The Battleships came about and entered the asteriod field, having completed the destruction of the enemy guardian and rogue pirate forces. The fleet used their numerous heavy weapons to clear asteriods out of their paths as they proceeded to join up with the remaining ships participating in the assault on the enemy asteriod. Reports came in from the ground teams that they had established a beachead on the asteriod, but that they were facing heavy resistance. Admiral Harker suddenly had an idea for part of the second wave.

"Admiral Harker to Shoto of second wave, Admiral Harker to Shoto of second wave, come about, and circle the asteriod. Launch the shuttles, and assault the far side of the asteriod. Let's see if they have shifted their personnel all to the one side of the asteriod to combat the intitial landing troops. Keep the two cutters with the remaining second wave on this side in case General Grevious requests their help there." ordered the Admiral.

The Shoto tasked to carrying shuttles of the second wave rounded the asteriod, but immediatly came under fire from the unharmed batteries on that side of the asteriod. A firestorm of power from the main fleet, quickly coming up on the asteriod, silenced nearly all of them quickly, allowing the shoto to finish off the last two, and launch four fully loaded assault shuttles to enter one of the rear hatches/emergency hangar bay of the asteriod. From there the shuttles first cleaned house with their anti-infantry laser cannons, eliminating the few guards who responded, then dumped off their loads of a total of one hundred sixty Farfalen commandoes, who quickly made their way into the corridors of the asteriod.

Admiral Harker quickly recieved a disturbing report that Droidekas had eliminated an advance force of Farfalen and BDE troops in the main area. By comlink he warned General Grevious of the impending danger.......

A lot of civilians in the Tion Cluster believed death commandos of the Black Dragon Empire were all steely-eyed, boot-tough, deadly as a cage full of hawkbats and as sharp as a room full of needles. The holovids made it out that little, if anything, got past a trained BDE death commando. That they could chew up nails and pee thumbtacks. The truth was that a basic trooper was usually a kid, barely old enough to be depilating his peach-fuzz whiskers, and as big a sucker as any teenager. It didn't take a genius to pass basic military entrance exams. If you could find your way to the test site and spell your name for the computer, you were probably bright enough to get in. How long you stayed alive after that depended on how well the training took and how stupid your officers were, but the myth of the take-charge BDE commando was just that, a myth.

The incident in the sixth level inside Vegresso Base, proved it.



"Frak! They're all around us!" a trooper yelled.

Vilks felt the sweat rolling down his spine under the battle armor. The light was too dim, the helmet lamp inside the suit didn't do squat, it was hard to see what was happening around them. The fried infared sensors weren't worth a damn, either. "Shut the frak up, Zuinn! Maintain your field of fire, we're gonna be fine!"

"Oh, frak, Corp, they got the sarge!" That from Jinzz, one of the other remaining death commandos. There had been twelve of them in the squad. Now there were four. "What are we gonna do?"

Vilks had one of the wounded in one arm, his blaster rifle in the other hand. The wounded trooper was moaning in pain. "Shut it up!" he said. "We're getting you back to the hangar bay, the assault teams have made a foothold. Everything's gonna be okay."

Eizz, bringing up the rear, swore in his native Rodian. "Oh, mon, oh, mon, where de 'ell did deese dings cum from?" the alien said in his bad basic.

It was a rhetorical question. Nobody knew. One minute, they were storming through five levels of the base peppering everything in their path, the next minute a whole compliment of droidekas raced out to meet them at the entrance of the sixth level, cutting their squad down in mere minutes. Now they were falling back.

Behind Vilks, Zuinn's blaster rifle came alive again, the sound of blaster bolts battering Vilks's ears with muted echoes.

"Zuinn!"

"There's a friggin load of'em behind us, Corp!"

"Shoot for targets," Vilks ordered. "Single fire only! We don't have enough power packs to waste on full auto suppressive fire!"

Ahead, the corridor branched to the lower level, but the pressure doors had come down and sealed both exits. A flashing light and klaxon blinked and hooted, and a computer-chip voice kept repeating a warning that the facility had been breached by the invaders.

They were going to have to cut their way out, fast, or get slaughtered by those insect-looking droids. Great.

"Jinzz, hold my baggage."

"Ungh!" the wounded trooper moaned again.

"I'm gonna open the door," Vilks said. He turned to the door. Pulled his plasma cutter from the belt of his battle-armored envirosuit, triggered it. The white-hot jet of plasma flashed out a line as long as his forearm. He shoved the cutter against the fail-safe lock, waved it back and forth. The lock was made of durosteel, but it wasn't designed to withstand the heat of a star. The durosteel annealed, bubbled, and ran like water under the plasma jet.

