The sun rose through the buildings of Atrasinhoff, its golden rays reflected and refracted across the ecumenopolis’ structurescape.  In the bedroom of Geordi Atrasin they took no hold, the great windows were shaded black.  Within this cocoon the Prince of Ator took no restful slumber. No, the dead and the subjugated sleep, the predator was already awake.

It had been two months since his cowardly dismissal. Two months of little sleep, fitful planning and many billions of credits spent.  No more was he a Commodore in the Vast Empire Navy.  Today he was Prince-Admiral of the Atoran Home Fleet and he was about to kill someone.

The live feed of the Druzba’s sleeper agent was grainy and static-filled.  Neural transmitters were relatively reliable, but with as many filters and relays this one was going through to disguise its destination, this was as good as it would get.  The choppy video showed a standard passage way of any Imperial II Star Destroyer.  However, this particular Star Destroyer belonged to the soon to be deceased Moff Caerbellak. 

The sleeper agent was the ship’s XO.  A diligent man, a veteran of the Civil War and longtime aide to the Moff, he was also a raging drunk.  Most didn’t know of his issues.  He’d kept the secret for decades, but not well enough.  The Druzba had found him, passed out, in an obscure watering hole deep in the seedier side of Rydonni Prime’s capital.  They’d sedated him further, worked in a modicum of a conditioning program, and then implanted the explosives that he was forthrightly carrying to the feet of his master.

The mundane interior shots of the tubolift gave way to the bustle of the bridge as the door slid open.  Bridge Officers, droids and crewmen scurried about relaying the data and tactics that the good Moff needed in the heat of the battle he was now engaged in.  Caerbellak had responded typically to an induced provocation on his border opposite of the Hegemony.  He was now engaged with a small, nominally ‘Rebel’ fleet.  In reality it was several dozen Rydonni convicts that had been offered a chance at revenge. They were now dying as they were expected to do, and doing so splendidly.

The half dozen CR-90’s and DP-20’s were of an older variant and not possessing of the latest anything.  They were also being piloted by Atrasin’s droids.  One, two…and then a third, they wouldn’t last long against the firepower of that ship, so the time, was now.  The lead Corvette fell in behind the lead of the remaining DP’s.  All three accelerated, aimed for the bridge.  Normally shielding would prevent this from being an issue; however the sleeper had already sabotaged the bridges emitters.

Now, as the panic stricken dreadnought flailed away at the racing ships, the XO reached his destination, “Mr. Lofdu, are the shields back on line?”  The voice of Caerbellak filled the room.  His stoic features were tinged with a hint of worry as the puppet craft drew nearer.  “No Sir, they are not, I recommend we evacuate immediately, “mouthed the walking bomb.  The Moff nodded and moved quickly toward the lift, his lithesome bodyguard in tow.  As they were about to reach the door of the lift, a Jr. Bridge Officer noticed the bypassed circuit that was keeping the shields down, “Moff Caerbell…”

The words never made it to the ears of the Imperial Warlord due to the fact that Lofdu had been detonated.  The immense explosion vaporized the Moff immediately and shattered the bridge.  The incoming ships were caught in the blast and exploded as well, giving all who saw the appearance of THEM taking out the Bridge.  The former flagship heeled over in a listing fade.  Below it was a nameless planetoid, lifeless, but with enough gravity that it pulled the stricken hulk downward, and induced the obliterating explosion that followed. 

Caerbellak dead, his ship destroyed, the puppet craft gone as well…a textbook operation.  He lightly brushed the comm unit built into his desk chair’s armrest, “Elvgren, well done.”

Kuthu Elvgren, new head of the Druzba, and former head of its Field Division, bowed slightly to his Lord and Master.  The tall Munn had a talent for purposeful death that looked accidental.  His predecessor’s demise was part of his handiwork, Atrasin knew this and, if nothing, appreciated talent, “Now, where are we on the ‘suicide’ of Queen Kaileva?”

“She will be grief stricken and despondent in a matter of hours M’lord.  Rydonni will be ripe for the picking by sunrise tomorrow, “his expressionless face conveyed a calm determination when relating his next murder, “Shall I move on the other targets you’ve requested?”

Driver paused for a moment, as satisfying as it would be to have a Wookiee pelt rug over his mantle, he would refrain.  Revenge is dish best served cold, and his blood was still too hot for that, “No, let the line play out.  we’ll not lose that fish.”

“Very well, M’Lord. Elvgren out, “the holo dissipated into nothingness leaving Driver in his thoughts.  Rydonni Prime would be his first acquisition since returning to the Hegemony.  He’d carefully cultivated an aura of good will during the last months of his tenure on Abrae, ostensibly to smooth the waters after the Capp Incident.  In reality, even then, he knew he’d wanted to expand his part of the Empire.  Caerbellak had been a formidable foe, but he was too short-sighted.  He didn’t see the bigger picture of Empire. 

