Viceroy Lushros Dofine stared down the Imperial Govneor's hologram.

"With all do respect, govenor, you cannot raise the taxes again! I don't care how much of a threat the Rebel Alliance is, the people need this money! You might as well fund your Star Destroyers and Battlestations with our blood!"

Lushros was quite angered. His planets were occupied. His people enslaved. His cause destroyed. And now, the Imperials were undermining the Neimoidian economy!

"I can do whatever I want, Viceroy. I have the authority of the Emperor himself! Infact, for your insolence, I am raising the taxes 5 percent more than I planned, Viceroy! Good Day..."

Lushros smashed down where the Govenor last appeared. He flipped on his Communicator.

High Inquisitor Tiev Ralcheen's personal starfleet emerged from the void of hyperspace, into a desolate system dotted with several gas giants, as well as a few space stations.

Imperial Intelligence had received reports that the small Rebel fleet had been using the former Separatist facilities orbiting Siskeen as a supply base. Seizing the opportunity to please his Emperor, Inquisitor Ralcheen had ordered the Admiral of his fleet to prepare to jump to the Siskeen system immediately.

The Star Destroyer Glory of the Empire, aone of the first of its class, approached the orbiting facilities, where several Rebel ships were docked. Tiev took note of their class. Five Corellian corvettes, 2 Republic-era Dreadnaughts, and a captured Victory-I Star Destroyer.

"Admiral, open fire," he ordered. Turbolaser fire lit up the emptiness of space. Two Corellian corvettes were eliminated in a flash, caught off guard. X-wings and Y-wings emerged from the hangar bays of the other ships.

"Release starfighters," Tiev said. The Imperials' own TIE fighters rushed to engage the enemy. It would be only a few hours until the battle was over, and the Rebel forces were defeated.

The Admiral's hologram appeared before him. "Sir, we're taking fire from the Siskeen orbital facilities!" he said. "The Rebels have apparently brought the old Separatist defenses back online!"

"Commence primary ignition."
The eyes of Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin of Oversector Outer shined with a twisted evil as the eight beams united into a single, giant superlaser, the most powerful weapon ever constructed.

Space was suddenly lit up as the huge beam shot towards its target: the penal colony Despayre, where it had been constructed.

As the superlaser beam impacted, the planet exploded in a brilliant fireball, shooting chunks, perhaps entire continents, in numerous directions. The shockwave swept through the system, shaking the entire battle station.

Now, all that remained of the prison planet was an asteroid field and the very thing that had caused its doom. The superlaser worked!

"Congratulations, Your Highness." Chief Bast, Tarkin's personal aide, said.
"Thank you. With this weapon at our disposal, we will be able to crush the Rebellion once and for all."
Bast nodded, and they both studied the asteroid-littered space ahead of thed.
"What a glorious moment for the Empire." Tarkin added.

Suddenly, something on Bast's console beeped, and he said: "Your Highness, we have an imcoming call from Neimoidian Viceroy Dofine."
Tarkin sighed, "what will that slimy alien complain about this time?" Bast didn't answer, as it was a rhetorical question.
"Patch him through." Tarkin ordered.

The image of the Neimoidian appeared on the holoprojector ahead of them.
"Viceroy Dofine, what is so urgent that it needs to interrupt my work?"

Galvakar System, Outer Rim

The Galvakar System was one of those backwater colonies the Republic had established a few centuries ago, with a White Dwarf and six planets, of which only one, known as Nerf Point was habitable.
But these colonies had a bad tendancy to feel sympathy for the Rebels, and Imperial Intelligence believed that the Rebels had estblished a base in the system, which only saw an Imperial partol once or twice every year.

So when the Thundershield and its escort of six Imperial Star Destroyers arrived in-system, it was a surprise of shocking dimensions for the residents of Nerf Point.

From the bridge of the Thundershield, Admiral Giel watched Nerf Point grow in size as the immense battleship approached the planet.

"Attention, residents of Nerf Point: Your leaders have made a grave error deciding that supporting the Empire is a bad idea. Such insolence is unacceptable, and will be punished according to Imperial Law." He announced over all comm channels.
"Commence Base Delta Zero!" Giel ordered his crew

Brevet Commander Thrawn stood on the Admoniter's bridge and observed the four squadrons of prototype bombers exit the hangar bays of the Victory I-class Star destroyers Prestigious and Glory. They resembled bulky TIE Starfighters with their balloned Twin Ion Engines and oversized cockpits.

