Fear. Fear kept the systems in line. Fear of force, rather then force itself. Such was the Tarkin Doctrine. If only Tarkin knew, he thought with a smile as his military step echoed through the hallway of the western part of the underground bunker, painfully aware that many automated laser turrets already designed him as target, and were ready to open fire as soon as clearance was given. He neared the door and pressed his palm into the lock, allowing it to be scanned. Such was the official scan, though few people noticed how the security system scanned one's heart beating rate, pulse, blood and cell structure. Mistakes couldnt be tolerated at this step of their project. He entered the door, into a room housing three bustling scientists and two cylinders over three, nearly four meters in lenght.
"Commodore Lucin." the scientist's snapped to salute.
"At ease. Any progress?"
"Yes sir, we should be ready for awakening soon." the head scientist, Glavaskhi, nodded torward the cloning cylinders. Minutes passed in eternity, as the moment drew closer and closer. Finally the head scientist handled the commands, eyeing the read-outs on the monitor.
"Body temperature is dropping, now or never sir."
"Awaken him." Lucin gave the command. The first cylinder opened, letting steam pour outside, as a hand grasped the edge of the cloning chamber, the hand's skin crackled as the muscles contracted, and the knuckles began to form into hooks. A tall humanoid figure began to rise from the first tank, muscle upon muscle rose to form a lean, atlethic figure. The only From the second emerged another lean figure, pale blue skin contrasting the glowing red eyes, forming the face which was a nightmare to may Rebel officers. Grand Admiral Thrawn.
"Status optimal, the project has successfully been realized at one hundred percent." The scientist reported as he looked over the clones. The doors opened once again, and through them walked a blue-skinned figure clad in the dreaded spotless white uniform of an imperial Grand Admiral. All in the room snapped to attention.
"At ease gentlemen." Thrawn said as he came near the clones and inspected their creation.
"This is the prototype of your first Tierce project, now, it is perfected. Your clone has been implemented with a modernized version of the genetic code first implemented at the beginning of the Clone Wars, he and all his clones will be naturally subordinate and loyal, but will retain your tactical traits, though somewhat less potent, to prevent accidents. The second one is our prototype of Force-potent altered versions of Lomeir." the scientist explained.
"Very good gentlemen. How potent is the altered version of Lomeir's in strategical aspects?"
"Above average sir. Though we estimate they might be typically heavy-handed likewise to the late Lord Vader, should they become Dark Jedi."
"Interesting. Though heavy-handed, Vader always was a brilliant commander, as I have seen from his early battles as an apprentice in the old Jedi Order." Thrawn mused.
"What about melee and ranged combat?"
"Theoretically speaking they should be almost as potent as any dark jedi, but only in theory as we havent had the opportunity to test this sample's preformance in a series of examinations."
"Alright, see to it that it is done by the end of the month. If they pass the test, clone the first six samples of each model." Thrawn said, leaving out the part which said what they should do in case the clone's failed. It was pretty evident, and the scientists were smart enough to figure the hint.
* * *
The quartet of coralskippers vectored in on his snubfighter as he turned the stick hard, bringing his guns to bear on the coralskippers all guns spitting deadly fire. No pilot was crazy enough to face-off four skips alone, but he didnt particuliary care for his life. His brothers threw it away more then often enough. Maybe he was perverse in considering clones to be his brothers, but nevertheless he cared for them as if they were his own flesh and blood. The leading skip detonated as its last shot of plasma, promising destruction, grazed his snubfighter's shields. The V-38's were truly remarkable, with three wings set at a hundred and twenty degree angle, and with four laser cannons plus an ion cannon on the upper wing. The clutch, as it was styled, was in his mind one of the best starfighters in the galaxy. Agile, durable, and able to put up quite a fight. A duo of his wingmen screamed past him, racing after the skips he just passed. He didnt need to check the sensors to know that the skips trailing him were gone. The Vong frigate analog was trading pot shots with the 'Reaper', as the not-so-colossal warship unleashed hail upon hail of turbolaser barrage from its broadside, carefully timing the turbolaser shots so that if the frigate dodged one shot, it would run straight into the path of the other. Outdated Imperial procedure - apparently not so outdated after all, he thought as the frigate analog lost a chung of yorik coral on its stern.
