Act I: Setting the Stage

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Every scion of House Tregessar, from the children of the main dynastic line to all the myriad cadet branches, grew up learning of the former greatness of the house. For two hundred years during the worst of the Gulag Plague they had ruled Axxila, the greatest of the great families, the chosen Protector and Consul of the planet. Then a great conspiracy of the lower families came together and unjustly tore down their regime. Only recently, in the past 80 years had they regained their prominence as one of the great families.

History is ever twisted by the perspective of those that view it. No family had maintained control on Axxila for longer than a century or two, and each that had maintained a vindictive view of the past. This irony was seemingly lost on all but the scattered republican dissidents who lurked in the undercity and plotted fruitlessly for a more just society.

They were not immune to such hubris either. Once a millenia or so there was a general rising, and each was put down just a brutally and horribly as the last. The Great Families kept records and learned lessons from the past, while every new band of would-be liberators vowed to not make the same mistakes and then followed the same path to their eventual doom.

Humanity is like that sometimes, always willing to learn from others mistakes and refusing to acknowledge their own. Axxila itself certainly never seemed to care, if there was any soul left to that planet that had been ruined and turned into a a pallid husk, with the occasional 'preserve' or 'sanctuary' the only reminder that once there had been life here that wasn't bowed and oppressed beneath a steel sky.

And in spite of it all the planet continued to turn, and in that there was a lesson to be learned in inevitability and the ceaseless, uncaring nature of the universe.

It was such a legacy that drove Katharine Tregessar, though you could hardly consider her an ignorant or foolish child of the line. The weight of tradition lies heavy on those who sustain themselves by it, and House Tregessar in particular lived by a very harsh set of rules. Expand your power and the power of the house, or have your throat ripped out from behind by one with the ambition and the drive to do so.

The strong survive, the ruthless thrive, and ever on does the galaxy turn.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

AXXILA
TREGESSAR HORATA, 'THE CITADEL'
1922 GALACTIC STANDARD TIME

The main conference room at the Citadel was about three quarters of the way to the top, and towered high enough above the roughly even 'surface' of the planet-city that it had a view above all the airborne traffic. It was an impressive sight, purposefully calculated to give those present a sense of scale, majesty, and power. The main observation windows were situated so that they caught the setting sun, and also happened to have a clear view of the towers of House Majhellain and House Cholot, both of which peaked somewhat higher than the Tregessar Citadel.

This too was intentional. Sometimes it helped to remind those who treated with you that your power was not unlimited. At least not yet.

Cyrus entered the chamber with a certain amount of trepidation. It was somewhat unusual for his sister to request his presence on their home planet, especially with the upheaval among the One Sith, but the message had been worded just strongly and curious enough that he had decided to show up. It wasn't as if she was going to detain him or something, that had been tried before by their father and had ended disastrously.

The conference room was large, and could seat several hundred people easily, with standing room for more. This time, however, it was mostly empty. An officer in helldiver dress uniform stood leaning against a table, chatting idly with a woman wearing House Tregessar colors and with insignia that marked her as the chief of the house security forces. A handful of house troops rounded out the main group.

The surprise was a man in the dress uniform of a Sith Army Officer seated with his arms crossed, looking professionally bored. Another officer, presumably an aide or chief of staff sat nearby with almost the same look. It was a practiced face, really, with a mental competent as well. A necessity when one dealt with Sith on a regular basis.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

The Sith officer noticed Cyrus first, and rose to his feet and assumed a position of attention without any real urgency, but also not disrespectfully slow. His aide followed, while the Helldiver officer simply assumed the position with a certain casualness. The Chief of Security simply gave a curt nod. Cyrus' reputation in the house overall was still in a sort of flux.

With a wave of his hand Cyrus gave them permission to fall at ease, before Captain Vayrrel, only a pace or two behind him, could even enter the room.

The Sith Officer approached and offered his hand, which Cyrus shook. He wasn't particular tall or muscular, but had a grim face and hard eyes, the look of a professional. How Katharine had gotten in touch with the man and why, Cyrus had no idea.

“Colonel Kol Marzen, 887th Independent Battlegroup, at your service sir.”

Cyrus nodded.

“Welcome to my house, Colonel, what's your units specialty.”

The colonel grinned in response. “Marine Raiders, sir.”

Cyrus nodded. Borderline special forces then, a marine unit with extensive training in shipboard operations that leaned towards covert insertion and behind-enemy-lines raiding and harassment. One of the elite units of the Sith Army, then, which made his presence here even more interesting.

“Captain Vayrrel, please take down the Colonel's details, his unit sounds like one it'd be good to use, from time to time."