Thrawn spoke into the starfighter commander's channel. "Begin the test, Major."

"Yes, sir." The TIEs accelerated towards the surface of Saleucami and entered the atmosphere. Their ceramic plating began to melt, but it lasted long enough for the fighters to enter the planet's troposphere. Once they had reached visual contact for the old Separatist ruins, they banked to port and began their runs. Energy bombs fell from their chutes, reducing the abandoned structures to rubble.

Lieutenant Drumati, the second-in-command officer on board the Imperial flagship Devastator marched swiftly onto the bridge of the ship to approach the Captain, a grim man named Captain Whynn, flanked at all times by two white-armour-clad stormtroopers, their tones and expression incomprehensible due to the almost ghost-like helmets that they wore upon their heads. They walked down the aisle that acted like a bridge over the banks of computers and terminals which were run by the bridge crew and from which the Captain could order any neccessary alteration to the Destroyer's procedures from the bridge. There were roughly thirty or so uniformed men, aswell as several stormtroopers, dotted around the bridge, all of them either operating some kind of terminal or standing completely still, on guard duty. The Lieutenant, though his composure seemed to be one of a decided coolness and of no real urgency, was in fact very nervous as he approached the Captain and delivered a swift salute to acknowledge the superior officer's authority. The Captain nodded his head in response, before asking,

"What is it, Drumati?"

The Lieutenant took a deep breath, before replying with, "Sir, he has arrived."

Captain Whynn's facial expression changed almost instantly from one of a grim disposition to the same expression usually worn by people about to perform a show in front of thousands of people and they have stage-fright. His upper lip twitched slightly, and this was made obviously by his large bushy grey moustache beginning to tremble rather violently. Worried that the Captain was being made a little too uncomfortable, the Lieutenant asked the superior officer if he should attempt to delay him from coming to the bridge, and offered to the make an excuse on the Captain's behalf. Upon hearing such a suggestion, the Captain shook his right hand rather vigorously and dismissively, stating almost eratically as he did so,

"No, Lieutenant! Do not do that! I do not want him to be offended in anyway! It is just his earlier-than-scheduled arrival has surprised me slightly."

"Indeed, sir." Drumati said to the Captain in response.

"Before you go and tell him to come to the bridge, Lieutenant," The Captain gave the grey-coloured but nonetheless busy bridge a quick sweep of his gaze to make sure none of the crew were listening, "You need to know how to approach and handle him. Apparenly the slightest mishap can end up with punishment. Capital punishment. I think I have made myself clear, Lieutenant?"

Drumati, having raised his eyebrows slightly at the Captain's words, nonetheless nodded to show that he was aware of what it meant to upset him and allowed the Captain to continue,

"Do whatever he asks without question," Whynn was now saying to the Lieutenant, "Do not even think of questioning the order, other officers claim he has some way of reading thoughts. That may be a myth but I don't think either of us wish to take that risk, especially after what happened to Yuri."

Captain Yuri had been the Devastator's commanding officer prior to Whynn's promotion. Yuri had reportedly been killed for 'neglect of duty' by him, and Whynn, who had been the Lieutenant of the ship at the time, was not willing to follow in the footsteps of his predecessor. After he had given the Lieutenant a few more 'pointers' on how to deal with him, he dismissed his second-in-command with a short nod of the head and a swift salute. Returning the salute, Drumati turned to leave the bridge and make his way down to the hangar and greet the Devastator's latest guest. However, before he had turned round fully he froze as his gaze fell upon the blast doors that served as the only way in and out of the bridge. Captain Whynn, seeing only his Lieutenant suddenley stop, asked sternly,

"What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? Get down there and greet ----"

The Captain's gaze had just fallen upon the door aswell, and he too froze like his second-in-command. The entire bridge crew, in fact, fell deathly silent as they all stopped what they were doing and looked towards the blast doors, which were open but still did not allow any light onto the bridge as there was a large shadow-like shapy silhouetted against the beams of light that were trying to gain entrance. As Lieutenant Drumati's lower lip trembled, Captain Whynn finished his sentence with a slightly more negative tone,

"---Lord Vader!"

