The Rebel Faction

Kothlis, Bothawui, Moonus Mandell and Kothlis II(second moon orbiting kothlis)


<center><i>"When people learn no tools of judgment and merely follow their hopes, the seeds of political manipulation are sown."</i>
<b>Stephen Jay Gould</b></center>

Sunlight streamed through the windows of Bost Trey'ek's office making dancing clouds of dust visible in his office as he stared steadily at the door. Irritably he checked his watch again, she was late. He'd told her to be here at 8:30 exactly and she hadn't arrived yet. He was going to have to make this meeting short. It wouldn't do for her to meet his next visitor, that could disrupt the entire plan. Suddenly the door hissed open and Bost found himself staring at Devlo Rayl'bek, the representative of the Obek clan in the Combined Clans.

She didn't say anything upon entering the office obviously waiting for Bost to speak first.

<i>"Good,"</i> he thought. <i>"She recognizes who is the junior here."</i>

Bost waved his hand towards one of the plush chairs adorning his office which Devlo graciously accepted.

"You are aware of course that the Asyr clan is not going to maintain the leadership of the Combined Clans for long."

Bost had to give Devlo credit. She appeared so surprised that Bost was almost inclined to believe her.

"Oh really?" she said, her fur rippling in what Bost would have called surprise on a Bothan less in control of themselves.

"Yes, the fortunes of the Clans have not been in admirable shape since shortly following the Battle of Endor. They was a revival for a while but once again our fortunes have taken a turn for the worse. The area of space surrounding us is full of conflict and with governments desperate for tax revenue to pay for their militaries so they're increasing their taxation on imports and exports."

Devlo didn't show any reaction to this statement by Bost. Nothing new had been stated and the information was all well-known to any member of the Combined Clans or the rest of the Bothan elite. Bost was confident that Devlo wouldn't be so foolish as to overplay her ignorance so much as that.

"I presume there is a reason that you requested this meeting."

"The galaxy is engaged in turmoil. We need to have a quick transition of power, any turmoil could lead us open to conquest by a foreign power."

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," suggested Devlo. "If we were annexed then we wouldn't need to worry about the high taxes."

Bost was surprised at Devlo's comment. It wasn't that he hadn't already thought along these lines, he was just surprised that Devlo had already decided upon that course of action but he had hoped that Devlo wouldn't have made the decision on her own.

<i>"She's smarter than I thought,"</i> Bost thought. <i>"But it's too late to pick a new subject."</i>

"I am shocked Devlo. You would actually suggest that it would be best for the Bothans if they were controlled by a foreign government? How would we be able to maintain our culture, our institutions, what would happen to The Way?"

"Not if we joined the Galactic Coalition, we could maintain our independence on a number of matters. But you did not request that I come here to discuss the financial state of the Bothans. There was a reason, I am sure. Perhaps you wish to see an Iek take the position of First Secretary."

Bost smiled at Devlo's comment, the conversation had proceeded more or less as he had predicted and know the real battle would be joined. Before had just been opening skirmishes and jousting for position, from here on out he would have to proceed with extreme caution and skill.

"An Iek will never become First Secretary while I am their representative. Jealousy and fear are powerful motivators and nobody would consider putting one of us on top of the Clans."

"Then who?" asked Devlo. "You and the rest of the clans obviously have an interest in putting the leader of a weak clan in the position of First Secretary. That way he could be manipulated as you wish, but there isn't any clan that would walk deliberately into the trap. Everybody know's that the Asyr clan will not be powerful for years after they lose the leadership because all of the failures of the Bothans will be blamed on them. Nobody wants to become the scapegoat."

Bost nodded as if he were considering Devlo's words. "The power vacum could be enormous, we'd be throwing an election and nobody would bother running. And we're not going to follow the lead of that fool Azguard and open the election up to outsiders. We need to find a being who is stupid enough to try to lead the clans. Unfortunately in this case, stupidity, while rampant in the rest of the universe isn't very present in the Bothans."

"Very well," Devlon said. "If you do not have any other ideas or suggestions than I have some other business to attend to. I will continue to give this manner some thought."

She rose and nodded her head in a show of respect to Bost. As the door slid shut behind her Bost swiveled in his chair to face the door that led to his personal apartments. The door slid open to reveal a robed and masked biped.

"Everything is going according to plan."

