Very pleased with this last week's bout of reviews. It makes me smile when people take notice and active interest in the OC characters I use to flush out both the Republic and Empire, So many thanks for that! I hope that you all will enjoy the next one just as much. ~F
Chapter Forty One
The Tip of the Empire's Spear
Veneficus felt no qualms about leaving his soon-to-be Seer in the capable hands of droids that would keep him alive in his absence, if only barely, while he went to Mustafar to investigate the dark side cult that Zhar had discovered.
Typically, he would have just ordered the High Prophet to eliminate them, but in the current crisis of their lack of Force users to push against the Republic in this last bout toward the Core, every useful addition that could be acquired needed special attention.
The Apex fleet slid like a knife through Hyperspace, bound for the volcanic planet as Veneficus meditated on the various components of the war.
Strangely, it seemed that something had occurred not according to plan, in relation to Bellatrix's attack on New Terra… not only could he still sense the planet and the familiar people through the Force, but the witch's fleet had yet to report in to him of success… or failure…
Knowing Bellatrix, they might very well have been locked in combat still, but even still there were no tremors in the Force to indicate such a battle…
It was something he would have to look into once they returned to Dromund Kaas, but as the majority of the Empire was unaware of his absence, he would stay under radio silence until his business here was completed.
The royal shuttle was already prepared, and launched immediately when they exited hyperspace over the black and red planet. The signals were all coming from one of the remote lava processing plants that his forces had claimed in the process of searching the world for the treasures he had foreseen would be extremely useful to his Empire once the Republic was crushed underfoot.
For the Jedi to become aware of this item would have been extremely annoying for him, albeit not devastating, but it was a valuable piece of Force technology, and therefore something that ought to be used by the victor of their war, which naturally would be Veneficus himself.
Zhar and his newest apprentice were waiting for him as his shuttle landed, the handful of Arcanamach that he had brought with him fanning out in a respectful and defensible formation as the Eternal Emperor set foot on the ashy and volcanic world.
"Your Majesty," Zhar said with a small bow, while his apprentice made a far deeper and more subservient gesture, nearly prostrating herself on the ground before him.
Veneficus ignored her, knowing that the air on this world was dangerous in large quantities, and therefore walking straight for the interior of the complex. Granted, his organs could be easily repaired by the Elixir of Life, but that was something that only he alone needed to know about.
The soldiers and engineers that were manning the base gaped openly at his appearance in their midst. Many of them also dropped to prostrate themselves before him, much like the apprentice of Zhar. Mentally rolling his eyes, but knowing that he more than deserved their adoration, he waved them all to rise.
"Y-Your Majesty," the lead engineer said, timidly approaching Veneficus by a few steps and almost dropping into another bow, "it is such an honor for you to grace our facility with your presence."
"Yes," Veneficus agreed, letting his attention slide from the man almost instantly. He had little use for these when there was business he had to attend to. "Nothing has changed at the Enclave I presume?" he asked, turning back to Zhar, who had followed him into the facility.
"No, your Highness," he replied, "All is as we left it before summoning you, although I believe the bodies of those we slew were taken by their fellows deeper into the enclave."
"No, matter," Veneficus said, "we will go there now, and deal with this unknown group of Dark Side wielders."
"As you command," Zhar replied, gesturing for the Emperor to follow as the dark adept led the way to a small hangar, with several closed speeders that they could use to traverse the hazardous surface of the planet.
Zhar had his apprentice take the driver's seat, while he filled Veneficus in on the full details of what they had seen, which was surprisingly little, but Veneficus withheld a reply, wanting to see and sense this anomaly for himself. For an entire group of Force users to have escaped his noticed was meaningful, and he would reach the bottom of this mystery.
Soon enough the complex of the ancient Jedi building loomed over them, and once they had navigated around the last lava flow, the Eternal Emperor could see those that had been mentally controlled milling about in almost a daze, several even started to show signs of severe malnourishment as they took no thought to their body's own degeneration. It was a level of mind control that Veneficus had not encountered before, and he was eager to find the source.
They exited, and personally, Veneficus was impressed that the iridonian apprentice of Zhar did not fall to the mental attacks that reduced these others to mindless puppets. The girl must have had more in her than her appearance suggested.
The mindless started toward the intruders, but Veneficus simply raised the level of his own Dark Side aura to an extreme intensity, which caused even those who were dark adepts to shy away from them, the fear that Veneficus churned out in waves piercing even their addled minds.
