[b]Imperial Battlegroup 701,
Bridge of the Imperial II Star Destroyer, The Intrepid, 
Hyperspace, several light-years away from Onderon[/b]

"Admiral on the bridge!" Shouted one of the bridge officers as Fleet Admiral Gable Karius arrived on the bridge. The middle-aged Imperial officer, who was half man and half machine slowly made his way down the bridge toward the viewing port. The bright blue reflection of hyperspace illuminated the bridge. All around him, officers worked around the clock to make the final preparations for the mission. As Karius stepped up to the viewing poet, some of the officers in the pits to the side looked up, glacing at the imposing Admiral as he walked by. Once he stopped at the viewport, he picked up a datapad from a nearby aid and looked up the preparation reports. 

It wasn't uncommon for Karius to check manifests and reports every few minutes. The Admiral had an obssession with perfection, and that led to him sometimes micromanaging everything he had any responsability for. 

"Commander Caltrel!" Shouted Karius, drawing the attention of a nearby officer. The man was in his early 40's. Caltrel was one of the few career officers in The Intrepid who came from one of the Inner Core worlds. This particular commander was from Corusant. The nephew of a wealthy tax collector who had somehow made it this far in the Imperial Navy.

"Admiral?" Caltrel stood straight and calm. He seemed rather confused at the Admiral's sudden aggression. 

"There is a crate of supplies missing from this manifesto. Care to explain?" 
Karius pointed at the screen of the datapad with his cybernetic hand. 

The Commander shruged. "It's just one crate. Logistics must have missed the deadline." 

Karius scoffed, taking a few threatening steps in the Commander's direction. "Are you shifting blame toward your subordinates, commander?"

"Of course not. I mean, they could have made a mistake. B-but perhaps I simply missed sir. Perhaps if I can-" Caltrel tried to reach for the datapad, but was instead met by the Admiral robotic limb as it latched onto his neck and lifted him up in the air. 

"Do you take me for some kind of fool!? This setback could cost us the mission you insolent incompetent!" Before Caltrel could explain himself, the Admiral tossed him into one of the pits. His body made a hollow thud sound as it hit the metallic floor. Luckily, the Commander was knocked unconcious rather killed. Some of the crew bellow rushed to the Commander's aid, carrying him away. 

Karius let out a robotic sigh through his modulator, sending out an order through the datapad for the crews in the hangars to ensure the crate was accounted for.

-Onderon- the word, the planet brought back a flurry of memories. In her youth, she longed to see the world of the Beast Men, the defiant royal family and the place where Freedon Nadd met is end. In her youth, she'd dreamed of leading Jedi to tame the uncivilized world and bring order to such a wild part of the inner rim. She did of course, during the early days of the war. One of Darth Ruins lieutenants, some infuriating Sephi who had claimed the mantle of Sith Lord decided to take the planet for himself. He set up his seat of power in the old palace, when she stormed the planet he attempted to conjure the dark side energies into one terrible blast but had succeeded only in destroying himself and his own apprentices. Ah yes, she thought, though it was unbecoming of a Jedi Master she allowed herself a small measure of exhilaration when she pulled the palace down around what remained of his rabble.

Rabble, what she was so often surrounded by now. She stood on the main catwalk of the command bridge, an ivory figure shrouded in a dark purple cloak, her bone white hair falling about slender shoulders a living marble statue that occasionally swayed, moving as an Alsakan cobra might when luring in prey.

Someone stormed passed her, she had been too lost in the memories and in the gathering of her strength to notice exactly who until the wheezing gasp of a respirator and a life support system clued her in. Fleet Admiral Gable Karius, the tin man toy of a monstrosity too profane to fathom. His association with Lord Vader as they called the wretched Homunculus made her think lesser of him than she did of most of these so called "officers" until that is, she saw him at work. Karius was astute, aggressive but not blind, ambitious but not ungovernable in that ambition and above all else loyal to the concept of order.

His men respected him as much as they feared her, a fear she was told that came about because every force user they were used to dealing with apparently murdered people at the drop of a hat. Short sighted animals that they were, she would have to change that and this mission that simpering fossil clutching to the remnants of a dead man's power to hold back his downfall another day presumptuously ordered her on. -I will play the dutiful Knight, for now- , Karius anger amused her and like a true romantic, a true patriot he thought only of incompetence, grift did not enter into the equation, no soldier would be so stupid as to embezzle munitions or medical supplies on the eve of battle.

Except, they always did.

"Admiral" She spoke up, her voice imperious, it rang across the command deck like a melody but hid within it menace and madness. "Admiral I do not believe he was stupid" she turned her profile casting a long shadow before her obscuring the metal half of the man. "I believe he was appropriating that to sell on the black market..It is an old vice of middle of the road officers after all"

Corruption, was universal, no matter the century, no matter the government.