Katharine had yet to show up. Presumably that meant there were a few more guests to arrive.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Immaculate in the house red and blacks, Katharine Tregessar entered the conference chamber, flanked by a somewhat bemused looking [member="Cable Shike"]. In contrast to the pristine military appearance of the heir apparent of House Tregessar, Cable seemed to have been pulled off the street at the last minute, and only a careful eye could notice that by the way he walked and the position of his hands he was a vicious fighter and skilled soldier.

His presence was also of great interest to Cyrus, since it was by his request that Cable had undergone a battery of tests proving him force-sensitive. he was to have been a special project of sorts, a possible in to the mysterious religious hierarchy of the Sith, and now here he was being displayed by Katharine for some other purpose.

It's a curious feeling being outwitted by your younger sister.

Katharine, true to the Tregessar tradition (though perhaps spurning the classic Axxilan etiquette) didn't waste time except for basic introductions. The Helldiver officer was Flight Captain Zaro, one of the original soldiers who still descended from the old Atrisian Force Recon. Cyrus had spoken with the man a few times, enough to know he was a supremely capable soldier with an Impeial eye towards discipline and regulation. At the moment, he regarded Cable with something like disgust, undoubtedly due to his appearance.

The Chief of Security was addressed as Captain-General Mes'ilya, An impressive sounding title, but in times of war the House troops would likely be subordinate to any other ranking officer. She was an unknown to Cyrus, and though assuredly competent at her job (Katharine did not simply promote useless sycophants) her actual experience at large-scale warfare was necessarily limited. Suppressing dissidents or crushing a rival house was a far cry from directing an army group across a planetary battlefield. It wasn't hard to imagine her taking orders from someone like Colonel Marzen if it came to that.

The others present were all bodyguards and staff aides. With the press of a button a holo display popped open and Katharine began the presentation.

 

[Cable Shike]

Cable wasn't entirely sure why he was here. Obviously because his presence had been requested by the surprisingly good looking heir apparent of the house (a shocker when your only exposure to full blooded Tregessar's was Cyrus, who was known to be something of a black sheep), but there was always something going on under the hood at the Citadel.

If anything it had something to do with the last drop Cable and his Section had been on. A milk-run really, a quick crash and smash paid for by the sort of people who would really rather you didn't know their names. The raid had gone off almost perfectly, and had finished up so perfectly that even after calling in for extraction there had been time to poke around. The Flight Captain, a frigid stiff named Zaro, had almost protested when Cable recommend they poke around to kill time.

Just his luck the same Zaro was now seated across from him in full dress uniform, along with the erstwhile Marshal Cyrus himself.

Katharine (could he call her that, maybe she preferred Kat?) had started speaking, so rather than continue pointless conjecture Cable decided to just listen for a while.

"... for years now I have striven to find a way to increase the prestige and wealth of the house. Shadowline helped, to a point. But secondary contracts by backwater worlds can only provide so much income. Arms production is almost totally devoted to maintaining the equipment your Helldivers burn through so rapidly..."

Cyrus gave an amused snort in response, while Zaro's professional mask of military bearing didn't even budge. A compliment in disguise, then? Katharine continued on as if nothing had happened.

"Our shipbuilding industry is gone, we sold most of the assets to form Shadowline, and I've been forced to commission vessels from Tenloss and Vanir to create at least some form of naval force. In other words we need a new industry, something which can be hard to found here on Axxila. So the plan is clear, House Tregessar needs to expand offworld, and pick up a supply where there is a demand. Thanks to the efforts of Jump Sergeant Shike, I have found that demand."

She turned towards him and with the most frigid smile ever spoke in a tone that was half an order and half a polite request.

"Sergeant, please explain what you found during your last mission."

 

[Cable Shike]

Cable swallowed. Suddenly he wanted nothing to do with Katharine, the Helldivers, or House Tregessar. Every bone in his body that still remembered the Black Ring screamed for him to get out. The hairs on the back of his neck were practically upright, unease gripped every inch of his body.

No fucking pressure, right.

He spoke, slowly, and as professionally as possible for a former mafia hitman.

"It was uh, a pretty standard drop. The contacts were all mysterious but it wasn't hard to figure them for some black market types, some criminal syndicate or another, buying a hit on some rivals. We were tasked to go in and punch a whole in their facility, take out the defenders, then extract and let the scavvies, er, the thugs, you know the militia they have, they would come in and secure the facility. We rolled up quietly, took a bit of fire on the final approach but a couple shells from the gunship shut that down. With the Captain directing from 'hawk we split into Lances and just carved the place up. Minimal casualties, some busted armor and maybe a handful of wounded, nothing serious."

He paused, the figures surrounding him had all gone quiet and appeared to be listening to every word and detail. But so far there had been no guns drawn or knives put against his neck, so he kept going.

"So we finish and call in for extraction and I tell my boys to start poking around because I figure the scavvies, uh sorry, the militia won't know the difference you know? What's another kicked in door. The Captain, doing like he's supposed to tells me to rein it in but I managed to argue that it was for intel gathering."