Ascending the steps of the enclave, the Emperor was almost disappointed that they were not met with any resistance, but likely any within could sense him already, and were appropriately cowed into submission.
However, the sensation didn't last long, as once they passed into the depths of the structure all concepts of fear from their unknown foes disappeared instantly. Within the first room, which seemed to have once been a reception hall of some sort for the enclave, several saber wielding adversaries dropped from higher terraces.
"You do not belong here!" one cried, and they attempted to attack all at once. But Veneficus was not the Dark Lord of the Sith for nothing. A simple wave of his hand and a tremendous blast of the Force fanned out from him in an arc, throwing the attackers back and slamming a few into walls and pillars, knocking them to the ground.
"You clearly have no idea with who you are trifling," Veneficus said austerely, standing casually as he waited for them to rise again, "I am no mere underling that you can destroy effortlessly. I am Darth Veneficus, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Emperor Eternal of the Neo-Sith Empire."
The pronouncement was met with a renewed fear and great confusion, Veneficus sensed. Several of the beings fled, and Veneficus knew that they went to seek reinforcements, and a few seeking for their leader, but the majority stayed and raised their weapons yet again.
"I do not know of your Empire, Sith…" the leader of the remaining mob said spitefully, "but you clearly are of the ranks of Lord Kaan, and we will not tolerate his war mongering to destroy our ranks as it does the Brotherhood, we are…" but the man hesitated when Veneficus started to laugh, the high and cold notes echoing in the gloom of the ruined Enclave.
"So this is the answer to all the riddles," Veneficus stated, even as his momentary mirth dissipated, "you are yet another faction that saw the flaws of the Brotherhood, and departed from their company. Poor fools, clinging to some of their heretical doctrine, but there is promise here if you were willing to understand the truth."
Veneficus raised his hands up slightly, allowing both his sabers to slide down his sleeves and into his hands, "The Brotherhood of Darkness died out at least a century ago, destroyed by the founder of my Order, Darth Bane of the Sith. We followed a new command structure, a Rule of Two. No more shall the Sith squabble and fight each other for power, aside from a master and a single apprentice."
"Fragrant words, but in the end your order lacks the vision of ours, and still thirsts to use the Force merely for the pursuit of power," said a new voice from the rear of the hall, and Veneficus glanced in that direction to see probably the oldest of all the beings that were assembled here. A human, easily pushing toward his century mark, leaned heavily upon a cane while holding a saber in his free hand unlit, one leg seeming to have been gravely wounded earlier in his life.
"What need have we for power if we lack understanding of the nature of the Galaxy?" the old man challenged, "the Force is an ever changing, sentient power in the cosmos, and yet most wielders understand little to nothing about it."
"I understand things regarding the Force that you would never dream of existing," Veneficus countered with a small smile, "Naturally there are only two options once multiple Dark Side organizations encounter each other… and I have a fleet in orbit; so you will join us, or perish."
The old man laughed, a wheezing cough of a sound, and stamped his cane once upon the ground. "I may be old and wounded from when I fought with Kaan on this same matter, but that won't stop me from resisting you, boy, unless you give me hard evidence that I should respect you…" he sneered, and Veneficus longed to wipe the smirk from the grizzled face, but he desperately needed the influx of warriors for the Empire's war machine, so continuing to play nice for the time being was the ideal solution. However his limited patience was already growing thin with this twice-over hieratic.
"Think of it rationally," Veneficus said, "the Sith are meant to strive for greater mastery of the Force, be it understanding or power. We can at least both agree that Kaan's methods of making all the Sith equal was a faulty and foolish concept, completely against the very core beliefs of anyone who could claim to be a follower of the Dark Side."
"Already we disagree, you Highness, as Kaan's methods increased the numbers of Dark Side wielders more quickly than any period previously, however, there still is the fact of the needed inequality to push growth in individual members, which I can agree with." The old man said, seemingly perfectly content for them all to continue standing there, ready to leap at each other at any moment.
"But the problem I still have to return to is the question of motive. I presume that you, like those before you, like Kaan and even the Empires before that, continue to seek the domination of the Galaxy, elimination of the Jedi etc. etc…" the man said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I don't want to hear about that, what is the goal after you take over the Galaxy?" he added, forestalling any response. "I mean, what's the point after your finished crushing all opposition. If the Sith are to thrive on conflict, where does that leave you when there is no more? Do you go about inventing your own problems to fight against, or just wait for apprentice after apprentice to try and kill you?"
