**Chapter 234: Diamond Platter**
Rath Sienar stood alone in the vast, climate-controlled design vault beneath the Sienar Fleet Systems central complex on Coruscant, the low hum of holographic projectors and diagnostic rigs the only sound. Two weeks. No—two of the best weeks of his life.
He had been on the verge of retirement. The thought still amused him. At the start of the Clone Wars he had been tinkering with a half-formed concept for a next-generation ion engine, nothing more than sketches and three failed prototypes that refused to hold stable output without melting their own containment fields. He had stared at those failures one night, wine glass in hand, and muttered to his reflection in the polished durasteel wall, "Time to let the next generation lay the groundwork. I've given enough."
Then General Dagon Marek had walked in.
The man had arrived without fanfare—no entourage, no Republic security detail—just a secure case and a quiet confidence that made Rath's engineers scatter like startled mynocks. On the table he had placed what Rath could only describe as a diamond platter of designs. Blueprints. Schematics. Holorecordings of captured Separatist hardware in action. And the real prize: actual wreckage from Vulture droids, Hyena bombers, Nantex Geonosian fighters, and even a partially intact NovaSword Space Superiority Fighter that Dagon's forces had somehow acquired intact.
Rath had expected corporate espionage or Republic bureaucracy. Instead he received a gift that felt almost treasonous in its generosity.
He ran a hand over the nearest workstation now, fingers tracing the finalized schematic glowing in mid-air. The old Sith Empire's ion engine principles—thousands of years old, yet eerily parallel to his own stalled concepts—had been the missing key. The galaxy liked to pretend it invented everything yesterday, but Rath knew better. Hyperdrives were still Duros-derived relics. Most weapons were reskinned versions of ancient blaster tech. The Sith had simply done it cleaner, meaner, with a brutality that modern engineers had forgotten.
Dagon's fighters had shown him how to marry that ancient ruthlessness with modern Republic tolerances. The TIE Silencer and Whisper prototypes—already half-built from V-19 airframes and Vulture droid wing spars—had become the foundation. Rath had torn them apart and rebuilt them better.
The SFS P-s4 twin ion engine array was the heart of it all.
He activated the full diagnostic hologram. Twelve solar energy collectors—six per wing panel—unfolded in ghostly blue light. Each collector fed into its own solar energy grid monitor and energy accumulator line. The lines converged on a single Energizer and Recharge system, routed through a heat exchange matrix that bled waste heat into the high-pressure radioactive gas fuel tank. Phase two energy collection coils—three per wing attachment pylon—fed the SFS I-a2b solar ionization reactor. From there the power split cleanly into the twin P-s4 ion engines and the two SFS P-w401 ion maneuvering jets.
Beautiful. Elegant. Decades ahead of anything Kuat Drive Yards or Rendili StarDrive had on the drawing board.
And he had given it all to Dagon for free.
Rath chuckled softly. Payment? The General had laughed when Rath offered credits. "Keep the designs. Just give my fleets the ships." Instead Dagon had handed over something far more valuable: coordinates to a hidden hyperspace route. Four hours straight from Coruscant to Vrogas Vas.
Rath had sent a probe droid first. The planet appeared on the long-range scan as a greenish-brown orb wrapped in a blue nebula, surface nothing but arid flats, gorges, and dunes. No native sentient life. Only non-native wasp-worms burrowing under rocky outcroppings. But the seismic and atmospheric readings… untapped fuel reserves the size of a small star system. High-pressure radioactive gases perfect for the new engines. Within days of the first automated mining rigs landing, Sienar's share price had jumped twenty-five percent. Investors who had been whispering about retirement packages were suddenly buying more stock.
That single planet had turned a generous gift into an empire.
Rath moved to the next station. The first production model hovered in miniature: the TIE Advanced 1—designated X1 in Dagon's shorthand.
He had based the cockpit and forward section on an old prototype Star Courier he himself had designed years ago for a noble who had died before taking delivery. Dagon had somehow acquired the wreck from a CIS salvage yard and returned it with a note: "CIS didn't deserve it. You do." Rath was still grateful the Separatists had never realized what they had scrapped.
The X1 featured an experimental shield system—something TIEs had never carried. A supermagnet at the rear projected a stabilizing field; forward and lateral projector bars deployed the actual deflector energies. Pilots would survive long enough to matter. Each craft included an ejector seat—another novelty the Republic had never bothered with. "Clones are expendable," the brass liked to say. Dagon clearly disagreed.
