Trall Maryn, CEO of Isidric Ore, Inc. watched over his operations with satisfaction. His rough hands rested on the railing of the walkway he stood upon as he gazed down below. Below his vantage point, drillers and harvesters went about their business, digging up the valuable ore secreted in the planet's crust. Despite the fact that the galaxy was embroiled in a bitter civil war, business was still good. Rather, the market had grown, as the need for ore had not been greater for decades. Droids, vehicles, starships, all were made from ore, and none was better than that of Isidric. Of course, thought Trall, the rest of the galaxy has yet to figure that out. Though Isidric Ore had grown quite prosperous under the reign of Maryn, it still wasn't exactly the leading ore processing company in the galaxy.

Which made what was about to happen all the more curious.

His comlink beeped, and he retrieved it from his pocket. Putting it to his mouth, his slow drawl of a voice asked "what is it?"

"Sir, a ship has entered our space." The reply came from a much younger voice.

"Oh? And it's not scheduled to arrive?" Trall asked, suddenly curious.

"No sir. We're hailing it now."

"Very good. If anything comes up, let me know." Trall ordered. He was about to thumb off the comlink when the young communications officer replied, in a chilled tone, "sir…it's…it's a warship!" The words caught Trall off-guard, and the comlink suddenly felt heavy in his palm. Whether it was the added weight of the message he had just received or if it was the gravity of the situation that contributed to the sudden heaviness, he did not know. A warship? Here? What could they possibly want? What could he have done that would bring a warship to his front door?

"Sir?" asked the other voice.

"I'll…I'll be right there." Trall promised, and he rushed off towards his control room.

-----

The Hellraiser hung in space, watching over the small planet, poised to strike. From his position at the viewport of the bridge, Commander Kaden Tosk regarded Ploov III with interest. Too large to be an asteroid, yet barely big enough to be a planet, it was the home of a small mining company. Why this target had been chosen for the test remained to be seen.

"Sir." A stocky young Bothan called out across the bridge. Tosk spun around in a military fashion, fixing his gaze on the junior officer who had shouted for his attention.

"Yes, Lieutenant Trisk'ill?" Tosk asked. The lieutenant's fur rippled in embarrassment, as his Commanding Officer stared down at him.

"Umm…the deployers report that they're in position…sir." He reported, hurriedly adding the word "sir" after realizing he had forgotten it.

"Very well, Lieutenant. Thank you." He watched his young subordinate resume his seat at the communications station. He had only been a member of the crew for a standard week, which accounted for his lack of experience in dealing with the captain.

Nodding, Tosk spun around again, and continued staring at the planet. Now crowded before him was a group of Missile Deployers, itching to unload their munitions upon the unsuspecting planet. Tosk reached into his left breast pocket, the one where his CIS badge was displayed prominently. The CIS, the Confederacy of Independent Starsystems, was the government he had sworn to fight for, in order to topple the oppressive regime that was the Galactic Republic.

He produced a comlink from his pocket. Thumbing it on, in a crisp voice he ordered the officer on the other line, "Lieutenant Kaara, begin the bombardment."

"I hope you enjoy the show, sir." The feminine voice wafted from the other side of the comm channel. Normally, he would discipline such unorthodox talk as response to an order. However, this time, he felt she was right. He probably would enjoy the show.

-----

The Deployers wasted no time in releasing their payload. Missiles streaked towards the planet, aimed at miner's dormitories, processing plants, the mines, anything. Each was packed with a deadly chemical agent. They battered the surface, and with each impact, the chemicals were released. With each impact, more and more died.

-----

"We've lost contact with Zeta Sector!"

"Gamma Sector isn't responding!"

"I've lost Delta Sector! It's…it's gone!"

Trall Maryn only nodded sadly as each report flew across the room, being shouted this way and that. Everyone in the room was in a panic, knowing that the end was near. Soon it would all be over. A pity, that it had to end like this. The good men and women who worked for him, the whole company, were dying, one by one. And he'd be with them, soon. It was only a matter of time. A quick glance out the viewport of his control room, and he saw that his time was up. A missile roared towards his base of operations. Again, he sadly nodded, fighting back tears. At least it would be quick.

-----

"Satisfied, sir?" asked Lieutenant Kaara. Tosk smiled mirthlessly.

"Not quite." He replied. "We still have some surplus missiles left. Why not see what our little 'secret weapon' can really do?"

"I was hoping you'd say that, sir." Kaara replied. Smiling contentedly, he eagerly awaited the next bombardment.