Star Wars: Ascension

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Post by Emperor Cadamor on Sun Aug 25, 2019 7:46 pm

Star Wars: Ascension Star-Wars-Logo-edit-small
Star Wars: Ascension Title
Star Wars: Ascension Story

The galaxy has changed. After the BATTLE OF BAKURA, growing resentment towards the peacekeeping JEDI ORDER lead to their seclusion into the far corners of space, leaving The Galactic Alliance's power unstable in the Rim. After a series of wars between the agents of good and their dark adversaries, the SITH, the people of the galaxy begin hunting down all disciples of the Force during the GREAT INQUISITION. By its end, both the Jedi and Sith were on the edge of extinction with their few remaining followers in hiding across the galaxy. The Galactic Alliance tried to stabilize a fragile galaxy, but unable to hold any presence beyond the Inner Rim, the NEW GALACTIC EMPIRE begins to grow on the edges of space.

Despite their strained forces, the Galactic Alliance kept galactic peace for two decades, primarily through the support of the Hapes Consortium and Corellian forces. Their greatest adversary remained hidden in the Outer Rim, slowly rebuilding. After staging an uprising in the Raioballo Sector, an Imperial strike force from Geonosis invaded Ryloth, openly declaring war against the Galactic Alliance. After their blockade withstands a swift counterattack, the Empire begins rapidly expanding in the Arkanis Sector. As Corellia declares its independence, the Galactic Alliance is forced into a stalemate along the Corellian Run.

Hidden on the frozen world of Zian, veteran Jedi CAIN ISOLDER creates the New Jedi Order to protect the force-using exiles being drawn to the planet. Unsure of his choice to alert the galaxy of their presence, Grandmaster Isolder feared the return of the Sith and sensed the growing threat of the Dark Side. Far on wild world of ANGKOR the Sith are reborn on the fringes of space by the new Dark Lord of the Sith, Emperor Cadamor on his homeworld. As the galaxy awaited their conflict, the new Grandmaster and Lord of the Sith met on a neutral space station and formed a surprising peace treaty between the orders. With a fragile peace, both the Jedi and Sith are reborn.

In the depths of Imperial Space, a massive Star Destroyer secretly travels to a fortress prison near the storm world Kamino called THE IRON PIKE....

200 ABY

Far out on the edges of the galaxy, the Imperial Star Destroyer Diamondback floated in the shadow of the second moon of Kamino. It’s impressive silhouette rested high above the world, an icon of a time now long ago. It had been in service for centuries, it’s dull grey hull now dark black, charred, and scorched and when soldiers looked at it, they knew it’s burns marked the battles of the galaxy stretching all the way back to the Galactic Civil War. The warship had served the Imperial Remnant vallently during their conquests and campaigns, but then was turned into a peacekeeping vessel under the Galactic Triumvirate. Now it served the Empire once again, on the eve of it’s resurrection.

“Preparing to jump to hyperspace in 30 seconds.” The First Officer said. The bridge was quiet, only the sounds of computers and terminals softly beeping as they prepared the ship’s systems. Officers moved through the stations, quickly activating stealth systems and initiating long-range scans.

“Alert all stations.” The man at the bridge’s center responded through the quiet. The Star Destroyer no longer had the same grey bridge and corridor leading to the main deck, but glossy black walkways with glowing white and red lights running along its sleek edges. Before rejoining service two years ago, the Diamondback had been completely gutted and equipped with state-of-the-art equipment, including a prototype light stealth system.

“All stations give a green light.”

“On your command, my lord.” The First Officer said.

Imperial Moff Silas Raan pressed his hands behind his back as he looked out the viewport, proud of the efficiency of his crew. He had dutifully collected some of the brightest minds to serve onboard the Diamondback and had used the decades of isolation to shape them into a dangerous weapon for the Empire. After the ruthless effectiveness of the Empire during the galaxy-wide Inquisition of Jedi and Sith, many of the young and skilled in the galaxy joined their side, ready to take back control from the diseased Galactic Alliance. Many of his officers had joined Silas during that time and he remembered how tangible the excitement on the bridge was. But the next twenty years became ones of cautious regrowth, their Empire tucked away in small holdings along the Outer Rim. His recruits grew bored, but Silas knew that they had also grown experienced in this time. Now they knew the ships better than their home worlds, they learned discipline, and they had learned what it meant to be an Imperial. As their forces begun attacks and invasions of independent worlds pressing up to the Alliance, the fire was growing inside them once again and they would soon learn what it meant to be an Empire