"There is plenty of time between now and that potential future for many things to develop. And there will always be resistances to destroy in order to maintain the control that I seek." Veneficus answered, refusing to believe the level of weak madness that this old Sith before him was spouting. His mind was already made up. Hopefully his underlings weren't as corrupted as this old one, but his ideology was dangerous to his empire, and must be eliminated before it had the opportunity to spread.
The old man's weapon ignited, and he smirked, "You forget that I am in touch with the Dark Side as well, Majesty, and I can sense your intentions just as well as you can mine."
Veneficus sighed then, before suddenly thrusting his arms out to knock all his potential opponents away with a blast of Force energy, before turning on the spot, releasing the tight coil of Wild Force that he had been building to teleport the short distance to where the old man stood. Duel ignition sounds accompanied the swinging on his sabers, intent on cutting the man in pieces, but the old Sith dodged at the last moment, throwing himself into a jump that carried him back toward the deeper portion of the Enclave.
"You connection is strong to the Dark Side," he admitted, "But Vulta Daanat is not one to be easily fooled by such petty tricks. Blackguard, destroy these interlopers!" he commanded, before retreating further into the structure.
Veneficus snarled, he had hoped to eliminate the man without killing too many of his followers, but that seemed to be beyond his ability at this time, as a trio of lightsaber wielding beings charged at him. Seizing all of them by the throat through the Force, Veneficus lightly tossed them aside, clearing the pathway behind them, where Vulta had retreated into his personal sanctuary.
It would become his tomb, Veneficus promised himself this, even as he chased after the old man. Too much was riding on him finishing his business here and returning to Dromund Kaas before the first skirmish of the final campaign, so he allowed his rage and unlimited power to flow through his body, even if he started to consciously feel the degrading effects of the Dark Side, and flew through the chambers and corridors, incapacitating as many of these blackguard as he could, only slaying them when he had little choice to, all in the effort to pursue the old man who was clearly their leader.
Finally, at what felt like the very foundation of the Enclave, Veneficus sensed his original prize. Their vault must be near, and if the Emperor guessed, that was likely where Vulta had retreated to as well. They must have had some trinket that the fool thought might give him an edge against the Dark Lord of the Sith. Veneficus looked forward to proving that the old man had nothing that could contend with the power of the Eternal Throne.
Striding purposefully, slamming more fools aside with the Force as they leapt between him and his prey, Veneficus eventually set foot on the threshold of the vault of the Blackguard.
It was significantly smaller of a room than he expected, with only a small pile of clear Force artifacts, and most of them tiny things, pendants and amulets that truly comprised little in the means of power, but the one object, now in Vulta's gnarled hand, spoke of something completely unheard of elsewhere in the Force, barring the Wild power that Veneficus had been born with. The Chu-Gon Dar cube, an ancient artifact that had powers similar to that of Transfiguration, yet more in depth and astral in effect than the wand-based magic of the Mage-born.
It explained how all those who had entered before now had lost their minds, or more accurately had had their minds permanently blanked, so that they followed singular commands without question; a basic and rather coarse use of the object, but effective nonetheless.
"I must commend you on finding out how this object works," Veneficus said, staring at his prize to be, "but in your hands it does very little, whereas when I take it back to my Empire, there will be many uses for such an object, all of which will aid us in the total destruction of the Republic and their Jedi guardians."
"Whatever your intents, it will sour in the end," Vulta chided, still thinking he was in a position to lecture the Eternal Emperor, "Besides, I could just change your personality completely with the Chu-Gon cube and then your entire Empire will fall to me…"
In a flash Veneficus had wand in hand and the cube was wrenched from Vulta's grasp with a silent charm. "I think not," the Emperor said as he caught the cube with a free hand, pocketing both wand and cube within his robes before redrawing a single lightsaber. "It's time to end this…"
The pair of Sith, one ancient, one modern, raised their weapons in unison. The salute to the fallen, whichever of the pair that it might end up being, not the Veneficus expected either of them to fight fairly.
To begin, they each charged at each other, and Veneficus noted that for all his seeming frailty, Vulta Daanat was still extremely fit and more than able to fight against a significantly younger opponent. Granted, his opponent was a master of the blade as well as many other skills, so Veneficus was not going to give the old man a moment pause as he accelerated his strikes, alternating for every available limb, trying to simply overwhelm his opponent as quickly as possible.