For now any way.

He raised his gaze from the datapad for a moment. 
"Reasons are irrelevant. Whether he is corrupt or incompetent, it doesn't matter. I won't tolerate it. My orders are clear and concise. And any who stray from it will face the concequences." 

It was a mistake keeping him around. Karius had a feeling Caltrel would pull something like this sooner or later. Whether it was jealousy, selfishness or pure stupidity it didn't matter. All he cared about is that things were done on time and that his orders were followed. It was simple.

Purple eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and annoyance, disciplining someone who indulged in gift the same way one disciplined a fool was acceptable during times of war but outside of that? Well, the corrupt had their uses, turning them to ensure you had the right supplies when vexatious logistics clerks were not always forthcoming. Or simply strapping them to a post and whipping them until their ribs and spine could be seen before ordering them hauled off to a bacta tank to make an example of them was also acceptable. The Master was a pragmatist yes, but like Admiral Karius she shared his love for order and his need for discipline. "When we make orbit around Onderon, I shall lead the strike team" the woman turned now fully, allowing her form to move from its statuesque posture into a disturbingly fluid, almost slither as she seemingly glided across the walkway towards the viewing plasteel. "I wish you to remain here, two thousand years ago I brought a fleet of twelve thousand ships out of hyperspace and skimmed atmosphere" a slow smile crept across her features as one of the men on Nav comm duty gasped, not at the size but at the fact that she managed to bring a fleet that large into a gravity well without killing everything in a ten thousand click radius. "The Darkside has ravaged this system for millennium Admiral, Hyperspace is loose..While most navigators and pilots wouldn't know this. The Rebel alliance has made shall we say...liberal use of smugglers, force sensitives, mental patients and other reprobates who would look to know such things. In the event we're set upon by such men, it is better to have at least one experienced commander in the sky. And, I much rather you not lose more of your organic tissue" The woman moved a hand from her cloak and reached up to part an errant strand of hair from her face.

"In another life, we would have been enemies. I fought the Sith here, I killed thousands of them here" The woman paused and then let out a breath, soft, almost gentle, almost mournful. The consummate theatricality of a woman bred for politics, bred to lead, consecrated in the force to command. "Thirty two..Billion...That was the price I was willing to pay for justice, for order" Though, whether she was confessing to the body count she personally possessed, or her entire theatre in the first century of a millennia spanning war would be up to the listener. "Your price seems more personal, is it not? Though I suppose we have both paid in our own blood as well" She turned, moving with that dancer's grace and set a hand on the metallic shoulder, a predatory gaze in her violate eyes "Are my Storm Troopers ready Admiral? I should like to meet with them before we jump..And if you wish, I shall instruct your navigations officers in how to jump near atmosphere, it should give us an extra twenty seconds before their sensors pick anything up"

Karius seemed unimpressed by the Dark Sider's bragging. She could have killed trillions in the past. Destroyed countless worlds. Toppled dozens of governments. But, he preferred the here and now. The past and future were completely irrelevant to his mission. 

"Otherwise, what use would you be to the Empire? Inform the navigation officers before you go to the hangar. I'll monitor everything from here." 
Karius kept his eyes fixated on the datapad. He had more important things to attend to than engage in small talk on the bridge of a Star Destroyer.

For the briefest of moments her eyes flashed with something akin to amusement before she relented and turned on her heels, her the fabric fluttering about her as she made her turn giving her shadow the visage of a hooded serpent as she walked with the kind of grace and elegance that came from a childhood spent meticulously rehearsing etiquette, form, protocol and conduct. "May the force be with you, Admiral Karius" The last part spoken in an almost empathetic tone or near as close as she chose to manage when dealing with people accustomed to a culture of short sighted cutthroats. Automatic doors swung open and soon enough she was down into the main docking and disembarkation bay of this "Imperial Class Star Destroyer". 

Sending a battleship alone without escorts into one of the most wild systems in the inner rim, this close to rebel space was perhaps the best example of why micromanagement by career politicians was the single greatest threat to military success any warring nation faced. A single..what were they? The phallic shaped ones, Carrack class gunboats could have achieved this but Pestage sent a Star Destroyer, without its battlegroup. She'd consider murdering him upon her triumphant return for the impudent were she not certain it would have been the worst possible move to make at the present and were it not for the fact that he did this less out of a desire to eliminate two potential rivals and more because he was a damned fool.

Star Destroyers were meant to ferry around thousands of regular army troops, hundreds of Storm Troopers, they were meant to be a force multiplier and augmentation vessel, a hub for picket command not a damned raider. Were it not for her suggestion regarding the hyperlanes being unstable enough to pop out in atmosphere without it being suicide she was certain every vessel for a lightyear would sniff them out.

