Detour

During the Battle of Fury

Rigel Bismarck sat in thought aboard his Imperial Star Destroyer Scythe. "A fascinating meeting," he murmured to himself. "I wonder if my little trick worked... I shall have to test it out on Lord Domino... although his power is far greater than Kethren's, I will be able to judge by his reaction the depth of possible intrusion."

He was referring, of course, to the way he kept his mind during the meeting. The surface was filled with thoughts of obedience as it should be. Beneath the icing of this layer cake, however, there was a flow of thoughts much like quicksilver. Bismarck had deliberately kept his thoughts in constant motion, to hopefully confuse those who would read his mind. Beneath that was his normal cold and calculating demeanor. And his motives he already knew, and therefore did not need to think about them consciously.

Bismarck pressed a button on his command chair and received an acknowledgement from the bridge. The usual warnings for pre-hyperspace entry were broadcasted, but Bismarck didn't notice them overly much. Instead, he picked up a datapad and began to draw up a profile on Kethren and his servants, Jadrek Lemyn in particular. If there is a weak link among them, it is Jadrek. He knows enough to keep himself alive, but lacks favor with the higher ups. And it will probably be through him that I can accomplish the most.

Suddenly, he chuckled. Well, Shuma-Ikon isn't far from here. I will be able to meet with the great Sith Lord himself soon. It was definitely a good idea to send a message to him immediately prior to entering hyperspace... he will know to expect us, and what's more, I will expect him to expect us. Which may not have been the case if I had not sent a message.

Smiling, Bismarck continued his exhaustive profiling efforts, pausing only momentarily to wonder what kind of "support' Kethren was requesting for his underlings. And I will have to confirm the capture of the girl from Lord Domino. She is also a mystery... perhaps de Devastator can shed some light into this area...

"Well, Jadrek, you do know more than you let on, do you not?"
Jadrek threw his jacket across one of the chairs in Kethren's private chambers aboard the Night. "I thought it went rather well." He gazed out of the window that covered one wall of the room. "It could have gone worse."
"Worse," Evan mocked, throwing himself across one of the other chairs. "Master Trynyty, I'd trust him about as far as I could throw him. Probably less."
"Pity you won't get that chance, Evan. He was lying."
Jadrek turned around. "Lying about what?"
"You would not understand, peon. Let us alone."
Jadrek frowned, rubbing down his hair. "No, I first contacted him, I deserve to know."
Kethren shrugged and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing the length of the room. "His mind. He was covering his true thoughts with a surface stream."
"Huh?"
"I told you you would not understand. He thinks I am not powerful enough to tell. I am, but the problem arises when I am not powerful enough to tell what he really is thinking beyond being able to sense impending harm to my own person."
Evan sat up straighter. "There's nothing to make you stronger in that respect?"
"No!" The Sith Lord kicked out at the chair with Jadrek's jacket sprawled across it. The chair sailed across the room and struck the window, causing both Jadrek and Evan to cringe involuntarily. "When the girl left, so did the power I could have had! If her power could have been harnessed...."
"But overall it was a good meeting, Kethren," Jadrek quavered, trying to stave off the anger of the Sith Lord. "We know what to expect. He could get us places, do things we need done. We know he's not trustworthy, there's got to be something..." he ran out of words as Kethren stormed out, probably getting ready to kill something. Jadrek was just thankful it wasn't going to be him.
Evan stretched across the chair again, looking toward the window at the disappearing fleet. "Something's going to happen with this, Jadrek."
"What?"
"Something big, and you and I are going to play a big part in this."
Jadrek regarded him suspiciously. "How do you know?"
Evan shrugged and sauntered over to the destroyed chair. "Call it self-preservationist intuition."

~Freedom Dream, you have clearance to depart for Derilyn. Your transponder codes have been added to the database of ships permitted into Imperial Interdicted Space. Happy trading.~

The voice on the other end of the transmission lacked the enthusiasm of that last remark, but Han had to admit that he was "happy" to be leaving the Torina space port.
"That's it then, Rhadlikk?" Han asked.

The Meris sat in his seat on the bridge of the freight hauler and nodded. "That's it General Solo. Now we can take off for Derilyn."

"What?" Nathan asked with mock-incredulity. "No spooky talk of the Extreme this time?"

Rhadlikk stood from his seat. "Human, I have had enough of your quips at my expense. No Meris needs...."

The Merisee warrior backed down completely when Arionis entered the cockpit growling. "Steady....." Nathan coached. "Arionis, back to the lounge. Everything is calm."
The master handled his pet with great skill as he spoke in soothing, reassuring tones to keep the animal at bay.
"Rhaddy, you do need to watch how you approach me. That Valdy would lay his life down for me if he felt it were necessary."

Rhadlikk appeared to have regained his composure. "Forgive me Mister Garrote, but Meris are not accustomed to having to put up with such torment as your insults about the Extreme. Though your Valdrekel is intimidating, if I felt my honor were truly at risk, he would not come between you and I."

"Gentlemen......boys," Hawk piped in, "This has been a long two and a half days. Tempers may flare and personalities may wear, but we really should be able to get along for a few more hours, don't you think?"

Han snorted. "Mr. Diplomacy is right. Keep your personal code of honor in check and lay off the petty jibes so that nobody starts getting hard feelings. We'll be at Berea soon enough."
With that, the Freedom Dream left the gravity well of Torina and entered the endless swirl of hyperspace.

The ships of the Graveyard Task Force came out of hyperspace at Shuma-Ikon with the Scythe at it's head. Admiral Bismarck stood on the bridge of his ship, rather than sitting in his meditation chamber like he normally would. He knew what kind of display to put on for Lord de Devastator. "All ships in Graveyard, form up on mark zero-zero-niner-five-eight. We'll show Lord Domino exactly how tight a discipline I maintain."

The twenty-one ships converged in front of the waiting fleet, and with minimal clunkiness came together in the Admiral's favorite battle formation. This formation was of the Admiral's own design; it was an impressive enough display so that it could also be considered a parade formation as well, but functioned if the need for battle came without warning.

Domino sat, thinking. And then was interrupted by another presence. "Thank you for staying quiet this time," the Sith Lord said without turning. "What news do you bring this time?"

"G-good news, m'Lord. A strike force of 21 ships has just exited hyperspace and-" here he was cut off" "Ahh... the Undertaker. How I have waited to meet you," Domino almost purred. "What's his status?"

The man checked his datapad. "He's just transmitted a report to us, sir. This very second, in fact." Domino smiled. "The Emperor may have been right when he said we'd work well together. I want to meet with him..."

The flunky checked his datapad again. "Actually, sir... he's just sent us a holomessage. Shall I patch it through?"

Domino was intrigued. "Very well. Let's see what this 'Admiral' has to say."