“Engage.” Silas commanded. The crew activated their terminals and soon the large viewscreen on the bridge turned to blue-white light overtaking the ship. No one bothered securing themselves. The light speed jump would end almost as soon as it begun. Their destination was close, but travel there was dangerous if done hastily. Silas turned on his heels, moving to the captain’s chair. He was dressed in a formal grey-brown uniform, slim black metal pauldrons on his shoulders and knee high leather boots. His years of service were clear in the grey-white streaks above his ears in his dark hair, his green eyes moving down to his personal terminal. He checked their navcomputer vector once again to reassure himself.

Reality crept back as the Star Destroyer lurched into real space. Silas gave a small sigh of relief before he activated a feed on the viewscreen and magnified it on something floating far ahead. The Diamondback repositioned as it moved towards the object, a huge space station floating along the edges of a blue-orange nebula. A spire in space, the station was a huge grey and white tower. Even without readings, he could locate twenty large anti-armor accelerator defenses and a handful of distruper turrets.

“Sir,” A gentle voice said over his shoulder. Officer Grendi, a thin humanoid man with tribal brandings on his neck. “Over half of the emplacements are positioned towards the space station?”

“They’re more afraid of what will get out.” The First Officer said.

“Welcome to The Iron Pike.” Silas said as he stood.

“Used to be where the Jedi would end up” Another officer spoke up. “It’s where the Empire hides it’s most dangerous.”

Moff Raan liked his crew being well-informed, but there was a great deal more about The Iron Pike than he should reveal. It was one of the most well-guarded secrets of the New Galactic Empire. Carefully placed gravity wells made Kamino the only access point to The Iron Pike and if a ship approached from outside the carefully guarded hyperlane coordinates, they were pulled back into real space by reinforced gravity wells and will find themselves trapped in an asteroid field littered with mines. When The Iron Pike was constructed, the numerous Imperial forces guarding Kamino would quickly descend on any trespassers. With Kamino’s empty cloning facilities no longer a vital resource to the Empire, it’s defenses were left minimal and the planet near deserted, save for its native populace. Some defense stations and turrets remain, remnants of the last Imperial attempt for galactic conquest.

“Intiatiate docking procedures and open a hailing frequency.” Silas ordered. “Begin preparing the prisoner.” A squad of white-armored Stormtroopers turned from the bridge and exited through durasteel doors.

“Imperial Star Destroyer,” A voice came across the holo-comm. “You’ve entered Imperial Security Bureau space. Transmit clearance codes and identity yourself.”

“Activate visuals.” Silas said to one of the officers. A young woman in the dark ISB uniform appeared in a blue-white transmission in front of him. “This is Imperial Star Destroyer Diamondback of the New Galactic Empire. I am Imperial Moff Raan of the Bothawui Sector. We’re sending over all the proper procedures for prisoner transfer.”

“...affirmative.” The woman said. She paused, looking over the transmitted data. “You are cleared for approach.” Then the woman ducked out of sight for a long moment. The officers looked at one another as they waited, Silas keeping his gaze directed ahead. “Position your vessel in sector C9 and direct all shuttles to hanger one.” The ISB agent said when she returned.

Silas gave a firm nod and the hologram winked out. “Lichen,” He turned to his First Officer. “The bridge belongs to you while I coordinate our drop off.”

“Very good, sir.”

Silas moved to exit the bridge, meeting up with stormtrooper squad as they moved to the shuttle. They warned him not to engage with the prisoner, so he stayed down in the cockpit.

“Pleasure to fly with you, sir.” The pilot said. Silas looked down, seeing a blue-green Rodian in a black pilot jumpsuit looking up with huge black eyes. Silas gave him a nod and a quick smile. As drawing closer to the station, Silas was reminded of it’s sheer momentous size. Twin curved blades outstretched on either side of the top, their glossy surface reflecting the beautiful nebula as four TIE fighters came flying past to lead them into a large opening at the base of complex.

The hanger was large, six shuttles and approximately three dozen starfighters lined on either side. A column of soldiers in bright white armor and crisp black uniforms made a large welcoming procession as their shuttle settled to the ground. Silas tugged on his jacket, pressed his medals along his chest and moved towards the bay doors.