How was it, someone who spent the entire existence of the Empire in a force induced coma knew more about how to properly wield its forces than the supposed leader? And she was certain Karius had the same sense of consternation, though he must have been glad to be on field duty again.

That was another thing they had in common, she had been idle too long. The sheer size of these vessels always impressed her, but she was always somewhat disappointed at the overabundance of fighters, a lack of mechanized ground combat vehicles. The Rebels utterly slaughtered their TIE pilots in space because they were treated as cannon fodder, this made these behemoths vulnerable and squandered away the potential of so many pilots, so many resources. 

Those in the combat bay waiting for her were veterans, she could sense the blood in the air and the history. Were they remnants of the 501st? Leftovers from Endor? -Another terrible mistake that-

What a magnificent legion, what a dishonor. 

Or were they another group? The woman allowed herself to smile...it had been too long

The combat bay was filled with AT-ST's, AT-AT's and other repulsorlift vehicles all set and ready to go. Some were being loaded onto transports while others were being transported deeper into the ship for maintenance. Among the vehicles were the venerable stormstroopers. All of them had blue markings on their armor, the sigil of the 501st. Myria hadn't been told she would be working for the veteran 501st, though she should have figured this would be the cade. Admiral Karius' close relationship with Darth Vader probably got him some friends among the Stormtroopers of the 501st. As she walked down the catwalk and observed the soldiers and technicians below she spotted one of the stormtroopers standing on the catwalk. He was holding his helmet under his arm and his armor was adorned by a black side cape adorned with blue lines. As for the Stormtrooper himself, he had scarring all over his face. He looked like he had survived countless battles.

purple eyes flickered in recognition the closer she got to the Stormtroopers, recognition that filled her with a sense of purpose. The force was a fickle substance, one that could react to those attempting to harvest and mold it a myriad of different ways not in the least of it to fight back against your hands with all manner of violence and misfortune, other times it provided. -Pestage, you fool, you would send these men on a suicide mission?- This artifact, it would be interesting to get a glimpse of it, to understand why this fool was so desperate for it. Though she ordinarily had no use for Sith trinkets, in this new era, it was important to understand how much they'd evolved, how much this golem Luke Skywalker rose to match them and then, in matching exceeding. 

A veteran, excellent, though she was disappointed that none of the original clones seemed to remain. He had the look of a man who had tasted both the highest of victories and the most bitter of defeats, a man who wasn't demoralized but neither was he still confident in the mantle he inherited and the reputation and legacy his nearly vanquished legion commanded. She paused some two meters from them and regarded them with fierce eyes, her posture shifting from one of a serpent at hunt to a Lothalan wolf seeking to command her pack. "You were at Endor" the faintest glimmer of surprise shifted over cheek muscles kneaded into dough by scar tissue and quickly concealed impressed her. Vader might have been an abomination but he kept his soldiers at their best.

The Captain turned at attention, facing her as she addressed him. A force of habit drilled into these soldiers from the moment they entered the academy. 

"Yes, Ma'am. I was." Short and simple. This man was a real soldier.

The woman allowed herself a short, curt nod as she folded slender arms behind a straight back, resting them above her hips as she met the man in his eyes. She could almost sense the resentment brimming below some of them at the mention of Endor, how maligned they must be. "I've read of your legions history, its victories in the Clone wars, its pacifications and hunting down the last of the separatist holdouts during the early years of the Empire. Whenever I viewed eyewitness testimony to your bravery the men and women always spoke in such hushed tones, a reverence that had once been reserved only for Jedi and the Mandalorians. But now..." she trailed off, they didn't need to be reminded of how maligned and dismissed they were since Endor. "How does the vaunted Vader's first lose to a bunch of primitives..they must ask" Miryia, almost shook her head, allowing a subtle shift in its posture and a look of contempt for the one doing the asking. "The main enemy of Ewoks are giants who dwarf your largest Walkers, Ewoks defeat them more oft than not..Anyone who dismisses that is a fool. Tell me Trooper, what was the mood the day of before the Emperor arrived and was Grand Admiral Declann with him?"

An odd question to be sure, but the woman was leading them to a point, some exchanged silent looks but it impressed her, none spoke up even if the topic was raw.

"He was ma'am. I spoke with Lord Vader prior to being sent to the Moon. However, he dismissed my concerns over the local population. It wasn't my place to question his orders." 

Yet here he was, speaking ill of his now deceased superiors. She could see it on his face though, frustration and just a bit of shame. She could tell that he knew it was a bad idea, yet he was forced to send his men in anyway or face punishment from Vader himself.