Devlo Rayl’bek stepped outside into the sunlight of Dev’starn, without even thinking her feet followed the familiar path towards the Obek clan building while her mind raced. It was obvious that Bost was up to something. She knew he was up to something and she also knew that he knew that she knew he was up to something. The question was, what was the ulterior motive? Obviously Bost wanted power. That was the goal to every one of the millions of conspiracies that were hatched every day on Bothawui. The question was, how was he going to go about achieving his goals? Others had been contacted she knew that for sure including the large Alya, Balya and Ilya clans which were the only clans that inhabited the world of Kothlis. Together with Bost’s influential Iek clan they could sway a great number of the 661 clans to vote on their side but it wouldn’t be enough. And all the other clans would immediately band together if they saw those four begin to form a hegemony and that would no doubt result in a weak First Secretary who would fail the second that the other clans no longer had a cause to unite against. For thousands of years the Bothans clan system had worked and succeeded, but with galaxization, parity began to emerge among the clans. In the past there had been conflicts to unite behind, the fight against the Empire for example, but even though the Clans were still not on friendly terms with the Empire, the threat did not seem very real at the moment.

Devlo barely acknowledged her secretary as she strode into her office and found herself facing a group of distinguished Bothans, all influential members of the Obek clan. While she was the head of the clan in title she knew that if these men and women turned against her she would fall quicker than a house of cards.

“Well?”

The question was inevitable. Devlo knew that the other Obek elite knew of her visit to Bost (it hadn’t been worth the effort to hide it), and she knew that they would all be curious to hear what had been said.

“We discussed the succession crisis. Nobody is foolish enough to attempt to gain power. Everybody has seen what happened to Amaer Kre’fey and the Ifey clan and nobody wants the same to occur to their clan and Asyr has done little to make the job of First Secretary any more desirable. He is also of the opinion that none of the weaker clans will be willing to take on the position. He stated something akin to supporting another alliance of aliens that would be led by a non-Bothan who could be manipulated, whether or not that is his actual belief I do not know.”

One of the elders Oleg snorted at this. “Another Alliance of the Aliens? The Iek Clan would never be that stupid. Kre’fey’s name is so tarnished that it’s almost a curse, there was no way they would revive that half-baked plan.”

Devlo nodded at this comment. “Those were my thoughts, however it is evident that we need to look beyond our borders. The economic crisis alone demands that.”

The eldest of the elders and the unofficial head of the clan Devarn nodded his head. “That is true. At last count of the 661 clans, around 200 favoured allying us with a large industrial conglomerate, perhaps Vinda Corporation if they ever decide to expand out of the Corporate Sector. Another 250 or so favour the Galactic Coalition, with the rest favouring either neutrality, undecided or another option.” Those numbers were of course all highly unofficial, obtained by the Obek’s clan spies. Spying and intrigue were practically the national pastime of the Bothans and the Obek spies were some of the best.

“What about the Trem Clan? Have they given up their support of the Empire yet?”

Devarn laughed at this. “Hardly, they’ve even started to gain a few converts to their side. I’ve heard reports that the Asyr clan was going to support scrapping our military and joining them.”

“Not surprised. The weak will always try something desperate.” Oleg muttered. “And after the way they handled themselves at Corinth, having the Imperials protect us might almost be an improvement.”

Devlo looked around the room and considered all the possibilities. Even hear among her own clan mates she wasn’t safe from intrigue and backstabbing. Everything was a calculated move and more often than not it was the Bothans who weren’t doing any moving that were the most dangerous. She would have to choose her words very carefully.

“I wonder,” she began. “Bost obviously has a plan that he’s not revealing to us. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been a meeting. The real questions are: who is his backers? And what does his plan entail? This isn’t something our spies are going to be able to find out.”

Devarn nodded sagely. “We know his ultimate goal is power for himself and the Iek clan. We also know that he has contacted the Kothlis Clans and is going to attempt to win their support for whatever his plan is.”

“Could they be bluffs?” Devlo asked.

“Unlikely. Bost went seriously out of his way to find out this information. I know for a fact that we’re the only clan that knows of this meeting.”

“So he wants the Kothlis Clans, which have traditionally been the Clans with the best relations with the New Republic, he could be planning some kind of petition to the Galactic Coalition.”

“Maybe, but I think there’s another reason for the Kothlis Clans. Remember, with the Ifey clan becoming a shadow of itself those three clans control the vast majority of our military.”

Devlo nodded her head at this. “So far he’s contacted the clans that control the military and us. Which means that he probably contacted the Yg clan as well.”