The large bulky shadow stepped forward, and an deep metallic breathing echoed throughout the tightly-packed bridge, and the figure looked either side of him, as if surveying the area. Eventually its 'gaze' fell upon and remained upon Captain Whynn, and it took another step forward, revealing a jet-black helmet and a louder sense of the deep breathing. As Captain Whynn stuttered to say something, the figure, tall as a Wookie and as black as space itself, wrapped in a dark black cloak, raised a hand and a powerful voice echoed out from behind the helmet.

"I hope you were prepared for my arrival, Captain."

"They’re not responding Captain."

Lorth Needa sighed and strode to the very foremost part of the bridge, and for a few minutes watched the unidentified convoy carefully. Its apparent lack of cargo and refusal to respond to the Swiftsure’s demands screamed Rebel to him. He sighed and turned to his second in command.

"Contact the Hotspur. They will activate gravity well generators immediately."
"As you wish, Captain."
"Once that is done, set about disabling those corvettes."
"Yes, sir."

The commander saluted and began barking orders. Needa smiled as the convoy, realising that the Hotspur’s presence made jumping to hyperspace impossible, began to make a run for it. Needa nodded to the commander, and the Swiftsure gave chase.

The whole affair, he mused, as the four little corvettes struggled to escape the huge star destroyer, was decidedly one-sided. The whole action was ridiculous really. It was, he concluded, comparable to trying to stamp on a beetle with a walker. It was not something Needa was actually in a position to know about, he reminded himself, but then again since when was first-hand experience necessary to the composition of what he felt to be a rather catchy metaphore. As the first disabled corvette was tractored into the hangar bay, Needa turned to the young lieutenant stood beside him.

"Lieutenant, prepare your men. You will be boarding the first corvette presently."
"As you wish, sir."
"Needless to say, your priorities are their logs and cargo. And please try take the crew alive. I have no desire to take lives without good cause."
"Yes, sir."

Needa watched the man leave then turned his attention back to the now helpless convoy. After a few tense minutes an officer approached him.

"Oh, I am interrupting your work, am I? Well, YOUR work is interrupting OUR lives! You puppet govenor raised our taxes yet again. He demanded a five percent more, then increased it to ten because of my protests!"

Lushros fumed. He hated the Empire. This was exactly what the Seperatists fought to prevent.

"I urge you to reduce our taxes. Our economy is in the gutter, and there is unrest in the Neimoidian system. Didn't you take enough when you signed away the Trade Federation's assets and wealth?"

At first, it was hard for Tarkin to believe what he'd just heard: the Neimoidians were complaining over too high taxes to a Grand Moff, and not even the one responsible for that Oversector!

"The Empire is not some stupid array of bureacrats, we set the taxes exactly as we like it, especially with treacherous scum like you who once fought for total anarchy. I will not any more of your whining, shut your mouth and pray for that I will not report this to the Emperor, as I know he will be very displeased." He then severed the connection.

Today he was taking his T-16 out to Beggar's Canyon to hunt Womp Rats. He slipped silently into his clothes and snuck into the kitchen to get himself a glass or juma juice. He got all the way out to the garage without disturbing a soul. He buckled his toolbelt around his waist and climbed into his T-16 and went through the pre-flight checks before priming the engines.

"LUKE! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?" Even over the whine of the engines the voice of Owen Lars cut into him. Luke groaned and shut down the engine.
"I was going into Tosche Station to pick up some power convertors," Luke said, hoping his uncle wouldn't see through his lie.
"In a Skyhopper? I don't think so Luke. The alarm on number thirteen went off last night and I want you to go check it out."
"But..."
"No buts, Luke. You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done."
"What friends," Luke muttered, "they're all gone. Same as what I should be."
"We talked about this Luke, we said next year, after the harvest."
"Yeah, you said the same thing last year. I'll be at retirement age before you let me leave."
"It's for your own good, Luke," called his uncle, straining to make himself heard over the roar of the now-started landspeeder engine.
"Yeah, so you keep saying," muttered Luke, keeping his voice down so as not to be heard. The landspeeder shot out of the garage, disturbing a couple of Jawas who had come to speak with his uncle. Luke gunned the engine, pushing them up to a few degrees shy of redline on the dial. He kept a sharp eye on what was going on around him, looking out for sand people or worse. Once or twice he thought about going back, when he could feel someone watching him, but he pressed on. The desire to get to Beggar's Canyon was overruling his common sense.

