Hidden Manifesto
RSV/MAJ Bond/M/FRG Phoenix/Reserves
(Bond@TheJediMaster.net)

Warning! This Document Contains Adult Themes Because of
Adult Language and Excessive, Tasteless, and Unnecessary Violence
this work is not suitable for children under the age of 13 or the Pope

Modified Escort Shuttle Mark xiii
0530 local system time, orbiting Ullyr

"Sir, we're approaching Ullyr," the co-pilot wakes Bond in the plush passenger's lounge, he stands and hands the copilot a holodisk.
"Transmit this code and land at the displayed coordinates," Bond replies collecting himself, opening the safe and gathering his weapons.
The ship gently tuches down on a pad deep in the woods of Ullyr, in a valley below Bond's private Ullyr residence. The ships anti-gravity engines kick in and the ship hovers to a corner among Bond's others vehicles. The door opens and Bond tosses the pump key and a bottle of Galkii Vodka to the co-pilot. "Refuel over there," Bond says pointing to the pump, "and you better not open that until you land on Kensington, this ship is ridiculously expensive," Bond smiles. He jumps out of the ship with his belongings, concluding his three week leave of absence from his Ludo Kressh office. He had been away on 'division business', one can only wonder what manner of scum he had eliminated in the name of Imperial Justice. Intelligence Division justice was swift and brutal, Bond had joined the ranks of their elite double-oh group after an intense training period that few recruits emerge from victorious. His Queasator had also completed the program, Master Goatham was one of the divisions most effective agents.
Short absences were typical of Bond and the house as a whole, many of them had other concerns with the Empire, from pilot to Senator to navy commander. However Bond current absence was extended by a factor of three over his usual affairs, he had been dealing with family business, the Northern Cluster Intergalactic Group, owned by Bond by default after his father and uncles death during a pirate raid on the main NCIG facility when he was only an adolescent. Since then Bond has rebuilt the corporation into the grand trade firm that it is today, operated by a mixture of friends and family it prospers, as one of the largest concerns in Hammer space, however racked with debt. He had been dealing with a smaller rival group that had engaged in sabotage against NCIG during his leave. Some individuals may be immune to a jedi's mind tricks, but not his blade.

Inside Bond's living room
0557 local system time

Bond enters the room and says, "On."
"Welcome back Mr. Radiak Bond, I hope you enjoyed your trip. You have fourteen new messages, one is labeled urgent. It is nearing six AM, the temperature is seventy-six degrees Farenhite," the computer says in a broken mechanical voice.
Bond is already reaching for the remote, he hits the 'Mail' button, a text message pops up over the holoprojector, adjusting its angel for Bond's position. It reads;

TEXT COMMUNICATION RECEIVED 0 DAYS, 7 HOURS, 23 MINUTES AGO
SUBJECT: ANNIVERSARY CAKE READY
BODY:
hey radiak, cakes done pick it up soon or someone else'll take it
out.

"Damnit, I just god back!" Bond exclaims, grabs his coat and walking out the door confused. Anniversary Cake? He wonders, had he forgot the code. What does it mean?

Boulangerie-Patisserie de Jean
0721 local system time

"Bond," He says as he walks in as a droid scans his body and voice, giving the shopkeeper a nod.
"Ah, very nice." The shopkeeper says handing Bond a box, "Good luck sir."

outside
0723 local system time

Bond sits at a table and opens the box it contains an array of printed maps, offerings of small arms, and a holodisk sealed in a box protected by a retnal scanner. He unlocks the box and slides the holodisk into his comm.
"Good Morning, Agent 009. We have received a request from an anonymous imperial officer, we assume of very high standing as the DIR gave this mission a go with out reviewing it. His or Her message follows you will be the only individual to hear the message and you are asked to destroy this disk. You will receive payment from the third party. Good Luck." Bond pauses the message, remembering his days in the Academy of Tactics where he vowed never to accept a mission as a mercenary, that was before he had completed his first task for the Empire-- that left him a killer with remorse. "Good day, Agent 009. You have been tasked to kill a rouge imperial warlord, who resides on Ullyr. Known only as Goatham. Various maps and other information is included, please destroy all materials. BEWARE: Goatham is rumored to poses jedi powers. You will be rewarded by wire to the order of two-hundred thousand credits. Good Luck. May the Force be with you."
"Someones going to die." Bond declares, to himself. He stands immediately and hails a taxi. "Kressh Palace. Immediately," He hands the driver a stack of credits.