“The Yg clan?” Oleg asked. “It sounds like Bost is planning a coup. To plan a coup you need money, the military and public support. The Yg clan has none of the above. They have no money, no power and they won’t be very helpful in swaying public support.”

“True.” Devlo said, wondering if Oleg was feigning ignorance or if he really didn’t understand why the Yg clan was important. “But Bost doesn’t need money, they control the Independent Treasury. However, along with us the Yg clan control the majority of the Spynet. He is assembling all the tools necessary for him to succeed.”

One of the elders, who had stayed quiet up until now, Golm, spoke up. “So we think Bost is planning a coup. But what do we do? We could certainly support such an effort, maybe raise an Obek to the position of First Secretary, the first in our history.”

Devlo frowned as she considered her next words. This would be the moment in which her fate and possibly the fate of the Bothan Clans were decided.

“It is my opinion,” she began. “That we should support Bost in his coup. However, we will prepare ourselves and undertake a countercoup at the moment when Bost is most vulnerable. We must expose the weakness of our current state of affairs and Bost will succeed in that admirably. Then with the support of the Kothlis Clans and the Yg Clan we can take over the role of First Secretary. Of course you, my trusted advisors may have differing opinions than me.” Devlo smiled as she finished the last bit without any hint of irony. <i>“Trusted advisors? They think they’re my boss.”</i>

“Are you crazy?!” demanded Oleg. “That would no doubt lead to the ruin of our clan? Do you wish to join Amaer Kre’fey in disgrace? Do you wish to see us impoverished and powerless like the Ifey clan?”

Devlo smiled, “Obviously we will need to be successful. Amaer Kre’fey, despite the way he is currently viewed, was quite successful in bringing the Bothans to prosperity once again. His ideas were sound and can be applied to our current situation. His only fault was not being devious enough. He openly proclaimed an Alliance of Aliens, which is not the way to succeed. Never reveal any information that you don’t have to.”

As Devlo finished her lengthy tirade she looked up and stared into the impassive eyes of the other elders. Now was not the time to show any signs of not being confident in her plan. Without any words passing between them Devlo knew that the other elders were conferring about her plan. She fixed her eyes on Devarn whose gaze was flitting over the other elders. Finally his eyes locked in on hers and he nodded his head.

“That is an admirable plan and we fully support your decision,” he said in an officious tone.

Devlo exhaled slowly as the other words of support began to flow from all other corners of the room. The first part of her plan had succeeded, now she must lay the groundwork.

“We should contact the same clans that Bost contacted, he made some wise choices in contacting them.” Said Devarn.


“Excellent idea,” Devlo said. “We’ll need money too, the Kothlis Clans are rich but I would prefer if we didn’t have to rely too heavily on them. I think I have the perfect idea as to who we should contact as well.”

“Who?” Oleg asked, curious to know what pathways Devlo’s mind had followed.

Devlo hesitated for the final time. She didn’t want the general populace to understand the direction she was leaning. Spies could be everywhere but Devlo was confident in this conversation remaining secret. The other elders relied to heavily on the Obek Clan to be influential and discrediting her would do them just as much harm. As for Bost, he would never reveal anything about her conversation with him, the Iek Clan would come under such intense scrutiny from the other clans that there was no way he could set any plan in motion without the other 660 clans immediately moving to block him.

“The Coalition.”

<center>*****</center>

Bost strode through the streets of Dev’starn quickly and with an air of business. He was disguised in a way that he appeared to be one of the couriers who delivered the sensitive mail to every Clan Building multiple times a day. If anybody had been watching him, and he was sure that somebody was, they would have seen the regular courier enter and then leave a short time later to continue on his regular rounds. Devlo Rayl’bek’s visit to him was easily explained as a meeting concerning the Financial Affairs Council, on which both Clan Iek and Clan Obek held a seat. A meeting with the Kothlis Clans the same day however would have elicited suspicion; a third meeting with the Yg Clan would have had the same effect as renting the biggest holo-board in Dev’starn to broadcast his intentions.

Some time later the courier exited the building. He had remained in the building no longer than usual. Bost was elated the Kothlis Clans had also behaved as predicted; the pieces were beginning to fall into place. Little did he know that nearly immediately after he left the building an Obek agent broke his cover to expose himself and deliver a message from his masters.

A similar chain of events occurred at the Yg Clan building and Bost finished the courier’s rounds before returning to the Iek Clan building as if he was starting all over. He was feeling elated but little did he know that all the work that he was carefully setting in place was being carefully undone. Bost settled into his desk and nodded his thanks to the real courier, an Iek agent, who was departing the building. All across Dev’starn things continued as normal except in 6 buildings where two separate plots had commenced in the span of minutes.