With a nod to the holotransmitter station, Bismarck began to greet Domino. His first action was to kneel on one knee, then he returned to a standing position and began speaking in a respectfully subservient, but no-nonsense tone.

"Greetings, Lord Domino de Devastator. I am Admiral Rigel Bismarck, also known as the Undertaker. I have arrived per your instructions and I await your commands. Any questions you have concerning me or my ships can be answered via communications or holotransmission, although I'm sure you'd prefer to meet with me in person so that you may read my mind and determine the truth of what I say." Bismarck smiled at this. "In fact, I have as many questions I would like to ask you in return for the ones you will most assuredly have answers to from me. While the odds of them all being answered are small, a bone to chew on would be nice. Also... I have recently met with someone who would assist me in my endeavors to serve you. His name is Kethren Trynyty, and he is apparently a Sith practitioner. I know what he claims his goals to be, however I suspect he has ulterior motives. He has requested certain things from me in return for his support. I will not deliver them without your approval. The reason, you see, is because I am here to serve you, Lord Domino. I would like to meet in person with you to discuss these matters, as such matters need not fill space with detectable communications. Once again, I await your orders, Lord de Devastator, and may I also wish you success in your endeavors. Long Live the Empire."

Bismarck saluted and the holotransmitter monitor turned off the broadcast switch. Turning, he left the room and strode to the bridge with an escort. "Hopefully, that will entice Lord Devastator to meet with me. I would like to meet with him face to face... it would be interesting at the least."

Captain Regis, who had the position beside him as he walked, nodded. "Indeed, sir. One can hope our good Lord Devastator does not crush us beneath his heel because he doesn't need us."

Bismarck smiled. "I will be a Grand Admiral, Regis. For that title, I will make myself needed."

Deep in the Outer Rim, Colonel Fahlwan sat with his top officers in the briefing room aboard the Fahlwan's Pride, "Gentlemen, examine carefully the details of our forthcoming mission. I expect this one to be the most difficult and dangerous mission we have ever undertook. Prepare your men, we have only one week to drill the particulars of this mission into our pilots, crewers, and infantry. Our employer expects to receive a number of starfighters so tell our pilots to incapacitate them whenever possible......and Major Seljik,"
"Sir."
"Determine how many of the Nebulon B's we can capture, and.. if it is feasible I want to capture that MC80, a Capitol ship of that caliber would be a great benefit to our forces. Captain Merrick, has our new Corvette been outfitted to this fleet's standard?"
"Yes Colonel the Casius now is equipped with ION cannons in addition to her normal complement of weapons, there has been a delay in retrofitting Casius with torpedo launchers, but we will have to deal with those modifications after this contract. Our Verpine techs assure me that the torps will be easily installed as soon as we get them."
"Good, Captain Kader, is the Virulence prepared for combat?"
"Yes Sir, battle damage has all been repaired and the Virulence has been retrofitted as well."
Colonel Fahlwan leaned back and nodded, "Very well gentlemen, you know your duties, we'll meet again for a pre-combat brief just before the mission goes live. Dismissed gentlemen." With that the officers stood and began to leave, some talking animatedly into comlinks, or each other, or lost in thought. Dez himself was contemplating the upcoming mission, ' Well, the odds are tight..., but these are Imperial, well former anyway, men I'm sure they can accomplish this task. Then we might even begin to think of a permanent base of operations.<

Domino listened to the message several times. 'Annoying, that he sent a message rather than carry on an actual conversation.' The Dark Lord considered that for several minutes. 'I will have to preach to him on the subject of good old fashioned "two-way communication" and its many uses within the Empire.'
Glowering, that he should have to deal with a subordinate as though he were sending away for gifts in a catalog, the overlord of the 2nd Imperial Fleet stepped to the comm station and thought about what he wanted to say. He turned to the officer on duty and directed him to open a two-way channel to the Scythe.

"Admiral, a communication from Deathwail. Lord de Devastator asks for a few moments of your time."

Stepping to the holo-transceiver dais, Bismarck could barely stifle the self-confident grin his lips so desperately wanted to form. 'I've managed to intrigue the Dark Lord. I may have even impressed him.'

The admiral knelt just as he had before as Domino's form appeared before him, then he stood. He formed his words in his mind quickly, and they were based entirely on the preferred conventions of pomp, ceremony, and pleasantry. "Lord de Devastator. I have looked forward to meeting with you."

~Admiral Bismarck, You have managed to intrigue me,~ the Dark Lord said with a playfully malicious grin, ~You may have even impressed me. I would like you and five guests to join me on Deathwail where I shall be your host for a meal and a meeting where we can become better acquainted than this holo comm will allow.~

Bismarck stood motionless for only a few moments, then he nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Yes, my Lord. We shall leave at once."

~I shall greet you myself in the hangar bay. We have much to discuss.~

"Yes my Lord." Bismarck added as Domino faded from view.
He stepped down from the dais and began to formulate in his head just who should accompany him to Deathwail.

"You wanted to see me, my Lord?"

Domino smiled as she entered the room. "Rayla, I could never see enough of you, my devoted flower."

The relationship between Domino and Rayla, his prize assassin, was entirely bewildering to all who witnessed their interaction. To Rayla and Domino, it was as natural as anything could ever be. Rayla blushed, "I have only just arrived, but I came to you immediately. Why have you brought me out this far, and without Marquis, no less? She is at a critical part in her training and I dislike leaving her to deal with the Trianni trainers alone. They very nearly killed me while teaching me their art. They may hurt that frail thing."

Domino chuckled. "Rayla, your charge will be fine. I have foreseen her doing my bidding without you guarding her every action. You forget, She has received training from my Sith Lords. When you were taught the Trianni fighting arts you had no Force training whatsoever." Domino smiled as he looked at his servant. "I asked for you to present yourself to me when you arrived because your presence pleases me, Rayla. To look upon your features is enough to restore me to my youth, before my coronation to the throne of Deominia; to the days when my father yet lived." They embraced for several seconds, then Domino held her at arms length. "Go now. prepare to greet some esteemed dinner guests which shall be arriving shortly."

They stared at each other in silence for a while. Marr had tried to move to a more comfortable position, but it was obvious that the Captain didn't want him moving an inch, except for his mouth.

He debated concocting some story, plausible yet questionable, but he had a feeling that if she suspected any falsehood, he was dead. Besides, he wasn't sure that he wasn't going to end up dead despite the story he told. Perhaps it was time someone knew the truth. It might be the only way he could get out of this and find out what it was all about.

The captain's patience seemed to be wearing thin. "Are you going to talk, or should I just call security and have you stripped and thrown naked into the brig?"

"Okay, I'll tell you, but you have to sit thought the whole story, and keep quiet until I'm done. And you can lower the blaster, I promise I won't try anything."

"Thanks, but I'll just hold on to it for a while."