He smiled inwardly as another coralskipper caved under his barrage of green spears of death, knowing that atleast that pilot wont be able to cause another of his brothers to die. Not that he questioned their dedication to the Empire. Raids on enemy supply lines like this were every-day job now a day, resourses being strained to continue the pressure. Admiral Torroro's strike force was very likely fighting for life or death in the orbit of Agamar even now, while the bulk of the sector fleet - minor starships mostly, including the alpha strike force which Thrawn favored in his early campaigns since his return - was tasked with harassing the supply lines, delaying, dividing, halfing or halving possible reinforcements to Agamar's Yuuzhan Vong flotilla.
Things were going too easy these days, since the Fall of Coruscant. He remembered the moment when news spread that Coruscant has fallen, he remembered how angered his fellow pilots were at the thought that the Yuuzhan Vong succeeded in laying siege to the shining center of the galaxy, the long-lost Imperial Center. Now lost again by the incompetent New Republic and their squabbling forces. He began to see the point of the word "infidel" which the alien invaders used for the Rebels.
He squeezed his trigger again, lighting space yet again with a brief detonation.
* * *
"They are fighting like demons." Torroro observed.
"Then let your turbolasers exorcise these demons admiral." Thrawn's hologram nodded gravely.
"That, we shall do. No matter the cost." Torroro rose his chin, and as if on cue a beam of pure blue light burst from the upper layer of the 'Colossus', demolishing a destroyer analog, neatly cutting it in half.
"Good. See to it that it is done, failure is not an option. This world shall fall, wether the Vong like it or not." Thrawn nodded again impassively and cut the transmission.
"Admiral, the 'Khanroccan' reports heavy hull damage, and is requesting permission to retreat to the rondezvous point."
"Negative, order them to assume the point of the cone formation, while we shall assume their position on the starboard point of the cone." Torroro waved a finger in dismissal.
"Sir, three frigate analogs and a skip carrier have exited hyperspace on the dark side of the planet."
"It seems the diversion was partly successful. Starfighter count?" Torroro thoughtfully murmored his question.
"We are down to barely a wing of TIE starfighters, opposing starfighters outnumber ours in a 2:1 ratio." The grim report arrived. It wasnt so bad, seeing how when they entered this engagement they were outnumbered in a 6:1 ratio. Eighteen warships, thankfully mostly minor analogs, versus three fully functional Imperial III-class Star Destroyers, equipped with a wing of TIE interceptors.
"Alright, Overall operation casualty count?"
"Five to six hundred starfighters, and six starships."
"Any news of reinforcements?" Torroro asked again as he briefly looked at the tactical display. It was a shoot-out out there, and the number of red blips, signifying the Vong warships was slowly but shurely dropping. So was the number of blue blips.
"Nearly nothing sir, almost all groups are tied up in minor skirmishes along the supply lines."
"So who's coming?"
"Major Kowes's group. Three V-38 squadrons plus the Phantoms, and the 'Reaper'." the officer reported, as he finished it the sensor officer looked up and nodded to the admiral.
"Sir, major Kowes's has exited hyperspace along the retreat corridor, and demands instructions."
"Alright, instruct them to thin the enemy starfighter swarm, we can take care of the capital warships."
"SIR - heavy damage aboard the 'Khanroccan', a frigate slammed into their bridge!" another report came in, needless as Torroro watched in horror, he watched the frigate advance as in slow motion, detonate as it riled up into the command superstructure of the 'Khanroccan', resulting in a massive detonation whose blast radius shook even the 'Colossus'.
The pride of the Imperial Navy, the 'Khanroccan' was destroyed.