The Recent Past

It certainly wasn't the Midas.

With the Union's mobile headquarters be held in reserve as a possible contingency for the Tammar operation, the usual location for important Union meetings was unavailable. Instead spending a day making random and sporadic jumps into hyperspace to rendezvous with an awe-inspiring eight kilometer wedge out in the Rim, Hilter had spent a day making the insanely complex series of jumps it required to arrive at the Union's primary production center. Surrounded by gravatic hyperspace anomalies and slowly being devoured by a black hole, the Forge was not an easy destination to reach even when you knew where it was.

Totally devoid of life, the Forge is a solid ball of rock and metal with almost not atmosphere and no signs of an ability to support life. There is speculation by Union scientists that the Forge is actually the core of a long destroyed planet (which explains the insanely high metallic content beneath its surface); evidence supported by the several large planetoids that maintain highly irregular orbits around the planet. When an errant Tagge Company mining explorer first discovered it, the world had been completely barren. Now the space around the Forge was clogged with the massive superstructures of military grade shipyards and dry-docks and the huge presence of four Tagge Co Redoubt class space stations.


Hilter Afdol had been called to the Union's secret enclave, by the Chairman himself, to evaluate a proposed Union operation of some size and significance. Hilter had spent most of his time running the affairs of Ukio (a somewhat time consuming but intellectually boring pursuit) while moonlighting as a terrorist, putting together the first elements of the GLF's next terror wave. Still, when asked personally by Sabrino to assist in furthering the Union's agenda he had jumped at the chance. Hilter had worked with non-GLF parts of the Union in his operation on Anaxes, and performed quite well. Despite his association with the GLF, Hilter's motivation (other than his friendship with Brutus Nogoth) for helping that organization had always been the challenge of matching wits with the security apparatuses of the galaxy- and winning.


He eyed the thick cut mercenaries as he stepped up to the doorway that led into one of the Forge's numerous meeting/conference rooms. With Tir Esias and Omega Thrax away, Sabrino chose to rely on the Union's black beretta'd mercenary troops to protect himself. The harsh faces of the mercs remained motionless as their eyes followed Hilter's progress, but they did not stop him from entering. He was a Director, and above such trivialities like weapons searches. Besides, Estro Sabrino was a veteran of the mighty Jutraalian Navy, and could handle himself pretty well.

As Hilter crossed the threshold he was greeted with a much smaller space than the usual confines of the Midas. In lieu of a conference table sat a desk and a small circular tabletop. A high-backed chair sat behind the desk, the back facing the door. Although private meetings with Sabrino were rare, it was purported that he always sat with his back to the door, and spun slowly to face his guest only after they had totally entered the room. Hilter's own experiences corroborated that as fact.


"Greetings, Director Afdol."

Sabrino spun. Though he did not turn with great speed Hilter was unable to catch a glimpse of what he had been staring, and the chair's high back continued to obscure it from view.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Chairman."

Sabrino's eyes looked past Hilter, then traversed the small room.

"It's certainly not the Midas."

Sabrino's voice remained calm and steady. Much like Hilter the man who had built the Union rarely betrayed his emotions through his speech.

"No... but given the circumstances, I think it will do. Certainly more secure than the holonet."

"Of course."

It seemed as if Sabrino had something more to say, but he held his tongue. After a moment of silence, he continued.

"I'm interested to hear you're evaluation of the matter at hand."

Hilter nodded. Whatever thoughts the Chairman had been about to reveal remained locked in the recesses of his mind. And so business began. Hilter took a small datapad from his coat pocket and walked over to the tabletop. He inserted it into a small holo-projector, which flashed a shimmering image into the still air.

The holo-projection was an enlarged map of the loosely defined borders of "Bothan Space."

"The time is ripe for a move. The political climate is as tense and confusing as ever. Bothan politics is always cloak and dagger, but there's some serious undertones right now. The rumor mill is going crazy. Our sources also indicate a massive shift toward internal focus by the Spynet. "

Hilter pressed a button on the holo-projection, temporarily replacing the map with the figure of a regal looking Bothan male.

"This is Realu Asyr, the current Councilor of the Combined Clans."

The holo proceeded to list generic statistics about Realu and his life.

"His ascension to power came rather stealthily... it was more the result of a bitter campaign waged by the two front-runners that destroyed both candidacies. He was never particularly popular, but the Corinth incident has sapped at his support like a mynock."