Marr barely shrugged in a 'suit yourself' kind of gesture. "It all started about halfway through the Clone Wars. The original Dalon Marr, my grandfather, was a well decorated member of the Mandalorian army. He was one of their best warriors, and was moving rapidly through the ranks, in fact. That is, until he got high enough to start noticing some policies that made him question his loyalties. He'd been raised off of Mandalore, which accounted for his accent, and contributed to his lack of nationalistic fervor.

"To make a long story a little shorter, he deserted, and hid out on the planet he was raised on until the Wars ended. (Oh, don't even ask me to name or locate the planet for you. If I told you and it got out that I blabbed, anything your Moff can dream up would be a day in the park compared to how some of the inhabitants would kill me.) Once things quieted down a little, he went into bounty hunting, which seemed to be the only job he was qualified for under Palpatine's new regime. Due to the honor amongst thieves (and his own skills), he was able to avoid being killed by those hunting down the remaining Mandalorians, and the Mandalorians hunting down defectors. He settled down as he got older, married, and had a son.

"My father was raised on the same planet as my grandfather, and in order to carry on the family traditions, he was named Dalon Marr. The firstborn son in my family has been named Dalon for I don't know how long. Grandfather taught my father everything he could, and when he got old enough, Father inherited the armor, with just a little tailoring.

"Father also went into bounty hunting, but he fell in love with one of his bounties, and after he married her, my father was a wanted man. He relocated to a different planet under a different name, and retired the armor. He worked some odd manual labor jobs for a while, and did some piloting shipping ore, but never made many credits. So, ultimately, when I was about five, Father went back to what he knew best. Things were different, though. He went back to the armor and his own name, but he didn't just bounty hunt. He was an assassin. Now this was about the time when everyone thought that the Emperor was dead, and with all of the political turmoil, there was a lot of work for a good assassin, and Dad was one of the best.

"Grandfather was furious. He had always had a great deal of personal honor, and I think that he was astonished to see that it hadn't been instilled in his only child. There was a confrontation between the two of them. I don't think they knew I was watching, because I don't think things would have progressed as they did has they known I was there.

"Father's temper had gotten bad in the year that he was assassinating. I found out later that he had been beating my mother, and she had taken it so that he wouldn't hit me. In retrospect, I think that perhaps Dad did have some of Grandfather's honor, and the internal conflict drove him insane.

Marr paused for a moment to lick his dry lips, and let his spit wet his dry mouth. He didn't pause long, because now that it was all coming out, he didn't want to stop. Besides, there was something in the captain's eyes that made him want to trust her.

"At any rate, Father pulled a vibroshiv on Grandfather, and tried to kill him. Grandfather disarmed him, and the two grappled and beat on one another, until I picked up the shiv and plunged it through the back of my father's neck. He died almost instantly.

"Grandfather took my mother and I and took care of us. Grandmother had died not long before, so he was glad for the company. He raised me and trained me, but he was very cautious to make sure that my training included more than fighting and hunting techniques. It was during those years that I learned to emulate his accent.

"So, a few years ago, he felt that my training was complete. He was getting old, and had amassed a small fortune, so he let me design my own ship, and then paid to have it built to my specifications. He also gave me the armor, but made it clear to me that he wanted me to pick my own path. That if I didn't want to follow in his and my father's footsteps, it would be okay.

"Obviously, I did go into bounty hunting. Most of the rest is a matter of record, for those who know where to look."

"Could I have some water?"

DeLumar had lowered the pistol as he had told his story. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." She went to the bathroom, and when she came back with the water, Marr was sitting against the wall, his bonds lying loosely around his ankles and wrists, his elbows resting on his knees. "Wha- You could have jumped me?"

"Aye, lass, but Ay gave me word that Ay'd nae try anything," he slipped back into the accent and smiled. Karin retuned the smile and handed him the water.

Something about Marr made DeLumar trust him, so when he took the water away from his lips and reached into a pouch on his armor, she didn't react, but stayed relaxed. He pulled out some prosthetics, dipped a finger into the water, and rubbed it around the edges, then applied them to his face. The final touch was a pair of contact lenses that changed the color of his eyes, and a quick die job that added new highlights to his hair. When he was finished, Karin couldn't see the man she had been listening to for the past hour.

"Impressive, Dalon. But why go to the trouble?"

"Well, since you don't have the gun on me, that means that you probably aren't going to turn me over to that Moff. It also means that I'm going to be around here for a little while, and I doubt that you want me seen in the hallways of the ship wearing my armor." He stopped. "What is your first name, anyway, Captain DeLumar? I don't think you told me."

She flushed, getting angry at herself for such a girlish reaction. "Karin. It's Karin."

"Okay. Anyway, I also don't want anyone to see my face, and know what I look like."

"Sounds fair."

"Good. Now, you want to tell me why you've been hunting me?"

"Even better, I'll show you." She grabbed the files she had been studying, and handed them to Marr. While he read them she put some clothing on, left for a few minutes, and came back just as Dalon was finishing up. As he looked up, she tossed something at him.

He deftly caught the bundle. "What's this?"

"Imperial uniform. There's a lieutenant down the hall who is about the same size you are. He has dozens of them, so he won't miss one, and he's on duty, so he wasn't in his quarters."

"So you just waltzed in?"

"Captains prerogative."

"I see." As he got into the clothes, glad that they were, if anything, a little baggy. That was easier to hide than having them be too tight. "Well, the assassinations were definitely my father's work. I'm actually surprised that some of them have come to light so soon. This Moff must have some good sources. As for his daughter's death, well, all I can say is that it wasn't me. That's not my bag, and besides, I was . . . elsewhere . . . four months ago."

"I take it that I don't want to know where 'elsewhere' is?"

"It would be best if you didn't know, for now."

"Okay, but without revealing your identity, you can't clear yourself of the old killings, and you don't have any way of clearing yourself of the Moff's daughter's murder."

"I don't need any proof either way."

"WHAT?"

"I expect that you and the Moff are the only ones with those files, and the older ones are just to prove to you that I was the one who killed his daughter. And for that I'm just a scapegoat."

"I think I know where you're going, but I want to hear it from your lips."

"I think, Karin my dear, that your friend the Moff is the one who's setting me up."

Bismarck thought for a moment. "Regis... you will accompany me, of course. So will Hirokihata, Golavere, and Wairen. I also want Grimo and Uniani to accompany us."

Regis frowned at the last two. "Blackhawk 1 and 3? Why?"

Bismarck looked at him for a moment. "A flight escort is a welcome thing, Regis. See to it. We will all be down at the docking bay, and we will take a Sentinel Shuttle over to the Deathwail immediately."

#####

"Yevest and Havoch, you're on escort duty. Get to your TIEs immediately," the comm in the mess hall blared. Blackhawk 2 looked at the chosen escorts. "You'd think they'd give you a little rest, at least. Sorry, guys."