The door slid up.

In the corridor behind the door, ten destroyer droids rolled into view. They resembled gleaming metal wheels as they rounded a corner, smooth and silent in their approach. One by one they began to unfold, releasing tripods of spidery legs and stunted arms into which laser guns had been built. Crooked spines unlimbered, and the droids rose to a standing position, armored heads cocked forward. They were wicked looking and deadly, and they were built for one purpose only.

They triggered their laser guns, filling the open area with a deadly crossfire.

Jinzz screamed. One of the droids had peppered him with blaster fire.

The corridor was full of the things, Zuinn opened up, his T-21 concussion rifle on full auto, blasting. Armor-piercing and explosive rounds tore through the droids, the stink of ozone filled the air--

Einzz opened up with his blaster rifle, and a spray of blaster bolts scorched the corridor.

"Commander Davin!" Vilks cried through the comlink inside his envirohelmet. "Level Six has been compromised! Repeat! Level Six has been--"

Static...



"Zem...target is coming up. Get your gear ready," the voice came over the comlink in her helmet. "Shutting down all systems and playing possum."

"Copy that." Zem responded. She keyed in the code and the airlock hissed open, just in time before the systems aboard the captured pirate freighter shut down. With any luck, the merc patrols of the base will overlook the floating ship as another casualty of the war with the Black Dragon Empire and ignore it. Then again, they may just blast it just to keep the freighter from impacting with the asteriod base. It was all luck now.

If things went to plan, she would drift away from the craft, find an airlock, access it, and make her way to complete her mission. In due time, Davin and his team would meet up with her and secure the facility.

At least that is how the plan should go...

The men of the second assault wave had penetrated into the secondary hangar bays, and by now had established a beachead inside there as well, from which now was being ferried reinforcements. However, on the original beachead, things were not going so well. Even with the warning, the Droidekas had torn through the formations of BDE Death Commandoes, killing many before they withdrew a few levels. Admiral Harker, tired of the waiting, decided to go in for himself, and take a look on the original beachead.

"Have the Brummer come around the other side of the asteriod, and prepare to launch my personal shuttle. Security, detail ten of your best men to come with me." ordered Admiral Harker.

As he walked down the corridors towards the hangar bay, Admiral Harker stopped off at a nearby armory, to look for some good weapons that would be suitable for the occasion and task ahead of him. Looking through racks of weapons, he finally found what he was looking for, and something that would quickly take care of the droidekas. At that time the ten man detachment of security personnel arrived.

"See here, I want each one of you to pick up four of these Electro-Magnetic Pulse Emitters, and carry them to the shuttle. I will grab the spare power packs needed to charge and fire these things." ordered Admiral Harker.

The ten men replied their affirmatives, then moved to strap the weapons to each of their shoulders, then moved out with Admiral Harker carrying a box behind him filled with spare power packs. They reached the hangar bay quickly, and boarded the Lambda class shuttle.

Harker settled into a crash webbing seat along with the ten commandoes, and waited as the shuttle lifted out of the hangar bay of the Shoto cruiser, and headed towards the asteriod, and one hangar bay in particular were shuttles were constantly moving in and out of, ferrying in fresh food, and supplies, and carrying out dead and wounded..........

There was a lot of wreckage orbiting Vegresso Base.

During the several hours since the first traces of burning wreckage from the war, careless mercs, pilots, and repair crews had lost their lives, ships, and hardware due to floating debris and asteriods. The small debris, some of it whipping around at fifteen klicks a second relative, could punch a nasty hole in anything less dense than full-sheath armor, and that included people inside a ship coming or going to aide in the battle. Even a chip of twisted metal could dig a crater when it hit. While this was a danger to the merc and pirate ships, most of the little stuff was vaped when detected by Vegresso's platform gunner patrol; what didn't was collected by special droid rigs to be collected into the garbage scowls.

This is why the gunner station named Vegresso One hung upon a high platform over Vegresso Base, starlight glistening on its armored hull, its crew of two observing as their sensors moved in to tag a derelict freighter. The scopes said this heap was about to start its fall toward the base, and before that happened, the thing had to be probed, checked for anybody who might still be alive in it, then blasted into pieces small enough for the droid rigs to collect.

"Probe ready to launch," a rugged pirate tech named Buno barked out.

Next to him, the merc in charge, Kruge, nodded. "Stand by and... launch probe."

Buno touched the control. "Probe away. Telemetry is green. Visuals on, sensors on, one-second burn."