The holoprojection zoomed in on a planet to the Galactic East of Bothuwai and Kothlis, the Bothan's two most critical worlds.

"Corinth was not affiliated with the Combined Clans as recently as five years ago. The planet was a factionalized world comprising numerous offshoots of current Bothan and clans and several defunct, dishonored ones. Under the Kre' Fey government [thread=934]Corinth[/thread], which had been in the midst of a civil war, was brought back into mainstream Bothan society. The planet had been practically ripped to shreds... but Kre' Fey's commitment to expanding the Bothan military sent money pouring into the planet. In fact, the planet is one of the most critical industrial planets in Bothan Space outside of Kothlis.

Anyway, Asyr's government cut military funding again.. and sent a weakening Corinthian economy into a tailspin. Some of the old factions rose up and tried to break away... and they might have succeeded if they had a fully operational shipyard under there control. Anyway, Asyr's government caught flak from numerous parties: military supporters decrying the decay of the navy, isolationists who think they should have let Corinth secede, groups that suggested diplomatic solutions just about everyone."

The holo-projection zoomed back out.

"The economic situation is pressing the political one. The Bothan economy is not necessarily weak- most of the current problems stem from poor management- but the bottom line is everyone is getting worried. Because Bothans are notoriously tight with the financial records its impossible to gauge how much of this economic crisis is real, and how much is just manipulation."

Estro broke his silence.

"It is your opinion then that the Asyr government will not last?"

"Yes. Barring some major turnaround the natural political process will bring down the current government within the year; however that is discounting numerous extraneous factors."

"Such as?"

"Typical Bothan maneuverings. Disinformation, secret alliances, coups. However, the real variable is external involvement."

"I see."

"We're not the only ones who can sense this opportunity, and I think it is highly likely that we not be the only ones trying to take advantage of it. The hot rumor is entering an alliance with the Coalition."

Sabrino smiled.

"I find that highly unlikely. Its not the Bothan Way"

Hilter shrugged.

"They joined major galactic governments before... and there is some sentiment linking the Coalition to entities like the New Republic. Still..."

Hilter knew Bothans, as a species, hated being associated with failure or wrongdoing. The taint of Corellia, plus the uncertain fate of the current crusade against the BDE, viewed through the lens of the INS had heavily damaged the GC's reputation.

"The clans are posturing, feeling the waters. Saying they support this plan or that one to try and gauge the general support for that option. No one wants to be on the losing side. Things are so fickle that it’s nearly impossible to figure out who's leading what faction of clans."

Hilter though he saw the Chairman's mouth curl with disgust for a fraction of a second. Sabrino, it seemed, was still sore over the political maneuvering that had helped lead to the downfall of TJE.

"If that is the case, then perhaps our interests are better served elsewhere."

Hilter let his eyes bore into those of the Chairman.

"I have no intention of spending precious resources, not to mention my time and effort, to watch the Union back a losing side."


Sabrino peered back at Hilter, the complex machinery of his mind working and calculating. After a minute or so, he gave a slightly perceptible nod.

"Do whatever needs to be done."

"Thank you."







With that Hilter Afdol turned and left the small office. It was about time he called a certain Amaer Kre Fey....

Captain Wesley Vos stood at the podium of the large auditorium. A plethora of officers, some of higher rank than he, had gathered to hear their commander speak. Their commander, Wes thought with pleasure. This was a moment for which he had waited for years. All these Imperial officers, all subject to his orders. Even better, if this campaign was successful, a promotion was sure to follow. And to take down that annoying race of slicers...

But now to focus on the moment. The future would come in time, but only if the present was satisfactory. An interesting thought - something to philosophize about later.

Wes stepped forward, and the low noise of conversation was stilled. Wes stood for only a moment, savoring the power he now held, and then began to speak.

"Gentlemen," he began, thinking that many of the members of his audience were anything but gentlemen, "the time has come to put Operation Vengeance into effect. Many of you know of this as a possible scenario; we now have the ability to upgrade from a hypothetical to a reality.

"It will be somewhat different from the scenario you've been taught. Details, as well as your specific orders, are in the packets being handed out by the aides." He waited for the staff officers to start, then continued.

"This campaign is of vital importance to the New Order. First, as you well know, the Bothans have long been a thorn in the foot of the Empire. Not only their free alien presence in the galaxy, but their constant involvement in all factions that are anti-Imperial speaks volumes. A lesson must be taught.