Vulta was determined however, and returned every strike Veneficus gave him with vengeance. The old man's tenacity to live was commendable, but Veneficus started to dig deeply into the wellsprings of the Dark Side, empowering himself with its dark power, even as he tapped into the Wild Force, teleporting out of the way of strikes altogether and reappearing just in time to deliver potentially devastating counterattacks.
If Vulta was shocked at such abilities and power, he did not show it, instead retaliating with blasts of telekinetic power and lightning, which Veneficus countered with his own acrobatics and lightning. The blue-white blasts flashed and exploded all around the deep chamber as the ricocheted off lightsabers and other arching blasts of lightning.
One powerful strike from Vulta was intercepted by Veneficus, and their weapons clung to each other, changing the fight into a battle of physical strength. "I admit I may have underestimated you at first, but we still seem no more than a stalemate…"
"We are nowhere near the same level…" Veneficus said simply, wrenching his saber over, exposing the old man as his second weapon ignited into Vulta's side, tearing a scream of fury and pain from the other sith. Surprisingly, Vulta maintained a grip on his own weapon, but the tension keeping it in place slackened massively from the sudden burst of pain, allowing Veneficus to gain the upper hand, and with a mere grunt of exertion, the crimson blade of the Eternal Emperor snapped quickly through the cultist's torso, cutting the old man in two.
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Zhar dodged another swing from one of the ancient Dark Side cult's minions, wondering for a moment where Emperor Veneficus had gone when he pursued their leader, when a pulse of Dark Side energy rushed through the entire complex.
Zhar could sense that it was the death of a moderately powerful Force wielder, and therefore determined that his Master was victorious in their alternate mission. The Dark Adepts before him and his apprentice faltered as they felt their leader perish, and soon the area communications crackled to life with static electricity. "This is Emperor Veneficus of the Neo-Sith Empire to all cultists of the Blackguards. Your leader, Vulta Daanat, is dead, and the artifacts that you so jealously guarded are now mine. Your options are now thus. Either surrender yourselves to my Empire, and have you chance against our mutual foe, the Jedi, or perish here and now as I bombard this site from orbit. Choose now…"
The communications cut instantly, and the disturbances in the Force grew as all the minions and servants of the now dead Darksider looked about in confusion. Zhar backed off to an empty corner, his apprentice instinctively moving between him and the other Force users as they started approaching, fearful looks in their eyes and begging for mercy on this lips. It was a sad display, so soon after their master's demise, that they would so easily abandon their training and fall prey to the powers that they wished to control. Zhar would personally enjoy seeing them all squirm through the harsh Korriban training that was set for every advanced student, and it was likely that they'd all qualify.
And after that, those who survived would be put to use in the war, as fodder for the blades of the Jedi, protecting those who were better skilled and more useful to the Emperor. Soon enough Veneficus himself appeared, but the cowards and weaklings dared not approach him, standing well away from the Emperor as he crossed to where Zhar and his apprentice were patiently waiting.
"I suspect that you had no more issues from these…" Veneficus said blandly, looking around and frowning at the weakness that was showed on every hand.
"Indeed, your Majesty," Zhar replied, "they all will be simple to break and rebuild into useful tools, one we ship them back to Korriban."
"See to it then, High Prophet Zhar." Veneficus declared while sweeping a hand across the assembled crowd of Darksiders that appeared from every corridor throughout the ancient enclave. "This influx will give us the last marshal of warriors that we need to make the terrible and bloody push into the Core worlds and Coruscant."
"As you wish, my Lord," Zhar replied with a small bow, signaling with his beacon for the ship Captains of his fleet to send down shuttles.
Nodding to himself, Veneficus turned to depart, not mentioning once the artifacts that he had secured, or whether the one he sought was among those they claimed. Zhar did not ask further, as he realized it was not to be his business what the item was, just to know that the Emperor no longer required it to be recovered.
Once the Emperor had departed, it seemed that energy and life returned to those of the dark side cult, and they began to cautiously move around, collecting personal items and meekly gathering at the entrance of the Enclave.
It was almost strange how complacent they were being with the entire situation, but Zhar wasn't about to look further into it, so long as he sensed no further hostilities from them. soon enough they were all exiting as the first of the many shuttles started to land on the wide hardened lava flows outside the enclave, and Zhar took a moment to notice that the mind warped sentinels that they had had wandering around were gone, either departed or fallen dead as their lifeless bodies ceased at last to function.