The tiny droid ship rocketed toward the battered freighter, feeding electronic information to the gunner station.

"Looks like one of ours," Buno said.

"Seems like it," Kruge replied. Buno kept his eyes on the computer flat screen.

The probe's retros flamed as it reached the hulk. "Here we are. Is that good flying through these asteriods or what?"

Kruge grunted. "Look at the hatch. It's open."

"Evacuation, you think?" Buno said.

"Dunno. Get the droid inside."

Buno tapped at his keyboard. The probe droid extruded an arm and clamped itself to the hatch.

"Knock, knock. Anybody home?"

"Go see. And try not to bang the droid up too bad this time."

The tiny probe droid moved in through the opening in the derelict freighter. The lumas lit as it moved into the ship. The interior was empty.

"Seems the crew left, but the escape pods are intact. Odd." Buno said. "I'll get the droid to check the ship's registration." He touched a control and the visuals enhanced and enlarged. A small plaque was mounted on the bulkhead in etched letters: Black Pearl, it said.

"Damn, its her. Big man sent her out to get help right when the BDE dropped in on us." Kruge said.

"Then why didn't she register on our scopes as the Black Pearl?" Buno inquired.

"Never mind, that. I'm sure big boss wants to see the ship's logs. Maybe we can find out what happened." He peered to the tech. "Get it to a scomplink inside the ship and dump the memory. We can then pull the droid so we can blow this sucker. We got a war going on and I don't want to waste anymore time than necessary."

Buno nodded. "Acknowledged. You're the boss."

The probe connected to the control board. The ship's power was almost gone, but sufficient to download the memory.

"Coming in," Buno said. "Ship's log now onscreen."

The viewscreen went blank.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! The thing just went out!"

"Get that thing out of there. We lose another probe and the big man will chew our asses to pulp. Its bad enough we have an incursion on our base."

Buno touched a button. The droid retraced its path and brought itself back out from the freighter.

"It's clear," Buno said a moment later. "Burning more fuel than it should, though."

"Maybe it snagged on something coming out. Doesn't matter."

"Probe docking. Outer hatch open. Let me see if I can get an eye on the damn thing and see why it's wallowing so bad." Buno ran his practiced hands over the controls.

"Oh frak!" Kruge said.

Buno just stared. What the hell was that? Someone... something sat on the probe as it approached the ship. It looked humanoid. Wait, it had to be some kind of suit, a spacesuit of some kind but it was encased in black armor. No way anyone could live in vac without a suit--

"Close the hatch!" Kruge said.

"Too late! It's inside."

"Pump the air out! Blow it back through the @#%$ door!"

A clang vibrated through the platform. Like a hammer smashing metal.

"It's trying to open the inner hatch!"

Frantically Buno tapped controls. "It's a foothold situation! I'm going to inform--"

Something exploded, ringing loudly. Then came the sound spacers fear more than anything: air rushing out.

"Close the outer hatch, dammit!"

But the dropping air pressure tugged at Buno. The room was filled with loose items being sucked toward the rear of the platform. Datapads, recording rods, a flimsiplast magazine fluttering madly. He lunged at the controls, missed the emergency button, lunged again. Kruge, also half out of his chair, stabbed at the red button, but missed. The hull pressure raced toward zero. A hatch-sized hole blew air into space real damned fast. Buno's eyes bulged, began to bleed. One eardrum popped. He screamed, but found the control for the external hatch.

The outer hatch cycled shut. Emergency air tanks kicked on. The faux gravity pulled the two pirates back toward their seats. "Dammit! Dammit!" Kruge said.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's closed!"

"Vegresso Base, this is gunner station One!" Kruge began. "We have a situation here!"

"Oh, frak!" Buno said.

Kruge twisted.

The armored figure in black stood there holding a Wyvern laser rifle, breathing through its envirohelmet. It triggered its weapon.

It couldn't be. This couldn't be real.

Slugs and blaster bolts ripped chunks out of Buno's seat as they nailed him point blank. Blood sprayed as the shells punctured his body so fast Kruge could hardly see it. Buno screamed in total terror.

The figure turned toward Kruge. He drew a breath to scream, but the sound never came out--

At that instant the Black Pearl smashed into the side of the asteriod, exploding upon impact with Vegresso Base. More klaxons screamed. The viewscreens inside the gunner platform washed white.

Zem Renneyn looked at the commando team behind her shoulder. "Let's go," she ordered, breathing through her envirosuit. "We got big fish to kill. With that big noise heard, they are sure to send some foot patrol this direction..."