He managed to get out to the vaporator unmolested, which was more than he could say for the machine itself. It was now nothing more than a twisted pile of smoking metal with some sort or writing scrawled on it. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, like someone was watching him again. He raced back to the speeder and got out his electrobinoculars, scanning the horizon.

Lushros couldn't believe Tarkin's insolence.

A man sat in a cantina. The usual place, with its sign uselessly proclaiming ``no blasters`` in basic and a dozen other languages, and its barkeep nearly spit-polishing the glasses. Backwards though it was, the man could not help but enjoy it. It brought him back to a simpler time which he enjoyed, before the hustle and bustle of the core worlds. But it was not the time for that. He got up and strode to the bar, and suddenly collapsed in a wave of anguish. Death was talking to him. He almost writhed in pain, if only for a split moment, but in that moment a drink was spilled, and somebody wanted to spill some blood in return. A blaster was drawn once again, despite the poor sign`s obvious protestation, and a sudden flash... and then it was on the ground. Blaster still in hand, hand still on the arm, arm still on body, but the body was on the floor. Eir had no time for such annoyances, he now knew he had a duty to fulfill.

Tarkin was studying a map of the Galaxy when Admiral Giel arrived.

"How can I serve you, Your Highness?" Giel was always polite, and his loyalty had never been in question. The perfect Imperial officer.
"The Rebellion is spreading anarchistic thoughts amongst our worlds. I have just finished a conversation with the Neimoidian Viceroy, who complained about taxes. This must be dealt with. Neimoidia must learn a lesson about loyalty. I want you to take your fleet to Cato Neimoidia and show them who is control. Crack open their vaults and take everything, then level the cities. That will teach them."
"Yes, Your Highness. Am I to proceed immediately?"
"Indeed."
"As you wish, Your Highness." Giel said, and then left the room.

Supreme Commander Daulu Donei stared out into the faces of the crowd.

He was on Cato Neimoidia to give a speech to the Gunnery Battalion Academy there. Neimoidia need boosts of morale frequently, and public speeches usually did the trick.

The other reason he was here was to meet with Home Defense and Gunnery Battalion leaders stationed on Cato Neimoidia.

The rebellion's leaders were all divided up equally and sent to the four different Neimoidia's, as where their soldiers.

This was a needed precaution incase the Empire went on a Witch Hunt...

Daulu started his speech

Giel's full fleet, the Thundershield and 12 Imperial Star Destroyers plus scores of smaller ships, dropped out of Hyperspace in formation above the Neimoidian purse world.

The defense force, a small ragtag collection of what antiquated vessels the Neimoidians had been able to put together, had a corvette in patrol just ahead of Giel's fleet. It was vaporized instantly.

"This is Imperial Admiral Giel. Your beloved Viceroy has made the mistake of defying the Empire, and you must pay for his actions. Stand down your weapons or prepare to get utterly eliminated." Giel boomed over alle channels.

Menawhile, landing craft were being prepared in the hangars, ready to drop when the orbital defense had been neutralized.

Facing thirteen massive warships, many vessels turn tail, but a group of ships, led by an old Geonosian Dreadnaught and a pair of old TF Missile Frigates, started acceelerating towards Giel's fleet. He wondered how big the defense force really was. He was sure they had hid some more old CIS equipment.

Serveral of the Thundershield's main cannons, artillery heavier than any other ship-mounted weapons beside the Death Star's main armamant, opened fire, sending a wave of massive bolts of destructive energy at the Neimoidians, pulverizing an entire squadron of small and fragile starfighters.

Needa glared at Lieutenant Colne. "What did you say?"
"We have retrieved several crates of weapons from the Azure Wave, Captain."
"As I suspected, then. This is a Rebel convoy."
"Not just that sir. I think you ought to see this."