3 shrugged and 1 didn't move. "Doesn't matter to me. I figure the food's probably better over there, and with any luck, we'll get some."

2 chuckled. "Good point. I'll see you guys later. I'm on point patrol after this."

3 and 1 headed once again for their TIE bay. "I'm almost wondering why 2 wasn't chosen for this one," 3 murmured.

"We're better pilots, and the Admiral knows it. And this is a subtle form of reward, if I know the Admiral."

"They'd better have my 'Advanced' in perfect condition by the time I'm down there," 3 said.

1 shrugged. "It's not like you took crippling damage. Just a hit to the shields."

"I don't fly in crappy fighters, Yevest, and you know it."

"Neither do I, Uniani. Relax. Jumpy about being in the presence of a Sith Lord?"

"Not with the Admiral there, actually. His intelligence has pulled us out of jams before."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," said 1.

"Agreed."

#####

After a stopover in his quarters for a bag of prepared items, Rigel headed to the shuttle. He boarded it without much ceremony and took a seat. Once the other Captains had arrived, the shuttle took off, heading for the Deathwail. Bismarck considered for a moment. "The things I could do with such a fantastic piece of military machinery," he said, mulling them over in his mind. "Ahh, well. Perhaps I'll receive one of them one of these days. Of course, a Super- or Sovereign- class would also work just as well. Don't you think, Regis?"

Regis nodded, considering what he'd seen of the Deathwail from the bridge of the Scythe. "It's... incredible, sir."

Bismarck turned to him. "But it is also only capable of what the people aboard it are capable of. Never forget that, Regis. A ship must always have a good crew."

"Of course, Admiral. Of course."

Bismarck fell silent, thinking. 'Our good Lord Devastator would obviously be attempting to play me. It's what I would do, after all. This is supported by the fact that he spoke my own desires aloud to me in the message chamber. Now... how can I show him that he doesn't need to go through those motions with me? It is far easier if he just speaks his will good and clear so that I may go do it. Hmmm...'

#####

After arriving on the Deathwail, Bismarck stood and led his officers from the shuttle. Immediately prior to leaving the shuttle, he'd admonished them with the words "You're Imperial officers. Act like it in the presence of your obvious superior." That ought to have gotten the message across. He walked down the shuttle's ramp, noting as he did so the detachment of troops and the Admiral in front of them. Bismarck nodded. "Admiral Emago. A pleasure. I've heard much about both you and your brother."

"Your name is not unspoken in Imperial circles, Admiral Bismarck. The pleasure is all mine, I assure you. Welcome to the Deathwail. If you will follow me, I shall lead you to Lord de Devastator.  He sends his apologies, as he wanted very much to greet you personally.  He had unpredicted matters to attend to before meeting with you."

"Of course I'll follow you, Admiral. One could get lost easily on a ship this size."

Emago chuckled slightly, then headed off just as Grimo and Uniani caught up with Bismarck. "The pilot's mess is on Deck 40. You will be shown the way." Grimo and Uniani nodded to Admiral Emago and began to follow a stormtrooper to their destination.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say he doesn't like pilots." Uniani muttered quietly to Grimo

"He's not impressed by them, that's for sure. I noticed the way his lip curled in a slight sneer when he spoke with us." Grimo replied.

"Oh, well. That's life, I'm guessing. At least we get food."

The Dark Lord stood 50 meters away, flanked by four figures in blue armor resembling Imperial Royal Guard armor. To his immediate right, holding Domino's arm, stood a woman of surpassing beauty. She wore an elegant gray dinner gown and her wavy brown hair was pulled back into a tight braid that was coiled like ribbon on the back of her head.
"Emago, call those pilots back. While they are hardly senior officers, they shall be made welcome at my table."

Bismarck kneeled before the Dark Lord and his senior officers kneeled as well. "Rise, Admiral Bismarck. I've heard much about you."

Bismarck stood. "Thank you, my Lord. May these others rise as well?"

A flicker of amusement found it's way across Domino's face. "Rise," he commanded, and they did.

"Permission to speak freely, my Lord?"

Domino cocked his head. "Permission denied. Come eat... and then perhaps we will speak."

As they walked to the turbolift, Bismarck handed his bag to a subordinate. "Be careful. That bag contains things I wish to show Lord de Devastator, not the least of which is the TIE Enforcer designs, as well as my personal report to his Lordship." The aide nodded and held the bag.

The group entered the dining hall and Domino stood at the head of the table as the guests found their seats. Bismarck and his senior officers sat at the opposite end from the array of guests Domino had for himself. Bismarck scanned them all, trying to recognize them. Some of them seemed familiar. He could attempt to look them up once he had the time, if they could be looked up at all. "Allow me to present my senior staff, my Lord. Captain Regis, commanding officer directly under me on the Scythe, Captain Hirokihata, captain of the Victory-class Star Destroyer Black Belt. Captain Etaru Golavere of the Carrack Cruiser Pitfall. Captain Biretta Wairen of the Interdictor Cruiser Cessation."

Domino arched his eyes at the last. "A female Captain. Not many of those found in the mainstream Imperial Navy."

"As long as they get the job done, m'Lord, I care not what gender or species they are."

Domino allowed a chuckle. "Of course you already know that my own cousin, Darin de Devastator is a Grand Admiral in the Imperial Navy, but," he paused to invoke further emphasis, "you may not be aware that Deominians are not human, though we are distantly related."

Bismarck nodded. "Then we may share many philosophies about Imperial standards. Now..." Bismarck said with a wry smile. "How may I serve you?"

Tayne listened to Colonel Dez Falwahn explain the next campaign he was to devote his forces to. The new Corvette Tayne and Lt. Carmichael had purchased appeared to be in good working order as the Colonel described it.

When the briefing was over Tayne saw a man with the insignia of a Major. He walked over and said, "Hello sir. I'm Tayne Keller. I've been staying onboard for awhile and to put it simply, I'm missing the action. I was wondering if I could fly my freighter in the fight. You'll need all you can get."

The major looked Tayne over and said, "Sure. I think the Colonel would like you to take part." Tayne thanked him for the opportunity to fight with the Freefighters.

Tayne proceeded to look over his ship the Deathtoll. The four quad lasers were primed and the missile launchers were ready. But it would be a few days before they would be used.

Domino sat at the head of the table as the servants poured the rare Alderaanian wine for the guests. He waited to answer Bismarck's question for an uncomfortably long time, knowing it would agitate many in the room.
'It may not unnerve the good admiral as much as it does his senior officers. Bismarck may even suspect me of reading his very thoughts. If he only knew what I was thinking.'
Domino breathed in the bouquet of the wine as he observed the tannin on the side of his glass, then he slowly took a small sip and swished it around in his mouth. 'Oh, this wine is so good. Every time I sip from this vintage I thank the Force for the natural preserve of Alderaanian agriculture I had developed on Deominia.'
The Dark Lord smiled at his guests as they all began to drink the wine and the servers began to dispense the soup. "How may you serve me, Admiral Bismarck? How, indeed?" he answered as he sampled the soup.