The Shuttle set down gently inside the docking bay of the asteriod, and Harker got up to debark from the shuttle along with the ten commandoes next to him. As they exited the shuttle they took note of what they saw. Other fuctional ships in the hangar bay consisted of three Sentinel Assault Shuttles, one just landing with fresh food, and supplies, along with ten mantienence droids that would be used to help get the part of the base captured fuctioning again. Two other shuttles were being loaded with Farfalen and BDE dead and wounded. Ten men killed by the Droidekas, and two killed by sporadic blaster fire, along with forty wounded, were the ones being loaded. Other places in the hangar bay, sat one YT-2000 Corellian Transport with it's engines disassembled, it's hull plates showing signs of battle damage from a recent counter with anti-smuggling forces of some kind. Also in a state of disrepair were three Incom T-65 X-wings, the rust on their hulls, and holes and mold on them indicating that these were left over from the Imperial attack decades before when it was used as a Repair Yard for Rebel Alliance Starfighters. Then Harker sighted their next destination, a tunnel carved out of the asteriod.

They set off at a brisk pace, headed for the upper levels were the Droidekas were reported to be in. They passed numerous hodgepod nursing stations set up to deal with the dying and wounded of Farfalen. Early estimates that as of right now, sixty five Commandoes have been killed, and two hundred twenty have been wounded. Pirate casualties are in the hundreds killed and wounded/captured. Finally, they reached their destination. Rounding a corner, they ran straight into a Droideka that was guarding the corridor. The Droideka fired as Harker and his entourage dove for cover. One Commando to a shot to the leg, and crawled into a nearby room to patch himself up. Harker charged his Electo-Magnetic Gun to full power, then whipped around the corner, fired it at the Droideka, and retreated back into cover as all the lights in the corridor temporarily dimmed. Looking back into the corridor, the Droideka was spasming, pouring sporadic blaster fire into the walls to the left of the droid. A grenade thrown by one of his commandoes finished the job, spraying droid parts all over the corridor.

Stepping through the corridor, they found an engineer team of ten pirates trying to cobble together a defense system in the next corridor over. Two Commandoes fired an autocannon that eliminated the pirates in five seconds, and a couple of blasts with his personal DL-44 Blaster Pistol ruined the circuitry of what was going to be a somewhat concealed remote controlled E-web. Admiral Harker had to give the pirate inguenity for their inventivness. The only other thing he could give them, unfortuantley, was death.

Next corridor over, his team managed to shoot two Droidekas while they were still rolling, turning them into metal tires of sorts bouncing around the corridor. Another grenade finished those two off. Admiral Harker sent a message to General Grevious, informing him that all the Droidekas had been eliminated in corridor three, and that he was proceeding to secure the area around the Pirate's command center.

A merc trooper strolled down the corridor, the faux gravity making it feel almost like a walk through a building on his homeworld, despite the base shuddering again from another explosive. He passed the first check station, flashed his luma into a couple of recesses the overheads didn't show, then spoke into the comlink, directly to the computer's recording rod. "This is Tor on partrol, corridor twelve, 1230 hours." He rattled off his serial number, the direction he was going, and his findings: "Inspection so far reveals no stress cracks and no infiltration. Seems whatever collided with us, the shields took care of the brunt of the impact."

This sucked, having to patrol and inspect. What did they make droids for? The things could see better, move faster, and they didn't care if they were missing a good sabacc game while they did it, either. This was make-work. He should be over where the action was, where it really mattered. Their base was under attack and here he was, sent out on patrol to investigate some freighter impacting on the other side of this rock. Stupid.

Tor moved along, shining his luma into dark spots along the corridor, finding what he expected to find: nothing.

As he reached the aft quarter of his intended loop, he heard something. A faint, voicelike sound. He stopped. Sounded like it was coming from the number four cargo hold.

The merc pirate hesistated. All patrol inspectors were supposed to do was check the base for damage, and not go poking into closed compartments. Whatever it was, it wasn't his business.

The sound came again. Almost like somebody talking very quietly.

Well, what the hell, he was curious. Might as well check it out, it could very well be an infiltration or some of the base crew having a one-night stand inside it.

He moved to the sliding door to the cargo area, thumbed the open pad. He moved through the cargo area, rounded one of the stack-boxes and halted. There was someone there, right in front of him. The figure had its back turned, Tor couldn't ID it.

"Hey," the merc began, lifting his weapon slightly, "what are you--?"

That was as far as he got. The figure spun and then Tor felt a tremendous pain lance his throat, as if somebody had stabbed him there.

"Uhhh!" Tor sucked air, felt it impeded, reached for his neck. Felt his hands touch something wet and hot extending from his throat. As big around as his thumb, all the way through!