Driver always saw the bigger picture.  He truly had a ‘vision’ of his Navy and his Empire.  His Empire would be everything that Palpatine’s should have been, and none of what it was, base, corrupt, xenophobic, and visibly oppressive.  Elvgren had helped him develop scenarios that would aid in the subterfuge, but he was the one who’s ‘vision’ would play out today, and in the coming years.

Today he had summoned the governors of all the worlds of the Hegemony and ten of their leading citizens from all walks of life and all regions of each world.  He’d also summoned over 20,000 of the elites of the Hegemony. They would be assembled by now in the Great Hall of the Ratselhof.  None of them knew what was about to happen.

He reversed the polarity on the windows and let the glorious Atoran morning wash over him.  He stretched feline-like and straightened his tunic. It was not his usual black on black duty tunic. Not today, today he wore the white on white uniform of a Prince-Admiral.  He admired himself one last time in the mirror.  He’d copied it from Thrawn’s Grand Admiral Uniform, but added a few flourishes and braids.  His polished lightfoil hung at his belt and a royal blue cape hung majestically off his shoulders.  He was ready.

The doors to the Grand Hall flung themselves open and the Atoran Navy Band began playing the martial notes of the Atoran Anthem.  The seated dignitaries rose and turned toward the door as a cortege of courtesans from the ‘Hof, CourscaBank, and the Atoran Military – all in regal garb – made their way toward the throne-bearing dais at the end of the hall.  Once they had all found their appointed places, Atrasin made his way, in measured step, down the Nave.  The Navy Band was joined by the Atoran Army Band as they broke into the all-too-familiar tones of the Imperial March.  One by one the assembled bowed and curtseyed as Driver passed. Upon reaching the dais, he ascended to the level just below the throne, kneeled before it and turned to the throngs.

“Citizens of Ator and the Hegemony, I summon you here today to restore to you what was taken nearly a dozen years hence…EMPIRE.  For too long we have worked, and waited, and prayed for our beloved Empire to be made whole again.  Either through the auspices of the Vast Empire, or the Hegemony, I am here to announce that the wait is over.  Our Empire IS restored TODAY.”

An audible murmur rippled out through the hall.  Heads turned and furtive glances were exchanged.

“Today, I bring you news, news of my elevation by the Imperial Herald to the Princedom of Ator.  As a now fully royal being I have certain rights and obligations bestowed upon me.  My rights, I will not recite, however my obligations…particularly one obligation…I must announce.  As the lord sovereign Prince of Ator, and a Prince of the Galactic Blood Royal, I am bound by my oath to all the Gods to proclaim the Empire REBORN!”

A cheer of ‘HUZZAH’ formed in the back of the hall, and reverberated forward, it grew in volume on the next subsequent four shouts until the whole of the Great Hall was shaking with the noise.  Atrasin held up his hands to calm the masses.

“Gentlebeings of the Empire, we are – sadly – without our beloved Emperor.  Until the day a new Emperor sits upon this throne I will shoulder the burden of leadership as Regent of the Empire.”

Cheers again drown out all other sound until Driver again calms the crowd.

“I will not bear this burden alone.  I am no mere warlord greedily grasping at the trappings of The Throne; I am a Prince seeking to RESTORE the Throne.  To that end I call forward the governors of the Hegemony.”

The Governors of Leria Kerlsil, Lomar, Perma, and Vuma made their way to the dais.

“Governors, you have all served me well over the years.  As your reward I bestow upon you all the title of Moff. You will also serve on the newly created COUNCIL OF MOFFS to advise me on matters of state.  Govern your worlds well, and train the future governors of our IMPERIAL REGENCY…they will be needed.”

The newly minted Moffs returned to their seats. 

“With Moffs in place and me as Regent we have restored the head of the Empire, but not its heart.  I call upon the Ten of Hegemony to rise.”

With those words 40 bewildered beings rose to their feet.

“You 40, along with an additional 40 to be disclosed later, shall form the seed of our new IMPERIAL SENATE.”

A roar louder than all the roars before shook the very foundations of the Great Hall.  Geordi let it wash over him.  After a full time, it subsided enough for him to continue.

“In conclusion, the Atoran Home Fleet and Ground Forces have been renamed the Imperial Regency Navy and Imperial Regency Army.  They will defend the Empire to the end, and expand it until we are, again, TRULY A GALACTIC EMPIRE!!”

The roar would not be stopped this time.  They had been given back what no other faction had given them...a voice. Chants of ‘A-tra-sin, A-tra-sin’ broke out spontaneously, men wept, women clung to each other.  Geordi turned again, and bowed low before the throne, backed away three steps, turned and descended the dais.  As he reached the bottom a phalanx of red robed Imperial Guards entered from both sides of the Great Hall and escorted him out to the strains of ‘The March’.

Reaching the Robing Chamber Driver cast off his cape and thumbed a comm, “Elvgren, did the feed go out?”

A holo of the Munn’s face formed, “Yes M’lord it went out on all relays to the whole of the Galaxy…even the Vast Empire.”

“Excellent, let them choke on THAT ‘vision’.”