"Second, the Bothans have a natural bent towards the Galactic Coalition, who are sworn enemies to everything the New Order stands for. If the Bothans are seduced by the lies of the Coalition, two consequences would result: first, Hutt Space would be cut off from the mainstays of Imperial territory. As Hutt space is our only buffer against the Black Dragon Empire, you can understand why it is important that we maintain the vital links necessary to supply that area with troops and munitions. The other reason is that if the Coalition gains the Bothan slicing expertise, it is possible that the very secrets of the Empire - our goals, our troop strengths, our military intelligence, the very things that keep our men alive in battle - could fall into enemy hands. That cannot be allowed.

"Finally, the Bothans have been a constant irritation. Few of you are old enough to remember the death of our glorious Emperor Palpatine. I do. I also remember that it was the Bothans who stole the information responsible for the destruction of the Death Star and the ending of our Emperor's life. It was the Bothans who were one of the three major alien races responsible for the establishment of the traitorous New Republic. It was a Bothan who served as the Republic's last chief of state, and it is the Bothans who must pay for their crimes.

"So then, officers, for the glory of the Empire and His Majesty Daemon Hyfe, man your ships. I'll see you at Metropolis Prime."


Captain Vos sat on the bridge of his new command vessel, the modified Articus-class carrier frigate recently christened the Vos in honor of him. He did enjoy the 360 degree view, and he was currently gazing on his recently-assembled fleet. Besides the four new ISF Modified Articus carrier-frigates, the Aurora-class Star Destroyer Tyrant, under the command of Captain Elios Typton, was the main ship around which the rest of the fleet organized. The two Eternal Advanced Star Destroyers Reign of Fire and Daemon Frenzy were surrounded by four Ferro-class cruisers, two Druid-class frigates, and two Curiassier cruisers. Around the larger ships swarmed six Stalwart Escort Frigates, four Fire-class Light Frigates, four Feram Vehicles, and assorted fighters on general patrol. Two Venerator-class troopships carried the exiled-Mandalorian-turned-Imperial, General Sennacherib, and his assault force of 35,000 stormtroopers and ground troops as well as General Stryker and his 5000-man armored unit. Three-quarters of the armored corps consisted of the general AT-ATs, AT-STs, Chariots, and speeder bikes; the other quarter was newly outfitted with the Skorpion GAV. The final ship of the formation, and Wes's pride and joy, was his own personal Assault Frigate, the Nightstalker. While it wasn't as powerful as some of the other ships, and while it was certainly much older, it was his. That counted for something.

Wes was interrupted from his review when a communications lieutenant approached. "Captain Vos," he began, "Commander Thrahrn requests permission to launch."

Wes glanced once again at the assembled fleet and nodded his permission to the lieutenant, who returned to his post. Moments later, the twelve Mk. II TIE Phantoms that had been waiting in the hangar bay launched and headed for the jump point. Three hours from the TIEs' jump, the rest of the fleet would follow, hoping that the Phantoms had done their job.


Commander Rhytrian Thrahrn, squadron leader of ISF Black Squadron, settled into his position at the head of the Phantom squadron. Twelve invisible fighters stretched out behind him in a wide formation intended to keep them from running into one another. They had practiced this in both the simulators and, recently, in live craft enough times to not have to worry about it too much.

He mentally reviewed his orders. Jump to Bothan Space, fly into Bothuwai under sublights, bombard the planetary shield generators before they bring it online, bombard other targets of opportunity, flee back to the incoming Imperial fleet or land and prep the way for the ground assault. Shouldn't be too hard. After all, this was the type of job the ISF was trained for.

And he had to admit, these new Phantoms were pieces of art. Invisible to sensors, nearly invisible to the naked eye, equipped with stealth comms...a CGT could probably still detect something, but not everybody had a CGT on hand. And normal tests hadn't been able to pinpoint the location of the fighters, and most certainly couldn't target them. The kriffing Bothans were in for quite a surprise.

Thrahrn keyed his comm. "Black Squadron, prepare to jump on my mark. Setting coordinates now." He entered the jump coordinates and waited while the nav computer worked through the calculations. A minute later, the jump was locked in. He began the countdown, "Five...four...three...two...one...mark." With that, Thrahrn engaged the hyperdrive and watched as the white pinpoints of light turned into blue and white streaks around his craft.


The TIEs dropped out of hyperspace far outside the planet's sensor range. They were taking no chances. On the dark side of the planet, their fighters would not only blend in with space but with the night sky as well. This meant they would have to rely on sensors to target the shield generator, but that wouldn't be too difficult. Even if some of the torpedoes missed, the sheer volume launched would destroy it.