'What is he playing at?' Bismarck thought to himself. 'I can play this game, though I can see my officers are taken in by it, becoming nervous.' Rigel Bismarck took a bite of the thick chowder along with Domino.

As he absently dipped his bread into the mixture, Domino chewed on his food thoughtfully before continuing. "It is my belief that you may have an agenda of your own, Rigel. You contacted me with the Emperor's wish that you aid me and I merely confirmed it with his eminence. Therefore, I think the best phrase is not 'How may I serve you, Lord de Devastator,' but 'Here's how I will serve you.'"
Lord de Devastator dipped another chunk of bread and stuffed it into his mouth, looked about the table and gestured to everyone to freely fill themselves with his hospitality, then took a long sip from his chalice. "So please tell me, good admiral, how will you serve me?"<

Bismarck sat, cocking his head slightly. If he wasn't reading my mind, then he's a good guesser. He didn't hit far off the mark. But then, two can play the waiting game. The time it will take me to frame my thoughts into words will be sufficient to make him think I'm acting in the same fashion as he is. This may lead him to think that I'm simply reacting to his opening thrust. Or he may believe that I am not only gleaning information from his behavior (which I am), but also on an intelligence level close to his own. Bismarck smiled. Or maybe I'm just going to deeply into things.

Domino sat patiently across the table. "Admiral? Are you awake over there?"

"Quite awake, Lord Devastator. And I believe I have the answer to your question." He paused and looked meaningfully at Domino. "You've seen the ships in my task force?"

"You will address me as 'Lord de Devastator' from now on. I admit my name may sound conveniently contrived, but I'm quite proud of my heritage.
Now, I've seen your task force from a distance, yes. I hear you've accomplished much with them, and manage to keep them in good condition."

Rigel frowned. "Good condition," he said with evident disgust. "Twenty year old equipment in good condition. I'm working with proverbial swords and arrows, Lord Devas..... Forgive me, Lord de Devastator, and that makes it harder to accomplish my tasks. Despite the fact that I am fully accustomed to working with this antiquated technology, it annoys me severely to see others waste entire fleets of Imperial-classes against targets that require nothing greater than a few Victory-classes. Which, incidentally, is why I was saddled with my current task force. It impresses the other commanders that I can do as I have with my old equipment, and so I am given more of it. And work with it I must, just to be kept an Admiral."

Bismarck paused here to eat some. Domino noticed that he did not drink as much of the wine as others at the table did. "Is there something wrong with my wine, Admiral?" Bismarck paused, caught off guard slightly. "No, it's excellent. I simply don't have much of a preference for alcoholic drinks. I prefer to keep my wits about me, although I am accustomed to drinking and wine every now and then is quite pleasant."

Domino nodded. "I see. I personally delight in drinking wine, especially with important guests and when the wine is an excellent vintage such as this one it makes it all the sweeter. Now, please continue."

Bismarck swallowed his spoonful of chowder. "I didn't become an Admiral in the first place by being a fool. I know which way the tides of power shift in the Empire, Lord de Devastator. Just as one could once grow in power and prestige by impressing Lord Vader, so can one now do the same by impressing people above them... people like you, my Lord. I can see this, and I have several desires I want fulfilled."

Domino arched an eyebrow but Bismarck continued anyway. "But I am no fool. In return for giving me what I wish, you will receive nothing less than the best in service. For you see..." Bismarck smiled. "It is one of my paramount desires that I attain the rank of Grand Admiral. I know I am qualified, but the title is not one that is handed out frequently. One must have considerable support to attain the position. If you've seen my record, you know that my active and passive participation in military actions is superb, and my combined number of planetary conquests and planetary conquest assists is very high. In fact, I have performed many of the actual conquests myself, however I am not credited with some of them because someone else with a greater amount of firepower did most of the actual fighting. I despise the fact that others have taken credit which should be mine, but in the long run it matters not. I will perform the steps necessary to rise in position."

Bismarck paused once again to eat. "And I have step one: a proven track record. I will serve you, Lord de Devastator, to the best of my abilities in any way you see fit and I will bring to you all my ideas to assist the Empire. All I ask in return is for better military machinery than I have now, and the title of Grand Admiral, which is, in my opinion, the ultimate recognition for service."

Domino sat in silence for a while, eating occasionally. At long last, he spoke. "You don't ask for much, do you Bismarck? You know that without proof positive you can perform as you say, you will not gain anything and I will find that unimpressive... most unimpressive."

Bismarck smiled broadly. "Of course I know, Lord de Devastator. I will not only convince you, but also those who have influence with you, if I may. Preferably starting with your cousin, Grand Admiral Darin de Devastator, and moving on to others I've heard of such as General Tamar and Captain Delsin. I shall also impress certain of your other associates, including the beautiful young lady next to you." Bismarck nodded. "Yes, I will convince her, too, despite the fact that if she is a fighter, as her build suggests, she will probably not immediately respect my intellectual prowess."

"As for proof... it is currently in the making. I've recently set in motion certain key events which will bring down the Rebel base on Ord Pardron, and the possible recapture of the Bilbringi shipyards."

Domino nodded. "You're very ambitious, Admiral. Obviously you wouldn't have come to me without having something in mind. However, I am intrigued. The Bilbringi shipyards would be a great asset to the Empire. Starship production could always stand an increase. And," Domino stated bringing a hand up to rub his chin, "as I recall, Ord Pardron is the major protective body of the Defluvian sector, where Ukio is. Rebel pressure from that location has made receiving food supplies from Ukio more difficult."

"I'm well aware, my Lord. If it is permissible, the full plans and preparations will be discussed after dinner. Then I can show you why I should have been made a Grand Admiral long ago."

Deep in the Outer Rim, the ships and men of the mercenary group Fahlwan's Freefighters prepared themselves for battle. Pilots flew sim missions, troops trained on simulated Nebulon B bridges and decks, Verpine technicians gave their equipment a last inspection and tuning.
Colonel Fahlwan stood on the command deck of Fahlwan's Pride, "Captain, is my flagship ready?"
Captain Thorne nodded," The Pride is fully at your command Colonel"
"Very well, bring the fleet about and set our coarse for the interception point."
"As ordered Sir!"
The ships of Fahlwan's Freefighters turned, hung for a moment in space, then with a flicker disappeared into hyperspace.