Kressh Palace
0811 local system time

The taxi lets Bond out at the beginning of the private road to the place, he immediately begins to sprint the two miles towards the building checking his weapons in the process.
"Morning." Bond salutes the guards. "Do not alert the Queasator of my presence, I will meet Master Goatham in the lounge."
The grand palace, Kressh's Queasarors private retreat was obtained from the monarchy in power before Imperial rule and kept from the current ruling class by the vast influence of the Brotherhood.
Bond runs through the halls and up to the lounge. Goatham was known to frequent the lounge in the mornings around this time, to catch up on the nights news and to keep up with his work throughout the Empire.
Bond had spent many long nights in this palace with the Queasator and the rest of the clan summit, discussing pressing matters. Bond knew his targets routine like his own as his official position in the house as Rollmaster was just that of a glorified assistant to the summit. Knowing his target so well and having access to his residence would make this the easiest two hundred grand he had ever made.

outside the lounge
0822 local system time

"Is the Queasaror in?" Bond asks one of the cleaning staff roaming the halls. He nods and points to the lounge. Just then someone dressed as a chef enters the lounge carrying a plate of food, Bond notices a bulge in his white jacket.
He concludes, "He's packing." Bond draws his weapons; an Emerald saber, he crafted himself, the base built of a rare polished chrome colored marble and a ridiculously expensive, but effective Platinum Blaster obtained from the Republic of Naboo. Two benefits not of being insanely wealthy himself, but of the clans vast riches.
Bond forces open the door and examines the room. He extends his arm concentrating-- he throws the chef to the floor, he jumps over the man and ignites his saber, the blade less than an inch from the his neck. "Don't fricken move." He raises his blaster to another man on the other side of the room.
"What in HELL are you doing Bond?!" The Queasator jumps out of his chair. "Thats Crimson! Get off him!" Goatham yells, referring to the jedi called Crimsion Angel, the houses finest squadron commander, another of Goatham's trusted advisors.
Re-holstering his weapons, Bond explains, "Oh, comon the chef had a gun. I thought he was going to kill you." Bond continues and winks, "Happy Anniversary."
"Leave us." Goatham announces nodding.
Crimson Angel stands and removes his mask, punching Bond in the arm. The maid standing in the corner quivering quickly picks up the mess Crimsion left when he was forced to the ground, "I will bring more." She quietly declares as she leaves
"You received one as well? I summoned Crimson to act as my guard in your absence."(as the house's second most powerful jedi, Bond was typically called on to defend the summit) Goatham explains, "I was to eliminate Trev."(Trev is Saddow's Consul).
"I rushed here as soon as I received the message, I could only assume there was another agent hired to do the job should I fail."
"I have alerted the other houses. House and Clan leaders have been taken away, under Kressh escort. They now with the Clan's most capable jedi, no one is going to get a shot at them, even the fine 00 agents sent after them. Scithe(HLK's AED) has joined the group and the base is locked down." Goatham continues pressing a button to ready his shuttle, "protocol dictates I should join the summit under protection, however I have other plans."
"Sir, we have little discourse but to retaliation. Shall we raise the base and scramble our fighters?" Bond asks.
"Ah, you mean you believe the 'client' to be Clan Satal Keto, too?"
"Yes, I thought I recognized the voice, Consul Drako."
"I know I recognized the voice, I had it matched to a recorded address he mad to the Senate last year, perfect match. It was not artificially generated. Drako ordered the hits in the name of CSK."
"Why?" Bond asks, "Tensions have been high between the clans, I had no idea it would deteriorate into a cowardly act such as this. Heads are going to roll."
"My thoughts exactly."
Bond looks up after examining his with his comm, "You are not going to believe this. One of my company's recent acquisitions has a contract delivering gormet foodstuffs to Clan Satal Keto's place."
"Your kidding?" Goatham smiles.
"No. I'll see you on Aurora then?" Bond asks referring to the planet of the Auran Today Express' Headquarters.
"Absolutely. Someones going to die." Goatham snarls. "Crimson return to your residence, retrieve your equipment. We're going to Aurora."
"Let the bodies hit the floor." Bond smiles.