As the loading ramp descended, Silas walked behind the stormtrooper squad as they approached a lone figure awaiting them. Pale grey eyes and silver-grey fur, the Bothan was thin-framed and lanky but stood like his spine was made of durasteel.

“Greetings, Moff Raan.” The alien said.

“Inspector Miccoff.” Silas replied with dry courtesy.

“It has been too long, my friend.” The ISB agent smiled, it’s fangs showing from the side of its mouth. “I apologize that our hospitality may be less than adequate for Imperial Moff standards.”

“Your facility is impressive.” Silas said as the pair began to fall in behind the stormtroopers.

“It is.” The ISB agent halted for a moment as a young human officer approached with a small datapad. The agent took it, looking it over for a long moment. “We’re also busy, for that I apologize. We're playing host to the Zeltron emissary from the Core. Prince Jun’du’mar is being released after fourteen weeks of detainment. They are treating it like a planetary holiday.”

“Insular thinking has always been a trademark of…” Silas stopped himself as he looked at the alien. “Zeltrons.” Miccoff looked at him for a moment, likely reading into the pause. “I don’t wish to intrude in your duties. I will be gone soon enough.”

“Your prisoner will be processed through Cellblock 23, you can watch through the Observation Platform on the fifteenth floor.” Miccoff handed back the datapad and the young officer walked away with it. “Would you like an escort?”

“I do.” Silas said. “But did you really expect me to travel here for a prisoner drop off?” The Bothans eyes narrowed, carefully looking over the Moff.

“I’ve heard reports that Captain Jerric was one of the loudest voices against your Bothan initiative.” Silas noticed a spark barely visible in the alien’s eyes. “I assumed there was a certain sense of satisfaction for you.” Silas smiled. The pair moved out into the hallway, crowds of soldiers and pilots moving hasty past them. From his pocket, Silas retrieved a small metal cylinder and carefully palming it, he handed it over to Miccoff who slid it into his own pocket. Silas kept his eyes in a steel gaze. Although he was responsible for freeing Bothan space from Galactic Alliance control and it’s grip of the Spynet, he was not foolish enough to ignore that his methods had not won him many allies on the worlds he now controlled.

“Follow me.” The Bothan began walking briskly past the crowds. As Silas walked, he kept his eyes on a large group of the red-skinned Zeltrons dressed in a vast swath of silk robes and huddled together. As Silas passed, the aliens kept their gazes carefully on him and spoke together in hushed voices.

As they passed through the first checkpoint, Silas’ eyes looked ahead and saw another security stop less than twenty feet ahead. Each station was manned by four to six stormtroopers and a single officer, each soldier with optimized E-11 blaster rifles in hand. As they scanned Miccoff, Silas drifted his gaze towards the ceiling at the circular black and white disks set every couple feet. These gravity dampeners were a large reason for the complex’s elite security, reformatted from ray shield technology and placed throughout the space station, they allowed station control to instantly freeze any escaping prisoners in place until they can be retrieved. The stormtroopers waved Miccoff along before beginning to scan Silas.

Once they had made their way through the checkpoints, the Imperial pair entered a small room near the main officer holding area. It appeared to be an office, though Silas was quick to note the display of the terminal had the incorrect date. It wasn’t occupied, if it ever had been. A small circular holotable was surrounded by red chairs and glossy white tables as Miccoff approached and retrieved the disk Silas had given him. The screen activated and began scanning as the Bothan took a seat.

“And so, what did Captain Jerric do that finally ensnared him in your trap?”

“Nothing.” Silas responded, looking carefully at the fruit on the tables until he picked up a muja. “Stagnation is death in the Empire. And records from his office indicated numerous payments across the HoloNet to his account, payments originating from Hutt Cartels.”

“Presumably the same cartels you have struck deals with in the past month.” Miccoff asked and Silas only smiled. “You’ve sentenced a man to a lifetime in my prison. For what? Theatrics.”


“You know how this works.” Miccoff said with a smile, showing his fangs once again. It was a barely hidden secret that the ISB had become the most corrupt group of the New Galactic Empire. Their influence through the decades and judicial preference gave them a wide range of power which they held onto loosely. Miccoff was used to dealing with Admirals and military leaders pretending to be Warlords. They could offer money, supplies, and support for the prison. But with the Empire confined to their small section of mostly backwater worlds, Silas had found himself flush with the most valuable currency: information.