The trip from Torina to Derilyn was, in fact, as short as Han could make it; a four hour standard trip, cut by 20% due to the Freedom Dream's hyperdrive, and cut literally down to one quarter of the normal time by a hyperspace shortcut Han found (thanks to his superb navigational skills). 
'Yes sir, I shortened the Kessel Run, now I've managed to shave three hours from the Extreme.' Han was feeling really good about himself when Hawk reached up to pull the lever which would disengage the hyperdrive and drop them into realspace.
Han stopped feeling quite so smug when he saw the blockade surrounding Derilyn. 

"What's this?" he asked, vocalizing what both he and Hawk were thinking. 
"Rhadlikk, you gotta see this. Looks like a greeting committee is here to welcome us to the Derilyn system."

"Yes, we should finish this discussion after dinner," Domino agreed, "for I have prepared something in the way of entertainment for all of us."
As the Dark Lord and his guests continued with their meal, Rayla, who had not had anything except some wine, stood from her seat and walked to the center of the room. She was joined by five men wearing all black.
"This is the traditional Deominian dance symbolizing a Rite of Ascension," she said. "It is more commonly performed when forging a new alliance, to ensure that all are aware of the benefits cooperation."
The six figures began their dance, which could only be described as graceful and serene. The dancers moved with an elegance nonpareil, each young man taking his turn performing a combination of moves with Rayla. Each combination ended with Rayla being thrown to the next dancer. The dance continued as the host and each guest enjoyed the food that was served. Admiral Bismarck even allowed himself to drink slightly more wine than he normally would have, but nothing to impair his wits.

The tempo of the music, which had been slow, increased to a much more rapid time, and the dancers had the appearance that something was very wrong. Suddenly, from the shadows, two more dancers entered the area and a mock brawl ensued. Of course it was all choreographed so that it was in time with the music, but it was evident that the two attackers were intent on destroying the five men and abducting the woman.

Karin woke up, and noticed that the bed next to her was empty. Through slitted eyes she noticed a faint glow coming from across the room. She opened her eyes, and saw Marr sitting at the computer. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Don't worry about me, I don't sleep much. Occupational hazard. Just go back to bed."

"No, I've slept enough. It's dangerous in my profession too." She walked over to the computer screen where Marr was working. "What is that?"

"Just some information on Glinn and his cronies that I bought. I've developed some hypotheses as to what's going on, but I don't want to share them until I've sorted through this data a bit more."

DeLumar grimaced. "I won't ask you where you got the information." She walked over to her wardrobe. "Since you obviously don't need my company, I'll just look over my ship." Marr just nodded his assent and silently went over the data on the screen.

When she reached the door, she remembered something and turned around. "By the way, we'll be arriving in six hours. You might want to be back in your ship by then."

"Dinnae worry, lass. Ay'll be in there in four, tops."

Karin smiled and strolled into the hall, barely suppressing the tune that sprung into her head.

When it was over, that was indeed what happened. As everyone clapped at the stunning performance, Domino sat forward in his chair. "That was the reenactment of an actual event in Deominian history, admiral." He sipped from his cup again and then considered his words. "The noblewoman, Lady Altra'Rue, was traveling from her family home to entreat the High Lord of her continent to seek peace with a neighboring realm. The five young men were her escorts, and the dancing maneuvers...," Domino chuckled, "I'll simply say that in those days it was not uncommon for the nobility to have many lovers among their higher servants." 
The Dark Lord took another sip of the wine. "The two attackers were representative of the revolutionaries that did not want peace among the continents of the planet. They killed Lady Altra'Rue's bodyguards and kidnapped her in order to start a great war. The results of that war led my ancestor, Audric Elerian, to leave Deominia to travel throughout the rest of the galaxy. His journey was a perilous one, for that was 6000 years ago, nearly 1000 years before the placement of hyperspace beacons." Domino looked around to be sure that his guests were not sleeping. "Forgive me, I digress. The dance is a portion of a ritual of passage, a rite of ascension. Those who perform it are declaring that they are worthy to become a member of the Deominian nobility.
"Naturally, I have no use for such a tradition, but the people of my world enjoy this activity, and as it takes place once every ten years, I don't find any harm in it. The dance is only the beginning of many trials. from that point, things are taken slightly more seriously, for some have met their mortal end in the rituals.
"Pressing on to why I chose this particular dance as our entertainment, Rayla mentioned that the dance is an illustration of cooperation. You no doubt noticed that the two attackers vanquished the five bodyguards. Those numbers were accurate. Lady Altra'Rue had five bodyguards and two men attacked and killed them. Cooperation and superb training. Teamwork and tactics. Strategy and commitment."

Bismarck sat behind his empty plate. He had never tasted a better prepared meal of vrelda flank served with mashed crunkroot. As his body began to digest the food he had eaten, his mind worked on all that Domino said to him.
Then it clicked. 'It appears as if the Dark Lord is not playing games with me. Is he trying to illustrate respect and teamwork.'

Domino smiled as he looked at Bismarck's eyes. "Admiral, I want you to know that you have no need for political posturing and meaningless words. If you have been asked to report to me, then I would ask that you be willing to learn how my organization functions. There is no bickering for favor. There is no push for notoriety. Achievement is its own reward, and those who succeed will have the recognition that is due."

Bismarck sat quietly, listening as Domino spoke. 'So this is the great Dark Lord of the Sith? A soft-hearted, kindly, "father figure" sort of commander. How can I hope to flourish?'

"Admiral, I respect your abilities. I admire your record of service. You have brought with you a venerable group of commanders who, no doubt, would throw their lives down for the Empire if you bade them the order to do so. I appreciate your desires and your ambitions, and I can use your abilities, but....." Domino trailed off as he walked right up to the admiral and looked him in the eye, "arrogance does not rest well in my belly, but I will devour it so that it does not poison my command. You can prove your worthiness to General Tamar, you can possibly outwit Captain Delsin, and you may even beat Rayla at holochess, but if you ever assume too much you will only prove yourself a fool."
Domino remained motionless as Admiral Bismarck returned his stare, meeting the eyes of the Dark Lord in a contest of wills. "Rayla is my assassin, trained in the arts of death, but do not think for a moment that her education is less than impressive. You would be hard pressed to find one so learned. If you should ever think that you can enter my presence and demand such as you have here today, you will find out how past officers such as Admiral Ozzel and Captain Needa enjoyed serving and impressing a Sith Lord. Am I understood?"

Rigel Bismarck could feel his heartbeat quicken as the perspiration began to form on his brow.  Forcing himself to be calm, he replied, "Yes, my Lord."

"There is one more thing you need to understand and we're going to get along well, admiral," Domino said, turning back to his seat.

Bismarck refrained from wiping his brow as he asked the obvious question, "What is that, Lord de Devastator?"

Domino picked up his chalice and drained it of its contents. "Due to my command of the Force, I have an unfair advantage over those who serve me.  I recognize this, and all are wise to keep this in mind." He sat down in his chair before concluding. "Unlike Vader, I refrain from using my advantage unless I truly need to. Your thoughts will remain your own as long as I trust you. If your actions begin to displease me, you will know of my displeasure and we will have a talk. If you flagrantly upset me, you will become intimate with the wrath of a Sith Lord."

