Admiral Horner turned and gave the man an evil look, and then turned back to the Cabalans. Looking them over, he gave a self-deprecating smile. "Well, I'm not a politician, so you're going to need to talk to the government, and give your history. I'll decide what time you are going to get to speak, so make yourself at home."
Somta Llevian prided himself at knowing the aliens of the galaxy, and how to avoid or deal with them. However, there was at least two completely new species on this station. The first was the inhabitants of the golden habitat module. Their height was greater then humans and were very similar, but there was a very obvious difference: they didn't have a face. Seriously, they had nothing on their heads other than glowing eyes. Another thing was that they seemed mute, as Somta hadn't heard anything close to speaking from the aliens while he was there. He also couldn't work out where the weapons the guards undoubtedly had were. As he was leaving the habitat, he noticed a distinct change in the atmosphere, with it being much warmer and humid. He wondered what he would find.
The House of Representatives was in session when the message from the Savior of Humanity came in. First impressions were rather wild, with some thinking it was a joke, and others taking it as a sign of war. However, by the time the Victory-class Star Destroyer arrived, with it's trio of escorts in tow, most of the extremists had cooled off, and most were expectant, eager to see what would happen. Captain Llevian was impressed by the reception party. Nearly two hundred of the oddly shaped, but heavily equipped, battlecruisers were in parade formation when they had docked, and wings of fighters were surrounding each subformation. Straightening his collar, Llevian walked across the room to check the obstinate thing in the mirror. Just as he got it to decency, one of the stormtroopers opened the primary door, and gave him the summons to the House.
Walking into the Hearing Room was quite awe-inspiring. Not just that the room itself could serve as a hangar to frigates, but it looked as if it was at maximum capacity. Hundreds of sections were occupied by dozens of people each. And in some cases... they weren't people. The aliens Somta had found on his explorations were present, in all their regal glory, as well as what looked like humans at range, but on closer inspection were covered in scales, instead of carapace. A column started rising before the Captain could get any further in his observations, and he redirected his attention to it. The person in the small area on top tapped on the microphone to make sure it was on, then started. "Welcome to our next session Councilors. We are here to rule on our position regarding the Cabalans and their government, as well as any actions resulting. Therefore, let the Captain of the vessel tell us the history of their government, as well as anything we need to know. Captain, if you would please tell your story." To Llevian, this was one of the longest walks of his life, with the longest definitely being after he had crashed his training Interceptor into the largest statue of the Emperor on the world. Arriving at the column, a smaller elevator took him to the top. The man offered him the mike, and Llevian accepted it, while turning to the assembled representatives.
"Greetings, Representatives of the United Species. While I don't know the details of some of the events I will speak of, I can tell you of the importance of said event. The rise of the Empire was a dark time, and a stain on our honor. An evil man had used the excuse of a war he had engineered to transform the Republic, which, while corrupt, tried to do it's best to do what was right, and turn it into the Galactic Empire, a ruthlessly xenophobic and human centric organization that used despicable methods to retain 'order.' Entire species were eradicated or enslaved. Out of the darkness of this early period, several ranking officers from the outer rim were able to form their own shadow government to try and restrain this wanton cruelty. By the time of the Battle of Yavin, this movement had gained a large following, primarily among those who were being abused or given orders without regards for morals or ethics. Previously, the Rebel Alliance had organized itself to overthrow the tyranny of the New Order. The primary founders of the Rebellion were Galen Marek, Princess Leia Organa, and Senators Mon Mothma, Bail Organa, and Garm Bel Iblis, who gathered what support they could, and waged a guerrilla war on the Empire. After destroying two moon sized battle stations, and the Emperor himself, they founded their New Republic. However, before the Sector Cabal could think about joining them, their leaders started squabbling, and forgetting what they had had others fight for. Now, while better than the New Order, their government is falling deeper into tyrannical actions. I plead for your support to liberate the sentients that have to suffer, and to protect my planets and people."
The crew of the Carrack class cruiser on sentry duty in this system was getting restless. Even the Captain knew that nothing couldhappen here, with the New Republic on the other side of Imperial space. Of course, that only served against Rebel operations, but there was no other reliably hostile factions in the galaxy. So when the Victory Star Destroyer dropped out of hyperspace only a few dozen kilometers off their bow, the bridge crew was jolted out of whatever they were doing (which included the navigator shaving at his console). Within seconds, the automated challenge had been sent, and a transmission received. The captain of the small frigate was astounded to recognize the Star Destroyer's captain. "Nice to be seeing you. Our escort should be arriving momentarily..." Dozens of capital ships started popping out of warp, in formation with the Victory-class destroyer. The hammerheaded cross-shaped vessels were each 900-meters long, and 150 wide. There were two other types of vessels present: a deep bellied ovoid, and a frigate sized brick-shaped thing with racks of what had to be absurdly sized missiles, and gatling type weapons. Another voice came over the comms, human, but not Cabal: "Take us to your leaders."