back in Bond private residence...
0857 local system time

Sometimes Bond wonders what kind of wacky disturbed individual has an armory buried deep under his home. "This kind of psyco," Bond thinks smiling as he places weaponry in to briefcases. They contain all manner of weaponry, anything one could need for a suicidal mission such as this. Goatham and Crimson were undoubtedly on their way already as they had much less to travel and more likely than not were inadequately equipped.

aboard the Nagori Fast Attack Ship Maverick

"COO, Ms. Bond please." Bond says speaking to a secretary at NCIG
"Hello?" a female voice replies, Jennifer Bond, Bond sister and Chief Operating Officer of NCIG
"Jen, do me a huge favor keep the shipment to Satal Keto on the dock. Don't ask."
"Sure... but..." Bond cuts the line

Calkri Landing Pad, Midtown Imperial City, Aurora
1232 Ullyr system time
0632 local system time

Goatham, Crimson and Karim(another jedi from the house who happened to have been outside of the base when it was submerged) had only been waiting for about ten minutes, however under armed guard. A futile security measure, as the two could literally kill the rent-a-cops by thinking about it.
"Here's the plan guys," Bond says. The group of four jedi gather beside the aging shuttle and assault transport they are to deliver a personalized thank you card to Satal Keto with, surrounded by a ridiculous pile of weapons all concealed in various pieces of luggage and briefcases. "They can't possibly be this stupid. They knew they would be caught, but perhaps they did not consider being caught before they summits had been eliminated. Regardless, we must be alert. Should we underestimate our enemy we will perish as they will for their overt foolishness."
"We need all of this?" Karim asks pointing to the weapons.
"Oh yeah." Goatham smiles

Satal Keto Palace Main Hanger
0103 Aurah system time
1203 local system time

"I look ridiculous." Crimson mutters slowly unloading the foodstuffs, dressed in an Aurora Today Express uniform.
"Yeah." Bond smiles standing next to Goatham, each dressed in cheap looking suits holding two metallic briefcases. Not ordinary briefcases, each contains various vacuum compartments that disappears on any type of scanner. The two can't help but smiling after being frisked and scanned and sent off to the summit meeting to 'discuss payment issues'. Weapons undetected.

Small Meeting Room, Command Level
1211 local system time

"Well you two are lucky we have a little time to provide an audience to consider your complaints. Hurry up, the Security Team will be in a few minutes for a meeting." Epis Arion Sunrider, continues, "What do you have to say?"
The Consul and Proconsul sit at the far end of the conference table and a few other security and secretary-types sit along the sides. Bond approaches the Proconsul and Goatham moves for the Consul. Goatham opens one of his briefcase and hands some documents to the Consul.
"If you examine the numbers..." Bond continues as he reaches into his pocket and presses a button on his comm summoning the assault transport. The Proconsul, the elder of the summit, an Epis, begins to feel a deep uneasiness as Bond continues to speak.
Suddenly, he begins to exclaim, "JEDI!"
Not before Bond's saber pops out of the top of his briefcase, he quickly ignites it and as easy as the backstroke of a professional's back swing, Bond slices through Proconsul Arion Sunrider's throat as the Jedi reaches for his saber. Meanwhile Goatham and Consul Drako draw their sabers. A short but fierce battle insues, the two Battlemasters of equal power jump onto the conference table and battle.
Bond locks the door with this force powers and begins a one sided fire-fight with the remaining security guards that lasts only as long as they guards could hide, they were picked off in seconds.
On the table Goatham had forced the Consul's saber out of his hands, the man retreats to a corner. Goatham picks up Drako's saber, duel wielding his new saber Goatham pauses as Drako struggles to ask, "How did you know?" With out speaking Goatham summarily executes the Consul. With one stroke the two blade slice through the traitor's head.
As the two Kressh jedi collect their weaponry and the sabers of the fallen, red lights flash, "Hostile intruders have entered the system, all squadrons are to scramble."
"Thad be Karim." Bond nods. "A perfect distraction." He thinks.

Satal Keto Palace Main Hanger
1229 local system time

"Crimson!" Bond yells as he runs into the Hanger, his Queasator not far behind. "Lets go!"
Bond tosses the four briefcases into the shuttle followed by a thermal detonator, to destroy the evidence. The three jedi run towards the Modified Corellian Transport Hot Shot, Crimson had hijacked.
The ship pulls off as Ricaud, Queasator of Satal Keto's sith house runs into the hanger taking pot shots at the fleeing ship, "NAGA SADOW!" He screams.

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