Torroro's hand came down on the comlink, hard, and opened a transmission on all channels:
"This is the admiral speaking! There will be no retreat - repeat, there will be no retreat. We'll make the bastards pay for the 'Khanroccan', or die trying! Long live the Empire!" He boomed and nodded to his officers not to hold back in their payload of destruction. Today was a good day to die, and a good day to kill some Vong.
"Commodore Lucin." the scientist's snapped to salute.
"At ease. Any progress?"
"Yes sir, we should be ready for awakening soon." the head scientist, Glavaskhi, nodded torward the cloning cylinders. Minutes passed in eternity, as the moment drew closer and closer. Finally the head scientist handled the commands, eyeing the read-outs on the monitor.
"Body temperature is dropping, now or never sir."
"Awaken him." Lucin gave the command. The first cylinder opened, letting steam pour outside, as a hand grasped the edge of the cloning chamber, the hand's skin crackled as the muscles contracted, and the knuckles began to form into hooks. A tall humanoid figure began to rise from the first tank, muscle upon muscle rose to form a lean, atlethic figure. The only From the second emerged another lean figure, pale blue skin contrasting the glowing red eyes, forming the face which was a nightmare to may Rebel officers. Grand Admiral Thrawn.
"Status optimal, the project has successfully been realized at one hundred percent." The scientist reported as he looked over the clones. The doors opened once again, and through them walked a blue-skinned figure clad in the dreaded spotless white uniform of an imperial Grand Admiral. All in the room snapped to attention.
"At ease gentlemen." Thrawn said as he came near the clones and inspected their creation.
"This is the prototype of your first Tierce project, now, it is perfected. Your clone has been implemented with a modernized version of the genetic code first implemented at the beginning of the Clone Wars, he and all his clones will be naturally subordinate and loyal, but will retain your tactical traits, though somewhat less potent, to prevent accidents. The second one is our prototype of Force-potent altered versions of Lomeir." the scientist explained.
"Very good gentlemen. How potent is the altered version of Lomeir's in strategical aspects?"
"Above average sir. Though we estimate they might be typically heavy-handed likewise to the late Lord Vader, should they become Dark Jedi."
"Interesting. Though heavy-handed, Vader always was a brilliant commander, as I have seen from his early battles as an apprentice in the old Jedi Order." Thrawn mused.
"What about melee and ranged combat?"
"Theoretically speaking they should be almost as potent as any dark jedi, but only in theory as we havent had the opportunity to test this sample's preformance in a series of examinations."
"Alright, see to it that it is done by the end of the month. If they pass the test, clone the first six samples of each model." Thrawn said, leaving out the part which said what they should do in case the clone's failed. It was pretty evident, and the scientists were smart enough to figure the hint.
* * *
The quartet of coralskippers vectored in on his snubfighter as he turned the stick hard, bringing his guns to bear on the coralskippers all guns spitting deadly fire. No pilot was crazy enough to face-off four skips alone, but he didnt particuliary care for his life. His brothers threw it away more then often enough. Maybe he was perverse in considering clones to be his brothers, but nevertheless he cared for them as if they were his own flesh and blood. The leading skip detonated as its last shot of plasma, promising destruction, grazed his snubfighter's shields. The V-38's were truly remarkable, with three wings set at a hundred and twenty degree angle, and with four laser cannons plus an ion cannon on the upper wing. The clutch, as it was styled, was in his mind one of the best starfighters in the galaxy. Agile, durable, and able to put up quite a fight. A duo of his wingmen screamed past him, racing after the skips he just passed. He didnt need to check the sensors to know that the skips trailing him were gone. The Vong frigate analog was trading pot shots with the 'Reaper', as the not-so-colossal warship unleashed hail upon hail of turbolaser barrage from its broadside, carefully timing the turbolaser shots so that if the frigate dodged one shot, it would run straight into the path of the other. Outdated Imperial procedure - apparently not so outdated after all, he thought as the frigate analog lost a chung of yorik coral on its stern.
