[h3][center][b]Committee for the Continuation of the New Order - Ciutric District - Ciutric IV[/b][/center][/h3]
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The city of Daplona had once held a somewhat idyllic air about her. At least compared to the hustle and bustle of the Core Worlds. It had once been a favorite holiday destination for Imperial officials. And before that, it was highly popular in the Old Republic. A quaint enclave of humanity in the alien savagery of the Outer Rim, it certainly had its appeal among the followers of the New Order.

Jadal Thrax had never cared much about that. But when the Emperor died and the entire edifice he had built crumbled around his still cooling corpse, the Grand Admiral had found himself stuck there. It was supposed to be a short stop to resupply and refit before Fleet Group Thrax continued its campaign of terror through the Outer Rim.

Weeks of inactivity followed as Thrax surrendered himself to despair and hopelessness. The Emperor dead, the Starfleet humiliated once again, years of investment crashing down upon the Forest Moon and so many of his comrades in arms dying for nothing. And as the Rebel Alliance took the offensive and any semblance of central authority disappeared, Thrax had come close to simply giving up entirely

Fortunately, that did not happen. And the Grand Admiral, shamed by his earlier defeatist attitude, threw himself body, mind and soul into the crusade to save the New Order.  The city of Daplona was but one of the results of these efforts. 

Estates and palaces had been torn down and replaced with military compounds and installations. Entire neighborhoods torn down to make way for expanding factories. Parks, recreation centers and stadiums were seized and repurposed for COMPNOR’s purposes. An active night life of revelry and mindlessness was replaced by blockades and checkpoints. COMPForce an ever present sight as holoscreens that once blared ads and inane media now broadcasted only the messages of the Committee. And in the outskirts, the forests and rolling fields that had existed since the colony’s early days had been transformed. Labor camps and mass graves for the undesirables. Every single gram of raw material, whether it be wood, ore or wheat, that could be harnessed from the land would be. The Committee required nothing less than the total subservience of every single living being under its control and the complete exploitation of every single asset under its control.

And within the bowels of a fortress built above the ruins of a palatial estate that had once belonged to the Pestage clan, sat the main driving force behind this mad, all consuming drive.

The Grand Admiral’s quarters were large, but spartan in nature. Utterly utilitarian they were sorely lacking in the common comforts expected from the Imperial High Command. Save for the expansive and advanced workshop that Jadal Thrax used for the maintenance of his extensive cybernetics and a few scattered cabinets and bookcases, one could mistake the room for one of the communal barracks. Even the walls were also covered in propaganda posters while a large portrait of Palpatine triumphant hung above the doorway.

It was as much of a conscious choice as a personal preference. There were precious few comforts allowed to those under C-CNO’s gaze. And while the leeway increased with one’s rank within the Commitee’s hierarchy, the Grand Admiral had little taste for luxuries. 

He sat in a workstation placed in one of the room’s corners. Typing away furiously at the console. The day’s work was finished and in his blessedly few hours of leisure and so Jadal Thrax threw himself entirely upon his latest personal project. A new edition of [i]The Protocols of the Masters of Jedi[/i]. One of COMPNOR’s greatest works, penned by the late Ishin Il Raz himself in the early days of the New Order. It brought to light the corruption and treachery inherent within the Jedi Order and the full extent of their millennia-long conspiracy to take over the Galaxy.

Now, with the Galaxy the way it was and the Jedi seemingly making a comeback under the Rebellion’s banner. Jadal Thrax thought it important that he added his voice and ensured the Galaxy was properly warned about the danger posed by these rootless mystics and their vile secretive cult. And not only the Jedi, but Force worshiping cults in general. Vile fanatics one and all, the Galaxy will become a better place once it learns that the oh so high and mighty Force is but another tool, wielded for a greater cause and not for itself.

The table was covered in papers, datapads, pamphlets, reports and books. An unorganized mess that no one but Thrax would be able to work around. The Grand Admiral often got like that when in the throes of passion work.

Thrax was halfway through a fraying, moth eaten book about Gand Force traditions written in Old Neimoidian when the table’s communicator started beeping. Frowning, Thrax shoved a pile of datapads into the ground and took the call.

“Chairman Thrax here.” The robotic voice boomed.

“My Lord.” His secretary’s voice replied, sounding properly contrite. “Director Kazan and Commander Bayzin are here to see you. Th-”

“Send them in!” Thrax barked in irritation. If they were coming during his break, then they had something important to say. Or they better hope so, anyways.

The doors slid open and Director Urst Kazan strode in. White uniform spotless and red cape swishing behind as he greeted Thrax with a smile, waving a datapad above his head.

Commander Bayzin followed behind. Covered head to toe in shining nondescript black armor. Thrax noted with slight amusement she must have had worked on it on the return trip. The Commander snapped a sharp salute and remained standing at attention at a respectable distance while Kazan moved to Thrax.

“Commander here just returned from Yaga Minor. “ He grinned as he approached. “And she brings hopeful tidings.” He handed over the datapad to Thrax with a flourish and moved over behind the Grand Admiral.
Thrax wasted no time in giving a cursory glance to the report. Patrol routes, ship dispositions, garrison estimations and that was just the beginning. The Grand Admiral nodded slightly at the Director.

“Good work, Commander. You may stand at ease.”

“By the looks of it, they haven’t caught up yet to our mobilization.” Kazan said confidently. “But no point in wasting more time. This intel won’t be good for long and everyone else seems too busy with Coruscant right now. Can’t think of a better time to move than now,”

“I want you ready with a proper briefing two days from now. I will gather the relevant officers.” Thrax ordered, turning to look at the other man. ‘But yes, I believe it’s finally time.” With that he turned towards the Commander, still standing silently in the middle of the room. “You may begin you report, Commander.”

She nodded slightly, but as Bayzin was about to speak, Kazan’s own communicator went off. “Apologies.” The Director waved them off as he walked away for some privacy.. “It’s a priority call.”

The room remained silent for a beat. Thrax intently boring holes in the back of his old war comrade and Commander Bayzin silently waiting for her cue to continue. 

Another moment and Thrax was about to motion for her to go on with the report before Kazan turned abruptly and all but ran back to Thrax’s side.

“My people are telling me things are happening on Coruscant. You gotta take a look at this, Jad.”