So, whatever artifact they had had, clearly Veneficus had taken. If it were possible, Zhar would have liked to know what it was, just in case there were more items like it out in the Galaxy, but that was not to be the case it seemed. Boarding the last shuttle with his apprentice, he nodded in the females general direction, "You did well," he said, offering a small amount of praise for her work, but nothing more.
Once they returned to the fleet, Zhar send orders ahead to return them all to Korriban, and took a leisurely stroll back to the observation deck, rather than the bridge, letting all that had happened sink into his mind, and pondering over what use the Emperor might have for an artifact that could drastically alter the mental state of a victim.
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Darth Diábolis looked down from the high vantage point that he held, on the uppermost observation deck of the command ship Dauntless, overlooking the massive armada, made up of at least a dozen smaller fleets and their escorts, even as they prepared for the final word from their Emperor to go forward to victory.
Their fleet awaiting orders at a point just behind the front lines, out of range of any Republic long range sensors, just in case to prevent them from learning of this death fleet too soon and taking precautions to defend against it, pitiful though they might end up being.
Unfortunately, it seemed that the last of their needed soldiers were slow to arrive, as over half of the required Dark Adepts needed to assist leading this massive a force were not present, and orders stood to wait for these required troops.
Diábolis was growing most frustrated, here at the head of the most powerful group of warriors in the Galaxy, and due to one small snag they were powerless to proceed. A nearby communications panel suddenly flared to life, showing the Grand Admiral that was in charge just under Diábolis, a human whose name wasn't of any consequence to the Sith apprentice.
"My Lord, we're receiving a communication from the Imperial Palace on Dromund Kaas." He said stiffly, and Diábolis smiled.
"It's about time, put his Majesty through." He said, kneeling once the Admiral switched over the communication to their long range devices, "What is thy bidding my master?" the apprentice asked formally, hoping that he was about to receive the orders he had been waiting for several weeks for.
"Darth Diábolis. The time has at last come to wipe the Republic from the face of the Galaxy," Darth Veneficus said imperiously, "the last of your warriors are being processed, and will arrive at you fleet while you are en route to the Core worlds. Proceed with the plan and blaze a trail straight to the very heart of the Republic, conquering or annihilating everything in your path."
"As you command, my Master," Diábolis intoned, slowly rising after the holographic image of the Emperor faded away.
Activating the communications from his end, Diábolis patched back through to the Grand Admiral. "Give the order for all ships to marshal at once, out destination is Coruscant, stopping at every system along the way," he ordered.
"As you wish, my Lord," the Admiral replied, "according to the readouts, it will make the first place of battle the planet of Taanab."
"Excellent, time to rectify the defeat that our Empire suffered on that pitiful world," Diábolis commented, feeling the ship around him lurch into motion, even as the massive number of smaller vessels swarmed around them like a swarm, ready to devour anything that crossed their path.
"Engaging Hyperspace jump in five… four… three…," the monotone automated system declared over the ship-wide communicators, "…two…one…engaging…"
With a small shudder, the ship accelerated drastically, and Diábolis could see all around him as the starts blurred into lines and the massive wormhole appeared before them, sucking in their fleet hungrily to speed them on their way to victory, and the death of the Republic.
Lord Veneficus desired the entire Hyperlane to feel his wrath as they make their approach to the Core, drawing out every enemy that they could, and that was exactly what Diábolis planned to do. Imperial fleets that they encountered on the front lines were to be ordered to join them, replenishing any losses they hypothetically attained engaging the new Magi-tech fleets, but in the end numbers won wars, and they had the single largest collection of ships know to the Galaxy for centuries.
Diábolis had read up on the previous wars and their grand climaxes, noting how they all seemed to take place on this or that backwater world, unknown to the people at large. But this was to be a war to remember, happening on their very doorstep, making absolutely sure that every being in the Galaxy took notice of it, whether they were Imperial, Republic or unaffiliated.
Diábolis allowed himself to sink deeply into the power of the Dark Side as he watched the purple-blue tunnel of warped space flow around them, readying himself for the carnage to come, and the pounding of battle to beat in his very soul.
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Gor-lak was rapidly becoming tired of dealing with this vile Jedi scum. He had had thus far to rely on his magical powers far more than he normally would have, and the strain of forcing it through the human shell he wore was starting to become noticeable. Unfortunately, that seemed to only embolden the Jedi into pressing his supposed advantage.