The Lieutenant beckoned and led Needa aboard the captured corvette. Needa looked around. The ship was swarming with Imperial officers, stormtroopers and scanning crews. He turned to Colne. "Well?"
"In here, sir."
"This room?"
"Yes, sir. Mind the floor, though."

Needa stepped gingerly into the room. A group of technicians had removed the floor. Beneath were ten sealed crates. Needa turned to Colne. "What's in them?"
"We're not sure. We're trying to cut them open now."
"Then hurry up, for goodness' sake."

A technician leapt up. "Aha!"
"What?"
"We're in, Captain!" The technician grabbed a tool and, with some considerable effort, began to prize the lid off one of the crates. Needa watched intently. Colne stepped swiftly through as the lid flew off and looked inside.

"Sir..."
"What is it?" Needa demanded, slightly on edge. Colne turned around, a weapon in his hands. Needa glanced at it.
"It's Imperial."
"Yes, sir. Twenty more of them in this crate, sir."

"Lord Vader, it is an honour to have you with us on board ----" Captain Whynn's attempt at currying favour with the Dark Lord of the Sith were cut miserably short by the tall imposing figure raising a gloved hand, demanding silence.

"Spare me your attempts at flattery, Captain," Vader stated simply, making it clear it was an order and not a request, "I have no desire to be here other than to dismiss you of overall command of this vessel. I am in charge now Captain."

Though visibly shaken, the Captain was true to the doctrine he had set Lieutenant Drumati to follow when dealing with Vader, and he immediately nodded his head in compliance, before taking several steps to the side to allow Vader to pass by and make his way to the fore of the bridge, to look out of the large view-shield and out into open space. After a few long silent moments, Lieutenant Drumati cleared his throat and asked of Vader in his best polite and formal voice,

"Lord Vader, may I inquire as to what our present course is to be altered to?"

"Yes, Lieutenant, you may," Came the metallic-like voice of the Sith Lord as he turned to face the officer, "We are to set about on a course leading us through many suspected Rebel hives, and crush any traces of the Alliance that we find among them. Is that clear with you Lieutenant?"

"Transparently, my Lord." The Lieutenant replied somewhat shakily.

Before either Lieutenant Drumati, Captain Whynn or Darth Vader himself could say anymore, the communications officer of the bridge piped up and called out to all three of them in a slightly high-pitched, but also excited, voice,

"Captain Whynn, Neimodia has come under siege from an unscheduled Imperial garrison force. They were sending out distress signals."

"Patch us through to the commanding officer." Darth Vader ordered before Whynn could consider responding, "I was not made aware of any large offensives being deployed, and I wish to know why."

"Yes Lord Vader. We also have an incoming transmission from Captain Needa for you, Lord Vader."

"Very well I shall accept the transmission here on the bridge. However, I expect you to have the commanding officer of the forces at Neimodia ready for discussion with me as soon as I am done with this...Needa." Vader's reply was as cold as the helmet he wore.

"Of course Lord Vader."

Turning to the large view-screen, the Dark Lord of the Sith looked up at the image of an Imperial officer, presumably Captain Needa, and asked coldly,

"What is it, Captain?"

"Viceroy, we are under attack!" Yelled one of Dofine's aides.

"What? What is going on?" Asked Lushros.

"The Empire has sent a fleet of thirteen ships to Cato Neimoidia because of your complaints. Several ships are already destroyed, and others are routing. We are slowing them down, though."

Lushros couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Ready all the ships we have."

Several CIS ships were hidden in a Nebula near Neimoidia. Several Providence Destroyers, Lucrehulks and Geonosian Dreadnaughts were left over from the Clone Wars, and Lushros had kept them for just this situation.

"Give me a channel to all Neimoidian cities and forces." Commanded Lushros

"Your on, Viceroy."

"This is Viceroy Lushros Dofine to all Neimoidian citizens. Cato Neimoidia has come under attack by the Empire. All forces have my permission to engage. We cannot let our race die under the Empire's opression!"

Lushros cut the channel.

"I want every single Gunnery Battalion and Home Defense soldier to take up a defense against the Imperials. Pull all our men from Deko and Koru, but leave a small garrsion to defend the capital on Neimoidia."