The Phantoms cruised towards the planet on sublight engines only. The sensor negators in the Phantoms, as well as the dark TibannaX and the black fiberplast, kept the fighters hidden from both sensors and visual observers. Thrahrn made sure to take note of the Bothan fleet surrounding their home planet. The Bothans, relying on their antiquated planetary shield to keep invaders out, had somewhat neglected the maintanance of their fleet; even so, the Empire would be fairly matched.

The crown of the Bothan fleet consisted of two Mk. II Imperial Star Destroyers - outdated, but still packing quite a punch. Two Bulk Cruisers and four Nebulon-B frigates, plus the six Corellian Corvettes and four or five gunships, rounded out the fleet. Small by comparison to the fleet tasked with taking the system, but still a sizeable enough force for the Imperials to be concerned. Combined with the planetary shield, the Bothans would be able to hold out long enough to call for and receive aid from Kothlis or Moonis Mantel, but if the shields were down, Bothuwai would fall long before help could come.

Thrahrn smiled at the thought that it was he and his squadron that would be primarily responsible for the fall of the Bothans. Captain Vos would get credit for the plan, of course, but history would mark him, Rhytrian Thrahrn, as the man who made it happen. And if Wes was promoted, certainly he would be. And then there was the pay raise...

Flipping on the stealth comm, the commander sent the message, "Avoid the fleets, fire on these coordinates. Special warheads only." Short enough not to be detected by any of the surrounding ships, but concisely delivering exactly what his men needed. Thrahrn mentally patted himself on the back. He was good at this job.

As he neared the Bothan fleet, he began to weave in between the capital ships. The Phantom's systems and coloring did their job perfectly, completely masking his presence. Not a single response from any of the Bothan ships. None of their sensors registered his presence, and no observers saw the slight shadow passing between their vessels. Thrahrn almost laughed. He was sneaking into the Bothans' backyard completely undetected. As he passed, he did a recon flyby of one of the strange-looking gunships. As far as he could tell, it was made by something called Stellar Enterprises. Sounded like the same company that had made that disintegrator warhead his squadron was carrying.

Once he rounded the last corvette, he set the shield generator's coordinates into his computer and made for his target. The Bothans, consistantly cheap, saw no need to run the planetary shield at all times. It was only raised in case of threats, and as far as they knew, there were no nearby threats. With no inkling of the Imperial's invasion, the Bothans had no reason to have the shield up. Now the shield would not be raised again until the Empire controlled the planet.

The target was coming up. A quick stealth transmission confirmed that all fighters were in striking position. The timer was set. One minute until launch. Forty-five seconds. Thirty. Twenty. Ten. Five...four...three...two...one...and a volley of six disintegrator warheads sped towards the shield generator. The warheads had been covered in the same black matte fiberplast as the Phantoms and also burned TibannaX; the only disadvantage was that they still gave off heat signatures. But in the twelve seconds between launch and impact, the Bothans didn't have time to react. The explosion lit the night sky as the volley slammed into the generator. Most were direct hits from multiple angles. If any part of the above-ground portions of the generator survived, it would have to be a miracle, and the disintegrator warheads pushed into the ground, destroying much of the shield below ground as well. It was not without cost, however, as two of the Phantoms were caught in the blast and ripped to shreds. Another couldn't pull up in time and vanished in a massive explosion as titanium hull met the surface of Bothuwai. A fourth of the squadron and one shield generator gone. Not too bad. The other six Phantoms picked out defensive targets of opportunity and launched. Without waiting to confirm their hits, they turned and rejoined the original squadron.

As the blinding light from the explosions receded and the remaining Phantoms sped back towards space, Imperial capital ships dropped out of hyperspace and began disgorging fighters. The Bothan fleet, outnumbered, maneuvered into a defensive position and raised shields. The battle for Bothuwai had begun.

First contact.

The TIE Interceptors had been sent in first as the advance wave, testing the enemy's strength. They were met with X-wings, Y-wings, A-wings, and even a few E-wings, though the condition of the opposing fighters was terrible. A few well-placed shots by an Interceptor pilot could easily destroy an E-wing - not your usual fighter combat. Something was wrong here.

Erwin Koch, leading the TIE Defenders in the second wave, watched the approaching battle with a critical eye. While he knew that the Bothans were cheap, it didn't seem like them to leave their home planet to be defended with older and badly-maintained spacecraft. Time to figure out what exactly was going on.