Vibrant blue and fiery green clashed again and again in showers of sparks and viridian embers, even as the estate burned just behind them. Gor-lak knew that the point the Jedi was fighting for was moot now, as the Count and all the Republic commanders here on the ground were long dead, but delaying them from their next objective was increasingly irritating.
The ork spirit wanted the Jedi to have a true fighting chance, but he was running short on both time and patience to let this fight run its course, especially since it seemed that the other combatant might actually beat him. Dodging another slash to his head, Gor-lak dug deeply into his magical reserves, conjuring a terrifying display of electrical prowess, sending the Jedi hurtling backward from the concussive force of the spell, and holding him in midair as the emerald power washed over him.
"I had not wanted it to end this way," he apologized, "as you truly were a formidable opponent, but I have run out of time for you, and you really must die now."
The Jedi's weapon was knocked from his hand as Gor-lak extinguished his own blade to add another series of bolts to his lightning attack, watching mutely as the stoic being was charred from within. To the Jedi's credit, he made little more than a grunt of pain as he slowly died, revealing just how strong his mental fortitude was to cope with pain. It would have been a long hard fight should the Lord of Cruelty had permitted it to continue.
Soon there was nothing left but a smoking black skeleton of the noble warrior, and the ork spirit retrieved the man's weapon as memento of the experience, and departed the increasingly dangerous area to find his soldiers station just outside the burning villa, aged Count Malvern kneeling between a pair of guards, already restrained and bitter.
"Your world is lost, and the Republic forces have been beaten…" Gor-lak said as he approached, gloating his victory over the man and holding the Jedi's lightsaber up for effect, "and yet you resist even within your own heart; admirable, if not extremely foolish."
"So long as someone resists your Empire, it will never truly win…" the Count said vehemently is return, and Gor-lak smiled, remembering fondly the hundreds of thousands of slaves that he had exercised dominion over that had preached the same thing. In the end it had not been their rebellion that had won the day, but outside intervention, so he at least was in disagreement with the futile thought.
"Perhaps," he said instead, but turned and activated the Jedi's weapon into the Count's chest, "but rarely does it come to full effect before crushed utterly."
The nobleman died there, wide eyed and gaping at the sheer audacity of Gor-lak, as though to ask how he dared to kill him right then and there, but the ork spirit was already turning toward the servant of Count Dooku. "Lead us back to your master. Our fight here is completed, and the planet is ours."
"As you command," the servant said with a short bow, gesturing for them to take to speeders and other vehicles to make the long trek through the war torn streets back to the estate of House Dooku.
The Count was waiting for them in his large reception hall when Gor-lak and his leading military officers arrived and entered the manor. "Exceptionally done my Lord," he congratulated them all, striding forward, smile splitting his face, "I look forward to working with your glorious Empire to rebuild our world as a devoted model of an Imperial benefactor."
Is was moderately surprising that the man seemed so eager to conform to every tenant and requirement of the Empire, as Gor-lak had suspected some demanded concession or exception to the rules, as would quite likely have happened with a world run by aristocracy, but either Dooku had some scheme planned, or he legitimately agreed with the stance of the Empire.
"Commander," Gor-lak said, turning to one of the officers with him, "contact Admiral Uardono and have him send down reserves for the proper Imperial garrison, as well as make ready the fleet to jump to our next location. We've spent far more time on this world than I wanted."
"Yes, my Lord," the man replied, turning and walking away as Gor-lak addressed the Count. "We thank you for your esteemed cooperation in disposing with the other noble houses, as well as their Republic benefactors. Hopefully under your leadership, the world of Serreno will know an adequate amount of prosperity and peace under their new leaders."
Clearly the Count wanted to stay and talk some more about the specifics, but Gor-lak would allow the Imperial diplomat to take care of that, as he had more important military matters to attend to. The officers filed out behind him, and soon they were shuttled back to the fleet in orbit, waiting for their armies to be lifted from planetside.
Striding onto the bridge to receive an update of the progress, Gor-lak was interested to see that Admiral Uardono was already waiting for him, small datapad in hand and offered to him as Gor-lak arrived. "New orders from the Emperor," Uardono said, nodding at the pad, "An armada is setting forth to punch a hole straight to the Galactic Core, and every free fleet is to join with the assault."