He smiled inwardly as another coralskipper caved under his barrage of green spears of death, knowing that atleast that pilot wont be able to cause another of his brothers to die. Not that he questioned their dedication to the Empire. Raids on enemy supply lines like this were every-day job now a day, resourses being strained to continue the pressure. Admiral Torroro's strike force was very likely fighting for life or death in the orbit of Agamar even now, while the bulk of the sector fleet - minor starships mostly, including the alpha strike force which Thrawn favored in his early campaigns since his return - was tasked with harassing the supply lines, delaying, dividing, halfing or halving possible reinforcements to Agamar's Yuuzhan Vong flotilla.
Things were going too easy these days, since the Fall of Coruscant. He remembered the moment when news spread that Coruscant has fallen, he remembered how angered his fellow pilots were at the thought that the Yuuzhan Vong succeeded in laying siege to the shining center of the galaxy, the long-lost Imperial Center. Now lost again by the incompetent New Republic and their squabbling forces. He began to see the point of the word "infidel" which the alien invaders used for the Rebels.
He squeezed his trigger again, lighting space yet again with a brief detonation.
* * *
"They are fighting like demons." Torroro observed.
"Then let your turbolasers exorcise these demons admiral." Thrawn's hologram nodded gravely.
"That, we shall do. No matter the cost." Torroro rose his chin, and as if on cue a beam of pure blue light burst from the upper layer of the 'Colossus', demolishing a destroyer analog, neatly cutting it in half.
"Good. See to it that it is done, failure is not an option. This world shall fall, wether the Vong like it or not." Thrawn nodded again impassively and cut the transmission.
"Admiral, the 'Khanroccan' reports heavy hull damage, and is requesting permission to retreat to the rondezvous point."
"Negative, order them to assume the point of the cone formation, while we shall assume their position on the starboard point of the cone." Torroro waved a finger in dismissal.
"Sir, three frigate analogs and a skip carrier have exited hyperspace on the dark side of the planet."
"It seems the diversion was partly successful. Starfighter count?" Torroro thoughtfully murmored his question.
"We are down to barely a wing of TIE starfighters, opposing starfighters outnumber ours in a 2:1 ratio." The grim report arrived. It wasnt so bad, seeing how when they entered this engagement they were outnumbered in a 6:1 ratio. Eighteen warships, thankfully mostly minor analogs, versus three fully functional Imperial III-class Star Destroyers, equipped with a wing of TIE interceptors.
"Alright, Overall operation casualty count?"
"Five to six hundred starfighters, and six starships."
"Any news of reinforcements?" Torroro asked again as he briefly looked at the tactical display. It was a shoot-out out there, and the number of red blips, signifying the Vong warships was slowly but shurely dropping. So was the number of blue blips.
"Nearly nothing sir, almost all groups are tied up in minor skirmishes along the supply lines."
"So who's coming?"
"Major Kowes's group. Three V-38 squadrons plus the Phantoms, and the 'Reaper'." the officer reported, as he finished it the sensor officer looked up and nodded to the admiral.
"Sir, major Kowes's has exited hyperspace along the retreat corridor, and demands instructions."
"Alright, instruct them to thin the enemy starfighter swarm, we can take care of the capital warships."
"SIR - heavy damage aboard the 'Khanroccan', a frigate slammed into their bridge!" another report came in, needless as Torroro watched in horror, he watched the frigate advance as in slow motion, detonate as it riled up into the command superstructure of the 'Khanroccan', resulting in a massive detonation whose blast radius shook even the 'Colossus'.
The pride of the Imperial Navy, the 'Khanroccan' was destroyed.
Torroro's hand came down on the comlink, hard, and opened a transmission on all channels:
"This is the admiral speaking! There will be no retreat - repeat, there will be no retreat. We'll make the bastards pay for the 'Khanroccan', or die trying! Long live the Empire!" He boomed and nodded to his officers not to hold back in their payload of destruction. Today was a good day to die, and a good day to kill some Vong.