There was no talking in the room or several minutes, then Domino broke the silence. "Admiral, you have some plans you were hoping to share with me, and a design for a new starfighter. You now have the floor."

Somewhere in the Outer Rim the ships of Fahlwan's Freefighters hung in space. Men, women, and others made frantic last minute preparations.
Colonel Fahlwan stood at the head of his briefing table," Gentlemen, you know your places, good luck and good hunting!"
The Officers all rose and headed for their assigned duties, some rushing for shuttles to their ships, others to stations aboard the Fahlwan's Pride.
Dez walked swiftly toward the flag deck.
As he entered, Captain Thorne looked up from a status board and said, "Colonel, the fleet is ready and the countdown has started. Do you have any additional orders?"
Dez nodded, "Yes, Captain, I do. Do you recall that merc fellow that brought us the Vengeance?"
"Is he still aboard? I thought he left some time ago."
" No Captain, he has asked to remain and take part in this engagement. I want you to assign him to assist the Vengeance in it's disable mission against Vengeance's assigned Nebulon B Frigate. See to it that he is informed of my desires."
"I'll attend to it immediately."
"Good." Dez moved on to his command chair and took his seat.

#####

Tayne was sitting in his cockpit when the message came through. 'I'm to assist with the disabling of a Nebulon B...eh? O.K. that sounds good, if things go well I'll have time afterward to show this colonel I'm good enough to lead his people. Not just help them out.'

Bismarck sat in thought for a moment, analyzing this latest thrust by Domino. To those around him, it seemed almost as if he sat in a petulant silence while smarting from the rebuke he'd just received, but Biretta Wairen knew better. She was having a hard time keeping still, though. At long last, Bismarck spoke.

"Pardon me if I don't get to it right away, Lord de Devastator. I need to run damage assessments," he said. His eyes blinked and rolled back in his head for a moment, then refocused and Bismarck began speaking in a choppy, mechanical voice while his face transformed itself into... something else that was not quite human.

"Sweat on my brow... it's been quite some time... congratulations, Lord de Devastator. You've terrified both me and my senior officers into submission," he said, his head turning to the left. It almost surprised everyone there when his head was looking sideways and a sickening crunch was heard. His head turned left and more rather odd scraping sounds came from his neck region as he scanned his officers. "Unless I miss my guess, Hirokihata is about to fall out of his chair, Golavere's knuckles are perfectly white right now, and Wairen will have trouble with the shaking for several hours. Uniani's sitting there perfectly calm on the outside, and inside he's feeling fear for one of the many times of his life, and Yevest doesn't really care one way or the other. He's a pilot, knows his job, is good at it, and doesn't worry about all the people who's heads could be lifted from their shoulders by angry Sith Lords."

With an audible clack, his joints settled back into their normal places. "And, might I add, you've impaired my ability to command my men for several hours. Thank you, Lord de Devastator, for this wonderful lesson which, might I add, could have been accomplished just as easily in private than before my senior staff. But I suppose you felt it necessary to strike fear into the hearts of those you command every once in a while."

Bismarck's face resumed it's normal expression. He stood and bowed. "It's been a pleasure meeting with you, my Lord. I'm afraid it will no longer be possible for me to discuss my plans right now. You see, you've scattered my thoughts to the winds, and I myself can no longer function. May I have leave to rebuild the shattered nerves of both myself and my senior staff before continuing? Or must I sit here and attempt to explain my plans in a most incoherent, rambling fashion which I have no doubt will further decrease your opinion of me?"

Domino looked at the admiral for several seconds. He was completely beside himself, feelings of incredulity washing over him as he beheld the bizarre spectacle of the being before him and as he pondered the completely insubordinate words of that very same being. "That will be enough melodrama for one day, Admiral.  I will admit to feeling slightly surprised at your condition, but this does nothing to excuse your demands of me or the rest of the Empire. Furthermore, it does not lessen the level of offense I am beginning to feel toward your observed lack of respect for me and my authority. If I am to be your commanding figure, you will cease demanding; present your plans, and accept my decrees."
The Dark Lord stood once more, striding slowly toward Admiral Bismarck. "You and your officers will remain as my guests until I am completely satisfied that you and I understand our roles in the Imperial chain of command."

Amid the cracking and scraping of Bismarck's bones against one another, the members of the Graveyard Strike Force that were in the dining hall left after Domino had spoken. They were not allowed to leave the ship, however, which gave Bismarck time to think about how he had upset the Dark Lord. Domino was sitting in his meditation chamber when he felt Bismarck's presence nearby about an hour later. Smiling to himself, he allowed the Admiral to be let in, not entirely pleased that he had to crush Bismarck's ego under the heel of his boot, but not caring overly much. Just so long as the good Admiral didn't try that trick ever again.

Domino turned... and was actually shocked to see a gaunt, skeletal parody of Bismarck standing before him instead of the healthy, 30-something face he'd seen at dinner. "Greetings, Lord de Devastator," Bismarck said, his head twisting 90 degrees to the left as he spoke. "I perceive that you are somewhat stupefied at the results of your handiwork?"

Domino viewed Bismarck, partially with consternation and partially with curiosity. "Please, do sit. Are you all right, Admiral? I would like for you to me explain both what happened with your body and why."

What could pass for a wry smile crossed Bismarck's face. "I won't achieve full muscular and joint control until I have reached the age of 75. Severe shocks to my system often cause me to lose control." Bismarck's tone was one of respect, at least, despite the fact that his jaw wasn't moving as it should. "A property of Sillestians. I doubt you've heard much of us, and we attempt to keep it that way."

Domino frowned and shook his head. "No, I have heard nothing of your kind. Is this a near-human race, like the Deominians, or a branch-off of humanity?"

In answer, Bismarck looked at one of his hands with an intensity almost frightening in nature... not that it would have scared Domino, of course. Slowly, the joints in his hand clicked back into place and the hand became a normal hand again. "Sillestians under the age of 60 have a tendency, when overly scared or frightened, to disengage their joints. The radiation that is emitted toward our planet changed us... we look normal, but more often than not one of our genes is heightened beyond normal into an enhanced skill. My particular gift was my intellect. Others have received great physical prowess."

Domino nodded. "I see. So the Sillestians are a branch-off from humanity. Highly interesting. If there were some way to utilize this "dislocation" your bodies experience when overwhelmed, it could begin to be a benefit rather than a hindrance.
Rigel, if you don't mind my attempt to be more familiar, I sympathize with your plight. As a non-human myself, I understand the stigma that exists for other races and the mutated versions of humanity; however, I would like to note to you that it was fully deserved. I do not tolerate disrespect in any fashion."