Armament was simple but devastating: twin L-S9.3 laser cannons and a cluster missile launcher. Class 4 hyperdrive for independent operations. The fighter looked like a predator—sleek, black, wings folded for atmospheric entry.
Rath smiled. First of the true TIE series.
He stepped to the next platform. The TIE Avenger.
This one he considered a heavy starfighter. Externally mounted port-side dual laser cannon. Two anti-personnel rotary blaster cannons tucked under the chin for ground support. Wing-mounted missiles and torpedoes. And the crown jewel: a heavier retractable heavy laser cannon beneath the cockpit pod. It took time to power up, but one shot could punch through blast-door armor and incinerate whatever was on the other side. The advanced targeting computer projected a holographic heads-up display directly in front of the pilot's face, tracking ships and life signs alike. Missiles could be fire-and-forget once locked.
Heavily armored, heavily armed. The kind of ship that made enemy aces hesitate.
Next station: the TIE/d Defender.
Three wings mounted around the aft cockpit section—triangular, menacing, instantly recognizable. Deflector shields and a hyperdrive as standard. Designed from the start as a fighter-bomber. Six wingtip L-s9.3 laser cannons, two chin-mounted L-s9.3s, twin Borstel NK-3 medium ion cannons, and warhead launchers carrying two SFS M-g-2 general-purpose ordnance pods. Four concussion missiles or proton torpedoes standard; CLL-3 ion torpedoes for disabling capital ships. This was the ship that would own the space between capital engagements.
Rath felt a quiet pride. Kuat could keep churning out Venators and Acclamators. Sienar would own the fighter market.
The final platform held two more designs side by side.
First, the TIE/rp Reaper attack lander. A troop carrier disguised as a starfighter. Ninety MGLT from twin ion engines, maximum atmospheric speed of 950 kph. Class 1 hyperdrive accessible from the cockpit. Three seats lined behind a broad forward viewport, uncluttered cargo space behind. Single pilot could operate everything—targeting computer, nav system, twin SFS L-s9.3 laser cannons. It would drop platoons of clones directly into hot zones and extract them just as fast.
Beside it floated the bomber: the TIE/ca Punisher—Dagon called it the TIE Interdictor or Punisher interchangeably. Forward light laser cannons for defense. Ventral twin proton bomb chutes with tandem release for surface targets. Four fire-linked proton torpedo or concussion missile launchers. Sturdier frame than any previous TIE, complete with deflector shields. The mission profile was simple: deliver the payload, survive long enough to matter, return for reload. No more fragile glass cannons.
Rath leaned against the railing, arms crossed, and let the full suite of holograms rotate around him. Six new fighter types—Advanced, Avenger, Defender, Reaper, Punisher, and the base TIE/ln already in limited production. All sharing the same revolutionary P-s4 engines. All built to be recoverable. All designed to give the Twelfth Sector Fleet an edge no other Republic formation possessed.
He thought of Dagon again. The man had arrived scarred, half-white hair, eyes carrying the weight of battles Rath could only imagine. He had spoken of "old Sith designs" with the casual certainty of someone who had seen them in action. Rath had not asked how. Some gifts you simply accepted.
A soft chime interrupted his reverie. His personal comm. He activated it.
"Director Sienar," the voice of his senior production overseer said, "the first batch of TIE Advanced 1s just cleared vacuum testing. All six prototypes performed within two percent of projected specs. Fuel draw from the Vrogas Vas shipment is optimal. The board is requesting a full presentation for the quarterly investor briefing."
Rath allowed himself a rare, satisfied smile. "Tell them the TIE series is no longer a concept. It is the future. And the future belongs to Sienar."
He killed the link and stood in the quiet glow of his creations once more.
Two weeks ago he had been ready to retire. Today he felt thirty years younger.
The Clone Wars had given him a patron who understood war the way an engineer understood stress tolerances—exactly, brutally, and without waste. In return, Rath would give the Republic fleets something they had never had: starfighters that could fight, survive, and come home.
He reached out and touched the holographic wing of the nearest Defender. The projected image rippled under his fingers like water.
"General Marek," he murmured to the empty vault, "you gave me a diamond platter. I intend to fill the skies with the blades it forged."
Outside the complex, Coruscant's endless traffic streamed past. Somewhere above the planet, the first production run of TIEs waited in their cradles—black, angular, lethal. Soon they would join the Twelfth Sector at Lantillies. Soon the war would feel the difference.
Rath Sienar turned off the holograms one by one, but the glow of possibility remained behind his eyes.
The age of the TIE had begun.