Smiling sickly behind his intimidating mask, Gor-lak accepted the datapad, quickly reading the details and verifying what his Admiral had told him. "This is the level of battle our warriors have been trained for, and I gladly accept them. We'll make preparation to depart for the front lines as soon as our soldiers are all back on board."
"Very good, my Lord," the admiral agreed.
Gor-lak waited there, watching the planet as shuttles continued for the next hour and a half to ferry troopers up from and down to the planet, exchanging their invasion Force with the peacekeeping garrison. It was best for fresh troops to be sent to hold their new assets rather than the tired veterans that needed time to recover before the next battle.
Once all was completed, the fleet slowly turned to face open space, and the coordinates of the armada were plotted based on where the datapad told them their latest position was to be.
"All is ready, my Lord," the Admiral said, giving Gor-lak the final command to take them out.
"Proceed," the ork spirit hissed, grinning as they entered Hyperspace for a campaign worthy of his title.
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Luna was not remotely at ease after their battle at New Terra. The Imperial fleets had been destroyed or scattered, and there was no sign of their commanders, which prompted the Chancellor to order their fleets reassignments back to the frontline worlds. It seemed like a distinct move to separate them from not only each other but from Hermione as well, not that Luna was unaware that the brilliant woman had eyes on each and every one of them through the charms placed on her ships.
Still, as her fleet orbited the world of Tanaab, at the very forefront before the contested planets that sought neither aid from the Republic nor collusion with the Empire, she couldn't help but worry that something major was brewing.
There was still also the pang of loss whenever she reached for her Padawan through the Force as well, but that had become more of a present ache rather than a gut wrenching agony, so she was able to persevere through it.
"General, long range sensors are showing a collection of Sith ships approaching the outlying neutral systems!" an ensign shouted from the direction of the Sensor controls.
Immediately the hologram of the immediate area faded away, the tactical projection table flaring a new one to life, showing the orbits of the nearby star systems and a handful of wedge shaped red units, indication of enemies, entering the furthest one from them.
"How many?" Luna asked, turning to Admiral Klergere, the female Iradonian that was the military head of their collection of New Terran ships.
"At least five fleets, with more appearing on sensors as we speak…" the woman said, growing pale, "it's an armada."
"With its sights set right on the core of the Galaxy no doubt," Luna said, pushing terror and anger aside for the cool calm of the Light Side of the Force. "Signal central command, tell them all we know and request reinforcements. There is little we can do for those worlds that have declared neutral, but we can use them to buy us time to assemble a defense here," she ordered the ensign that had originally spoken
"Yes General!" the young man replied, fidgeting in fear as he worked the controls for long range communications. "This is Vindication fleet to all Republic forces, there are many hostiles approaching our location on long range sensors, threatening the whole of the Republic, please respond!"
As the word was sent out, Luna began planning. Numbers wouldn't be on their side in this fight, so they had to be smart and keep casualties on their side to a minimum. Exploiting the asteroid belts and nebulas in the region would be mandatory to create as many traps as they could, in addition to using as many of the new equipment that they were given from New Terra as possible.
"Prep all our weapons, load shield-piercers into the torpedo tubes, and keep on signaling every fleet we can to come to our aid." She commanded.
"General that will leave us exposed to the Sith fleet, acting like a beacon for them to come straight to us." The Admiral said warningly.
"That's exactly what I want them to do," Luna replied, "the more time we can buy for our allies to arrive, the better. Send the blastboats, bombers and light torpedo corvettes out from the main of the fleet, to hide in nebulas and asteroid fields, so that we can flank the enemy as they approach. But make sure to make it appear that we are preparing to flee. If their leaders are any sort of Sith they will fall right for it, pouncing of perceived wounded prey without thinking."
"It's risky," Klergere said, watching their blue shaded ships scatter around the system, "but I can see where you're going with this, and I approve. Send out our ships according to General Lovegood's command!" she ordered.
"Yes Ma'am," the officer replied, even as several ground officers entered the bridge, "We wish to be of assistance as well commander," the leader said, pounding his chest in a salute, "let us ferry tanks and other airtight ordinance onto nearby asteroids to provide additional covering fire."
"Granted, Major," Luna said, nodding to the Admiral as they plotted out more strategic location for their warriors to take up positions. "The Sith may take Tanaab, but they will pay for every inch with hundreds, if not thousands, of lives."
"We ought to evacuate the citizens of the world while we're at it as well," the Iradonian added, to which Luna could not disagree, "Hopefully they get away before that madness arrives."