Bismarck nodded, then tentatively spoke. "If I may be frank?"
Domino gestured with his right hand in a manner to suggest a simple 'please do.'
"For the sake of the Sillestian population, I would ask you to please consider removing the memories of my muscular failure from your subordinates. To have something that's been kept such a careful secret for over 55 years over a moment of arrogance is probably unwise." Bismarck sighed. "Well, at least I have what I needed, Lord de Devastator. You will probably find that I will be much more amiable from now on."

Domino raised his right hand again. "You may find that being agreeable will be good for your continued health. Now... what is it you needed from me?"

"Profile information. I create profiles of everyone I meet who strikes me as important. Part of my exercises in getting inside the head of an enemy. Please do not take offense."

"No offense, provided that you understand I am not your enemy, Admiral. Make sure you do not become mine." Domino said, staring into Bismarck's eyes, which then promptly rolled into the back of his head.

"Yes, my Lord. But I think you will find that I am quite able... as you will see in the Ord Pardron engagement. I'd like you to personally view it, if possible."

Domino frowned. "I will take it under consideration, Admiral, but I have my own duties to attend to. 'If possible' is the key, but I would like very much to observe your plans in action."

Bismarck nodded, the joints there clicking back into place as well. "Now, my Lord... if I may have some more time to pull myself together, I will gladly tell you what I have in mind. I formally request that you gather your military advisors so that they may see what I have in mind and help me find the flaws in it."

Domino's eyes flickered showing a somewhat laid back emotional state. "Again, we shall see. For the discussion of your plans, I would like to have time to assemble my best advisors. It will take at least a 5 hours for General Tamar to reach us. Yes, and I would very much like to include Captain Delsin. Tamar is completing the destruction of the Nerakan regime, but his work should be complete." Domino's eyes lit up and a smile crossed his lips. "Perhaps you can impress the two of them at this meeting."

"Your mission is to sneak on board the MC Cruiser in the convoy, then acquire the secrets it contains in cargo bay 224-41-B, parcel numbers 8-10. Succeed, and you will be rewarded very well when you return. Fail and you won't."

Specter nodded, then flipped off the comm unit. Should be a piece of cake.

Tayne sat prepping his ship for the upcoming battle when the message came through. "Tayne Keller. Your orders for the upcoming battle are to assist the X-Wings with the disablement of one of the Nebulon B frigate's."

Tayne acknowledged. He knew this was going to be his chance to become a leader for Falwahn. He started continued prepping his ship for battle.

In a conference room on board the Deathwail...

The Dark Lord stroked his beard, almost absent-mindedly. "I wonder if you would like to show me those TIE Enforcer plans you mentioned while we wait for General Tamar to arrive. Would that suit you? please note that my starfighter knowledge is slightly outdated, but I can out fly an average cadet on my worst day. I'm always interested in a new improvement, and the Nerakans were gracious enough to supply the Empire with their shipyards here at Shuma-Ikonn. We can get Sienar Fleet Systems teams out here inside three days. Within a month they could have prototypes leaving the production floor."

Rigel nodded. "I would be happy to show you the design plans for the Enforcer. I'm quite proud of this craft."

"Then I would relish the opportunity to look it over."

Bismarck stood and picked up the black hooded robe he'd worn over his uniform. His facial joints clicked back into place, as did those in his legs. "Oh, and Admiral." Bismarck stopped as he turned to go. Domino waved a hand, casually restoring about half of the malfunctioning joint sections in Bismarck's body. "A sign of my goodwill. I am not heartless, as some would like to think." Bismarck bowed, not scraping his bones this time, then turned to leave as Domino spoke again.

"Mmmm... before I forget, there was one thing I wished to address to you, and since I have already dressed you down before your officers and my other guests...." he paused and considered his words. "You have mentioned outdated ships. If they are as outdated as you say, then we shall have to attend to this as soon as possible. I am skeptical, however. You claim to have 20 year old ships, yet at least 90% of the ships that existed after the battle of Endor have either been destroyed since then or drydocked to be torn apart for their sub-assemblies. Are you going to enter my presence and try to convince me that your ships are twenty years old, or do you simply mean the designs of the ships themselves?

Bismarck shook his head, his joints not flopping about because they were firmly in place now. "The designs, my Lord. Unless I'm mistaken the most recently designed ship I have beyond the Scythe is the Victory Star Destroyer, produced at the end of the Clone Wars. I must admit, I cannot recall when the Interdictor was drawn up, so it may be the more recent ship type, but the point remains that most of my ships were designed before the Rebellion, or in it's early stages, while most of the ships I fight against were designed to combat the Imperial Star Destroyer."

Pulling a datapad out of his ever-present satchel, Bismarck smiled. "Which is why I funneled funds into the development of these plans. The technicians I worked with were very helpful, although a dispute arose as to the number of warheads the fighter should be able to carry. I feel it should be closer to four per launcher while they think one to two is better for the purpose of reducing the weight."

"But the fact remains that the fighter can use warheads," Bismarck stated handing Domino the datapad. "As you can see from the display, the TIE Enforcer is similar to the Interceptor in theory, although instead of a mere two solar panels, it has four. This provides it extra energy and flight stability, although it has the disadvantage of reducing vision. This means that, while the fighter is quite exceptional, if the sensor feed is lost the pilot will be forced to rely on limited visual recognizance. The solar panels are equidistantly interspersed on the hull, and in between them are four weapon attachment sites with a shield generator to the rear giving it a claw-like appearance on the whole. Each site can be fitted with either an ion cannon, a laser cannon, or a warhead launcher. This design allows for multiple combat options, and the fact that the sites are modular means the fighter can be refitted with ease on a mission to mission basis. Standard equip is two laser cannons, an ion cannon, and a warhead launcher, just so that the fighter will be ready for anything in a general sense."

"As you can undoubtedly see, this design is superb. Former critical hits during a battle now will have an 80 percent chance of hitting either the easily replaceable weapons or the similarly designed solar panels. All in all, a very worthwhile ship to consider. I have designs in my head for capital starships, of course, but starfighters cost much less, and can be put into action much faster."

Suddenly, Bismarck grinned. "Now, Lord de Devastator, please explain to me why I feel like a salesman." Domino let out a deep hearty chuckle, then began to stroke his beard. "Yes... they are indeed worthwhile. I'll have a thirteen prototypes built as fast as possible." "The twelve I've requisitioned... and one for yourself, my Lord?" Domino smiled. "I quite enjoy flying, Admiral. If these ships are as good as you say, I'm sure I'll like it even more."

Bismarck bowed, most of his joints now well in place. "Thank you, my Lord. May I have leave to prepare my presentation for the Ord Pardron assault?" "Of course Admiral. You may go."

MOVE ON TO PART VI
RETURN TO THE ARCHIVES