The image on the holotable blinked and a young, light haired human woman’s image began floating in front of them. Silas carefully examined the image as her personal record began to scroll: Venix Crin, human bounty hunter from the Inner Rim, specialized in infiltration and top-level assination, with a list of crimes scrolling for nearly a full minute.

“What was she convicted for?” Silas asked. There was a certain level of leniency the Empire would give to those that supported their cause, regardless of their method. He assumed someone with as valuable assets and skills as her must have accepted a contract that undermined the Imperial mandate.

“I’ll be happy to explain,” Miccoff activated a large red button on the table and Venix’s image disappeared, “once paid. You’re not the only interested party.” The image blinked out. Silas took a step towards the table, activating a small data storage unit tucked behind the sleeve of his uniform. The holotable light changed to red and holographic technical readouts and transmission logs started scrolling towards the ceiling.

“Transmissions from Corellia.” Silas said, assured the planet would gain his interest. “With the contest between the Alliance and Imperials, transporting delicate cargo has become difficult. We’ve intercepted reports that existing local resistance fighters are looking for armaments and a contingent of Black Sun operatives are looking for reliable transportation routes.” The transmission disappeared again. “Sell the information. It won’t be hard and it will make your officers at the ISB happy.”

Miccoff stayed quiet for a long moment. Silas could hear footsteps pass out the hall and the datapad in the corner rhythmically beep. A part of Silas wanted to sneer. The Bothan might as well have been pouting. He gritted his teeth, hoping they would move forward quickly.

“Information about Corellia is valuable.” Miccoff finally said. “But you’re talking about smugglers and bounty hunters. You could have given this to any field agent. And they would have paid you in credits. You came to The Iron Pike with a very specific reward in mind.”

“Which is why there are also repair logs attached to the data.” Silas took a bite of the tart fruit. “From Kuat Drive Yards.”

“And how are they relevant to Corellia?”

“They aren’t. Though I believe the ISB would find them very rewarding.” Silas smiles. “They detail several work orders done for Imperial held facilities: large equipment orders, mineral shipments, and a lot of travel expenses.”

“The Kuat families declared themselves neutral. They won’t build for the Empire or Alliance.”

“They aren’t building new ships. They’re refitting old Imperial ships. A weak technicality to be sure, but it has worked for them so far.”

“That information could be very valuable.”

“To many different parties.” They both smiled at each other and Silas took a moment to wonder what it would be like if he had fangs that showed too. They sat in silence for a moment, their eyes locked.

“You’ve been a good friend to the ISB.” Miccoff said as he outstretched his hands. “But what’s really been making my bosses worried are the Mandolorians.”

“Because they’re not idiots.”

“You don’t work for them.” Miccoff said. “Very little information escapes Mandalorian space and what does is alarming.” Silas stares at the Bothan. He had to keep his lips from twisting.

“The new Mandalore was selected. There has been a lot of chatter coming from along the Hydian Way since.”

“How much does Bothawui know about the new leader?”

“Not enough.” Silas stood, his legs were restless. “Former mercenary. Lead an elite squad called The Iron Legion, an all Mandalorian task force from the Galactic Inquisition. Appears to have reclaimed the Mandalorian mask and has been calling clans back to the world.”

“Preparing to attack the Galactic Alliance?” The Bothan carefully eyed him.


“Why else create a cease-fire with the Sith?” He had been awaiting this question. Almost every person of power had been briefed on the news of this treaty when it occurred the week before. Every corner of the galaxy was speculating, but no one knew the real answer yet. “You don’t make treaties like that without a battle plan in mind.”

“But the Empire would be a far more suitable ally in that fight.” Silas responded. “The Sith have isolated themselves on the far side of Imperial space, blocking themselves from any aggressive expansion.”

“Why align yourself with them then? The Sith must have something that benefits the Mandolorians. Their precious Force is not the power it once was. It must be nothing more than a scare tactic then.”

“Unless they have a new target.” Silas said. “The Jedi.”

“Despite what Galak Eriuda says, an attack on the Jedi would result in retaliation from the Alliance.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve gone to war simply because they could. Not even with the Jedi.”

“The Jedi retreated. They’re not the warriors they once were.”

“Yet look at their leader.”

“They’re a splinter cell hidden in the fringes. Why provoke them?”

“It gives you a powerful ally, near the New Galactic Empire.” Miccoff shifted, clearly not liking the idea of the Mandolorians staging themselves against the Empire. Neither did Silas, though he knew the Sith presented just as real of a threat. ”Sends a pretty clear signal to the Jedi whose side you’re on.”