He paused again. Anybody wise in the ways of the underworld would know that Cable had been out for some quick looting, but still no one spoke. Either they were all idiots or they simply didn't care. The latter option was a lot more appealing.

"So one of my guys gives me a call on the comms sounding sort of panicked. I hustle over and find him crouched over a box he'd bashed open and it's full of these flat plates. I think he's nuts until he starts babbling about 'phrik, solid goddamn phrik' so I have everyone nearby pocket what they can for uh, later inspection and then we got the word extract had arrived so we left."

He looked around, and still unable to judge the reaction of those assembled ran the story he'd told through is head to make sure it matched the actual events. Thus satisfied he gave a single resolute nod.

"Yep, that's it."

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Cyrus spoke up almost immediately after the soldier had finished his story, with a mental note to restart the project to get Cable force training. Perhaps some formal education too.

"You traced the source, I assume."

Katharine nodded. "With Captain Zaro's help and the resources available to the House we were able to narrow it down. Eventually we ended up on a remote station that orbits Seltos, one of the handful of unclaimed phrikite mining systems in the galaxy. There's a number of large space stations orbiting the main planet, but one in particular, which is supposedly a residential and trade depot, has significantly more money leaving it than going in."

Cyrus nodded. That much was all likely found via public records from the old Omega Protectorate. The rest could be pieced together separately, or even forced by making a few clandestine transactions and watching where the money went. Knowing Katharine, she'd probably done a bit of both. The cost would have been astronomical, the House was probably in dire financial straits, this was a do or die moment.

Tregessar's always did well under pressure. Or they died. The strong survive.

"The station is all a front. The truth is that it's a large-scale phrik refining plant run by an organization called the Dusk Magistery. ATC has a general monopoly on phrikite mining in the system, but the Magistry buys up the phrikite mined by nearly every independent organization and free belter. it's refined on the station, Sommrin Orbital, and held in secret at several sites, we don't know where. Twice a year they move it all back to Sommrin, renegotiate their 'contracts' with the various sellers and buyers, and ship it out in a large convoy. Those are the only times it's all together."

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Cyrus tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently. This was boring and unnecessary, a show put on for someone's sake, probably the Sith Marine. He certainly did not need the full brief to know that Katharine already had a plan of action and probably had it half-implemented by now.

"Please get to the point, Kat, I'm not terribly interested in the dinner plans of a bunch of smugglers."

Katharine smiled her most venomous smile, but even that seemed forced, like she had already anticipated his restlessness as part of her presentation. Fucking family, can't live with em, can't live without em.

"I was getting to that, Cy. The crux of the issue is that a simple raid on the station doesn't net us much. Sure, we can cut off the head of the organization but without the stock and the contracts all it means is a quick restructuring of the upper echelon and they move house somewhere else. We lose our lead and we lose the opportunity."

Mes'ilya nodded. "it's like hitting another house, we need to make sure we can achieve multiple objectives at a time. You mean to strike when they're doing the renegotiating."

Katharine smiled, this time all warmth and wisdom. "Exactly, but I don't intend to wait or try and guess. Rather I intend to force their hand, with a bit of misdirection."

"Make it seem like a targeted hit by the Sith? Reasonable, they might think they have heat closing in and try and shift operations right away." Almost certain he was right, Cyrus began working through a mental checklist of exactly how he'd go about things. Interdictors would be needed, preferably the silent kind, and he just so happened to know how to get one of those...

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

"Close, brother, but not entirely correct. We'll stage a pirate raid, using Tregessar ships mostly, and any hired help we can get. Our targets, of course, will appear to be the transports but in fact be the escorts. The transports will inevitably turn and run, and as soon as they arrive back at the station strike forces will attack and seize the place, along with the leadership of the Magistry and all the various contractors. The Sith simply add to the confusion, and will hopefully slow down their decision making. The Marines also allows us to not utilize Helldivers in the operation, as their contracts are all but tapped out at present."

Cyrus frowned, than turned towards Colonel Marzen. "How many soldiers can you provide at short notice?"

The Colonel gave a slight bow of his head, indicating he both anticipated the question and was already apologizing for the answer. "Most of the unit is tied up at the moment, I have at best four hundred men, and two corvettes available to me."

Cyrus' frown turned to a scowl. Hardly enough to seize a station, especially one bound to be as heavily guarded as this one. Then, feeling something like an idiot, it occurred to him exactly why Mes'ilya was there. He raised one eyebrow, and turned back to face Katharine. "Our house troops then? Bit of a give-away of our involvement, isn't it?"

Katharine shrugged, the cool indifference of the gesture so surprisingly familiar that Cyrus almost laughed.
"It's irrelevant at that point. By the time they put it all together it will be too late. I anticipate most of the upper and lower echelons of the Magistry will find our... offer, most compelling. The alternative will be to try their luck making planetfall unaided."