"Black Squadron, assume tight formation. Form into shield trios and follow me in. We're cutting straight through and going after the frigates."

The four Bothan frigates were outdated Nebulon-Bs, not worth the price of the engines, let alone the frigate itself. It didn't take long for the shielded and experienced Defenders to cut through the ongoing dogfight and angle towards their first target.

Koch commed in again. "Black Squadron, fan out for multiple approach vectors. Arm torpedoes." Black One's trio remained on its approach as the other trios fanned out, creating a four-vector attack. The multiple approaches should ensure the destruction of the frigate even if some ships were lost.

Black Ten, though, failed to notice that his trio was quickly approaching one of the unidentified gunships. In a blaze of light, the entire trio disappeared.

Koch, seeing the massive explosion, yelled into his comm. "What the hell just happened?!"

Black Nine replied, "That gunship's got some major firepower, Leader. Request permission to alter attack vector and target that ship."

"Negative, Nine. Avoid the gunships, let the big boys handle them. Let's take out some of this smaller stuff."

The Defenders continued their run, succeeding in breaking the Frigate's vulnerable spine in one pass. The frigate split in half, jettisoning bodies and rubble as the two pieces began to drift into space. One piece took four enemy fighters with it when it exploded, and the other began a long orbit around Bothuwai.


On the Vos


Captain Wesley Vos watched as his fleet arranged itself in the pre-determined formation. The Fire-class Frigates formed the first wave, intended to intercept starfighter assaults and spring any surprises the Bothans may have had. Following them came the Tyrant, Daemon Frenzy, and Reign of Fire surrounded by the Cruisers and Frigates. The final wave was composed of the Vos-class carriers (the modified Articus-class) and the Assault Frigate Nightstalker.

As the starfighter battle began, Wes turned to a communications officer. "Ensign, transmit a message to Captain Zokolev. Tell him to remain on station but to also remain ready to jump in-system at a moment's notice." As the ensign did as commanded, Wes thought about bringing Vaseli's fleet in immediately, but he immediately dismissed the idea. Not only did he want to have a surprise waiting should the Coalition decide to interfere, but he also did not want Vaseli getting credit for this victory.

Even as his mind wandered most of his attention remained focused on the battle at hand. The enemy starfighters were being beaten back in the no-man's-land between the fleets. It was time to engage.

Wes opened a comm link with the lead Fire, the Serpent's Tail. "Captain, you may commence the attack."

"Yes, Sir," came the reply. Wes watched as the Fires moved forward, turbolasers and laser cannons blasting at the enveloping cloud of snubfighters. Inevitably several friendly craft were obliterated in the Fires' advance, but a much greater number of enemy fighters met the energy of the Frigates' cannons.

As they reached the Bothan line, though, the Fires began to take damage. The unidentified gunships were moving through the line, using their heavy weapons to rain death on the lightly armored frigates. The Fires quickly melted back behind the main line, not willing to risk themselves against the heavy-hitting gunships.

"What are those things?" Wes asked to no one in particular. Then he ordered, "Someone get me a readout on those gunships!" In less than two minutes, a full schematic appeared.

A lieutenant reported. "Sir, they appear to be of a Stellar Enterprises design. The Steadfast-class, I believe."

Wes's face went dark. "So Stellar's selling to the Bothans. Well, I guess it's time to show exactly how much his little toys are worth. Captain Typton," he said to the holo display of the commander of the Aurora-class Star Destroyer Tyrant. "Move your ship forward. All ships, accompany him. Face this threat head-on."

Wes then opened a link directly with the commander of the Eternal-class Star Destroyer Daemon Frenzy. "Captain Yost, I want you to plot a microjump that will place you above and behind the enemy fleet. Take out the Star Destroyer's shields and engines, and try to do something about those gunships."

"Affirmative," came the reply.

The two fleets collided, turbolaser fire now ruling the small area of space. The Daemon Frenzy hung back out of the fight, waiting for the right moment. The Bothan's ISD moved forward, attempting to force a wedge between the Tyrant and the Curiassier-class cruiser Nebulous. The Bothans were taking a lot of damage, though; one of their frigates had been split in two, and two of their gunships had already succumbed to fire from the Tyrant. Then the Daemon Frenzy disappeared into hyperspace, reappearing moments later directly behind and above the Bothan Destroyer. While the gigantic ship turned to orient itself to its target, the Imperial gunners prepared to fire.