“The Mandolorian will either remain docile on Mandalore or attack the Alliance.” Miccoff stood. “But, your information will surely leave my superiors happy.” His fangs showed once again. “What about me?”

“Once I have my payment.” Silas said. They stared at each other for a long moment, until the tension was broken by the Bothans laugh.

“Then let’s find your reward.” The Bothan lead them out the door, back into the busy hallway. Silas could hear radio calls happening at the far side of the hanger, as Security Bureau officers moved into position. The pair walked in the opposite direction, moving further into the facility.

Five floors below, they entered a long grey-white walkway with large doors lining both sides seemingly forever. Two groups of three patrolled the walkway, Silas clearly saw the glossy black armor designated them as Death Troopers. Miccoff stopped them in front of door, moving a datachip into a slot. The doors slide open into a brightly lit blue cell with bright white lights across the ceiling.

Inside the room, a bright face human woman on the cot rested in the corner. Silas walked in as she turned, blonde hair spilling from her shoulder. The Echani appeared entirely human in every way, except for her silver blue eyes.

“Father?” Her voice was light, calming still after all this time. This was certainly not in Miccoff’s reports, based on the Bothan’s reaction.

“I hope you are well, Venix.” Silas smiled as he pressed his hands behind his back. She sat up, blue and white robes reaching the floor.

“Well and able. Assuming you have my fees.”

“Good.” Silas smiled between the pair. “I believe we are all due payment soon enough.”

“We taking this with us?” Venix said as she looked at Miccoff. Silas sighed. From the long list of Venix’s impressive skills, she still lacked the subtlety he needed for this next mission. The Bothan sneered before giving a half-smile.

“You’re not coming with me. I’ve arranged a deal with the Zeltrons.” Silas said, turning on his heels to lead the party back into the station. Venix was quick on his heels, and after a moment he heard the Bothan moving behind. “Passage to The Wheel, where I have arranged transport to the Core. Prince Jun’du’mar will ensure luxurious travel arrangements, I’m assured.”

“The Core is pretty damn big.” Venix said. “Unless you’ve a specific location in mind, I may need to ship to get around. Come to think of it, I need a ship either way.”

“I have arranged…”

“Make it a fast one.” Venix said. The Moff gritted his teeth as they began to approach the first station. As Miccoff approach, he swiped a data card alongside the wall. Silas casually stretched his neck, catching a glance at the terminal behind the guard station.


Inspector Miccoff had many uses for the Imperial mission, but his ability to redirect and inconspicuously mismanage paperwork was perhaps the most profitable for the ISB. According to every Imperial record, Venix Crin would be imprisoned in one of the darkest, isolated cells in the galaxy for the rest of her life.

They made their way into the hanger, a huge processional taking up the main floor. Silas stopped the group on the edges of the thick red carpet leading the Zeltrons to their ship.

“Here are your assignments, provisional requests, and safety net coordinates.” Silas said as he handed Venix a small chip. He looked down at the Bothan. “I’ve arranged a position within the Bothawui government, the Zeltron will escort you there.” He raised a hand. “Which you will repay by being her handler.” The Bothan clinched his mouth, but Silas saw his eyes drift towards the Zeltron, considering his current post.

“Then we should begin boarding.” The alien said as it began to turn. Once it was out of ear shot, Silas carefully lowered his voice.

“You will need to be careful.” His voice was stern. “You’re being moved into a delicate position.”

“What’s the haul? Something dangerous?”

“You’re going to be spying on the Galactic Alliance.” Silas saw her deflated quickly. “You’re not going to be able to fly your way out of this. You need to be cautious.”

“I assume you’ve already laid out a plan on this.” Venix nodded towards the datadisk, and Silas thought he spied a small holdout blaster impossibly hidden in the folds of her robe.


“Then I’ll be fine.” Venix said while Silas let out a heavy breath.

“I’ve taken every precaution to ensure you escaped undetected. I have enough information over Jun’du’mar to ensure his silence until the end of time.” Silas straightened. “Once on the Wheel, you will handle Miccoff. Permanently. No loose threads.” Without another word, he turned towards his ship. Behind him, he heard the ornate fanfare playing as the royal Prince made his entrance and his subjects moved into place.
Emperor Cadamor
Sith Emperor
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Emperor Cadamor

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