"And in the final battle, on the second day after the initial failed raid you proceeded to abandon all sense and fight like a bunch of crazed podracers on Spice am I correct?" She asked, her voice like iron, tugging on the lingering embers of the fires of infamy, though the force surrounded her she had no need to use it to amplify their emotions, or to arouse their intensity. A promise would soon be made that she had no intention of ever breaking with the Five Hundred and First. "Was Grand Admiral Declann ever seen during the entirety of the battle of Endor? Or was it solely Grand Admiral Teshik and high Admiral Piet?" The woman's voice grew harder, yet lost none of the colonial eloquence that Arkanian nobility were known for. "You fought stupidly, contrary to your nature? How much sleep have you lost since Endor wondering why you fought like senseless fools Trooper? Be candid with me"

Everything below the catwalk seemed to stop at once. The technicians stopped moving supplies arouns, soldiers stopped talking, and everyone's attention was fixated on their Captain and Myria. 

"My men have never been in worse shape. We haven't won a battle since Lord Vader died aboard the Death Star. They are tired, unmotivated, and directionless. Ma'am, with all due respect... we've been sent out here to die." 
Seems this Captain Cardinal was sharper than most. He knew the situation he was in, but had given up fighting. He was frustrated, but had nothing to vent that on.

Her eyes flashed this time, she let real emotion show, an intense fire that burned below the mask of the regal killer, one brimming with a warriors pride, with respect, with hard won experience and below that a madness that had devoured worlds. "That's because" her voice raised now, echoing like a crack of thunder over the slow ebbing silence. "You were under a spell!" she spat "Battle meditation, an ancient power invented by an order called the Bendu who with song could turn frightened farmers into unstoppable berserkers! Perfected by the Jedi it would turn the burning fires in the hearts of soldiers into a roaring inferno that made their minds sharper, their focus keener, their reflexes faster, it enhanced their tactical nous and reminded them that fear was a mere illusion! It was designed to inspire but Sith..cowardly drug addicts that they were perverted it into a profane art that slaved the minds of their soldiers, their admirals and their technicians. And your Emperor trusted a pathetic amateur like Declann to reinforce his powers over you! They took you, their finest warriors and made of you chattel! Fodder and they sent you against sentient devouring savages who fight behemoths as a past time and a horde of terrorists commanded by a drug runner turned revolutionary General..Men you should have crushed under foot! A fleet you should have broken!" her voice began to rise until at the last she shouted and let loose a shockwave through the force, designed to touch their hearts to show them that while she possessed this power..She would never disrespect them by using it upon them. "YOUR EMPEROR FAILED YOU AT ENDOR! NOT YOU! YOU WHO ARE CHAMPIONS OF ORDER!"

Miryia threw up a hand, her palm tore and dark purple blood began to trickle down her wrist "None of you know me, but I am Miryia Farlina of House Janus! Master of the Jedi Order, commander of the Expansion region fleets! The "butcher of Ziost!" "The breaker of Yavin 4" "The she wolf of Onderon!" now she began using the titles by which she suspected, many an academic student studying military tactics would have known. "I am the one who broke Mandalore the Unrelenting and ate the hearts of his sons! And I swear to you, in two centuries of warfare I never once insulted those I commanded by drugging them with common trickery! And I swear to you, by my own blood..By the force..together"
"We...Will..reclaim the honor of the Five Hundred and First.."

One of the younger female troopers sitting on a crate, stood up and raised her fist. "For the Empire!" She exclaimed, making all the Stormtroopers smile and chant the same phrase. Cardinal couldn't help but smile. So many weeks of decay and depression. For the first time, he saw his soldiers energized and ready for battle. But before he could say anything, Admiral Karius spoke through the ship's speakers. 

"Crew, be advised. We are about to enter Onderon space. Be prepared for potential resistance. Captain Cardinal. Miryia, prepare to land on the suface."

"For the Empire" Miryia allowed herself to whisper, joining in the chorus but leaving the majority of the zeal to her "men". As if compelled by fate it was Admiral Karius who spoke, his metallic voice announcing their entry into Onderonian space, here again after so long.  She held position, taking in every second of the cheering, of the roaring, taking in the fires, the growth in moral. -One heart at a time, soon, those Moffs shall be mine- her thoughts obscured behind a slight smile she adopted.

And as the cheers went down she was the first to walk towards the Hangar. "We will fly through atmosphere at maximum velocity and slow only when we're ontop of them. Enter hard, fast and we kill as few as possible. There is a relic, possibly Sith in manufacture. Leave that to me, let us buy ourselves as much time as possible. Let them bleed if we must, but I forbid any of you from dying, you are not regular army rabble or an ordinary Storm Trooper legion, you are Empire's fist"

with a wave of her hand several crates of munitions flew into the shuttle "Captain....Troopers, let us make haste"