Lieutenant Harding loved the feeling he got as his team crushed another group of dissenters, otherwise known as political opponents. Lately, his jobs had started coming with more frequency as more varied groups had established a presence on Coruscant. Many of the newcomers expected to be welcomed by an open democracy, and be able to tell their sob stories and have something done about it. Unfortunately, the bureaucracy had been mired down in court cases and power plays, so there wasn't much of a semblance of order if you were an old hand. Unfortunately, the three main founders had either died, been killed, or disappeared, so there wasn't anyone keeping track of what anyone was doing. When Harding entered the blaster pocked building his group was using as they're current base of operations, one of his locally recruited message boys handed him a datachip, and ran off. Feeling curious, he slid the device into his datapad, and read the short message. Then stopped and started over again, as usually people wanted him to do assignments on-planet, not travel halfway across the galaxy. He knew this, though: nobody shelled out this kind of cash for a milk run.
One of the deep-penetrating scout ships had returned from the Unknown Regions, and had found a forgotten world. Adumar was a verdant world, and Wedge barely saw it. He was more concerned over the three messages in his mail, and how they applied to his mission. One told of the discovery of another Star Destroyer, that had arrived at the same time as they had. The second was a brief message telling of another batch of personnel into his command. While not explicitly stating what the men were, Wedge suspected that it was a mercenary band that a politician had rolled into his group, ostensibly for "security." The third was the entrance of another faction into the tug of war that was the political scene here. The Terrans, as the newcomers ad been labeled, had an air of mystery around them, as the only information about them was from a wrecked pirate fleet, showing fighters blasting their piratical opponents with streams of tracer fire, amid looping maneuvers. As Wedge finished, there was a knock on his door. Turning off the pad, he got up and opened the door. The NRI officer onboard was officially there to keep tabs on the officers, and give debriefings to personnel. Unofficially, the man had the task of enforcing orders and discipline. "General Antilles. It is time to descend to the planet." Wedge nodded, went and grabbed several bags from his room, and headed to the hangar. He made it eight steps before his wingman caught up to him. Tycho Celchu was a lean man, blond, graying in dignified fashion at the temples, with handsome features and an aristocrats bearings. After the attempted brainwashing by Isard on the Lusankya, the destruction of his family by the Death Star, and an exile by suspicious politicians, he had been hardened in spirit. Now, he was a fearsome opponent in battle, but acted rather blandly. He fell in formation with Wedge, but said nothing. Entering the cavernous hangar of the Imperial Star Destroyer Allegiance, Wedge was struck by the notable lack of activity. The only occupants were two men in uniform, and a women with... two heads. Wedge did a double take, but followed manners and etiquette and shook hands with the lead officer first.
"Hello, General. It's good to see you out of The Holes, if even for a few minutes." Wedge grinned and replied: "Just taking the rookies down a notch." On the two week long trip to Adumar, Wedge had very nearly claimed a simulator as his own, burning down hundreds of virtual enemies, and nearly every pilot on board. Gesturing to the man next to him, Wedge continued "This is my wingman Tycho, and my other companions should be here before long. And, um... She has two heads." The woman gave a grin, but stayed silent.
"This is Red Leader. Red Flight, are we good to go?"
"Red Two, Ready."
"Red Three, four lit and ready to burn."
"Red Four, nothings gone wrong yet."
Ryand Kazansky looked up towards the other fighter in his unit, a sleek, golden Protoss Scout, as he heard the Republic fighter pilots voices. "Striker, what do you make of them? Why are they using a color for their elements?" The Protoss pilot that was keeping pace above his cockpit took time in replying. His psychic 'voice' was a deep rumble in Ryand's mind. "My guess is that it was a symbolic gesture, from a period long ago. How are your pilots doing?" Ryand called up the members of his flight on his visor, seeing green lights from each. "Mobius, Eternity, and Hyde are all reporting in the green. Do we have permission to enter the atmosphere?" The voice of the adjutant, that was stationed on the battlecruiser they had just left, sounded in Kazansky's ears: "The captain gives permission, and the Chief is saying that you better bring your ships back intact, or he'll have your hide." That caused laughter from each of the four fighter element, and, one by one, they slipped into the atmosphere.
Craning his head, Ryand could get Mark One confirmation of six unknowns, and the red streaks the X-Wings were leaving in the sky as they reentered. Eternity's voice came onto his speakers, just as a small alert activated. "Sir, four of the twenty contacts have gone hostile, and have announced their intentions to knock us down." The hard, accent smeared voice was redirected to his fighter: "Fam Flat, tha flightknife approaching yore position... Buan ke Shia challenges Atarnity! Answer!" Ryand didn't need to hear any more. "All Vikings, prepare to do our duty. Split into two ship flights." A grin split his face, even as his golden visor lowered over his face. "Fortune favors the bold. Accelerate to attack speed!"