He tried to yell, found his voice wouldn't work. All he could manage was a wordless groan. The sound turned to a gurgle as warm liquid ran down his damaged windpipe. "Mmmm! Aaugh!"

He didn't recognize the woman inside the envirosuit who had done it, but he couldn't say anything about it, either.

Something slammed into his solar plexus, and what air the merc had was stolen. He... couldn't... breathe!

He bent forward, pulling at the spike through his neck. It started to move, despite the slippery fluid coating it.

Then something smashed his head and it all went gray...

"Quickly! Stuff him into that maintanance suit and flush him out!" Zem whispered.



In the command center of Vegresso Base, the merc tech monitoring base systems cursed. The pirate manning the comm and feeding stellar coordinates into his console for the defending merc fleet, glanced over. "What?"

"I show the aft number two interior lock open."

The pirate glanced at his own board. "Yeah, I see it."

The tech said, "Is there someone supposed to be there? I wasn't advised."

"That's a negative. Nothing on the board. Call the nearest squad in that area and find out what the hell is going on."

"Copy." The tech spoke into his throat comlink. "This is Vegresso Base Control. Who opened the inner door there?"

The tech waited. Nobody responded.

"I say again, this is Vegresso Control. Respond, whoever is in lock A-2."

Nothing.

"Where is the holocamera?" the pirate asked.

The tech's hands danced over the controls. "I'm not getting a signal from the monitor in the lock."

"Dammit! Call the regent and find out what's going on! We may have another foothold."

"Regent Xhens, this is Vegresso Control, do you read?"

The pirate looked at his own board. "Frak! Where the hell is he?"

"Maybe he bit it, the BDE may have taken him down," the tech said nervously. "Hello?" The base shook again from another volley inside its corridors.

"I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to give the evacuation signal," the pirate said. "We're losing everyone and I sure as hell don't need to be here when the BDE blasts through those doors. I'm going to override and seal the blastdoors."

"Affirmative that," the tech said. The pirate worked a control.

From a viewport, the image of a figure in a maintanance spacesuit tumbled slowly in their field of view, brightly lit by the outside floodlights.

"Who the hell is that? What is he doing out there?"



Tor awoke.

What?

His throat!

He reached for it, found the ribbing of the suit with the gauntlet. He was in vac, zero gee, in a suit. Fluid from his wound floated up and clouded the suit's visor. Frantically, Tor tried to speak. To call for help.

"Ungh! Gaugghh!"

He couldn't make words.

He twisted his head, trying to see where he was.

There, there was the base, but it was moving away!

He reached for the tool belt, looking for a squirt can, to push himself back to safety. The tool belt was empty.

Panic gripped him in cold fingers. He coughed, choking from the wound in his throat. He was going to die!

No, wait! They'd spot him. They'd send somebody out for him, it would only be a couple of minutes at the most. He'd be okay. They could patch him up--

Something drifted in front of his face. At first his obscured vision wouldn't let him see just what it was. He pulled his head back as far as it would go, blinked serveral times. A small sphere, about the size of a namana fruit, floated up against the plate. He slowly turned and the base's lights angled across his faceplate, giving him a better view. The sphere had blinking lights on it--

The coldness stabbed the merc pirate all the way to his bones.

The sphere was a thermal detonator. And the blinking lights were going faster.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

"Nnnooo!" Finally, he managed a word.

It didn't help. He was going to--



The hull pickups polarized as the blast of light washed over them and the spacesuited figure shattered soundlessly into fragments. Body fluids crystallized almost instantly in the cold vacuum, spraying into frozen, colorless, gauzy clouds against pinpoints of distant stars and floating asteroids. Pieces of suit and flesh tumbled away, some hit the base's armor harmlessly.

In the Vegresso command center, the tech said, "Oh, man..."

The pirate merely nodded. What a way to die. He wondered if the guy knew what hit him. He hoped not.

The blastdoors began to sound with blaster fire. They were coming...

As soon as she and her team went through the door of the command center, Zem raised her weapon, ready to face anything. The bright beams of blaster fire lanced out from between the doorway, catching one of her troopers by the faceplate. The commando fell back and slumped to the floor, dead.

She took in the room: A fat human sat in a chair against the far wall: probably one of the leaders. A pair of Quarren scrambled for their holstered blasters. The Trandoshan merc pirate already had his out, and now he fired it. The rest of the command crew scrambled behind computers, desks, and tables, arming themselves. One of them, another human, raced out from the room into an adjacent one to escape.

Zem spun her body and angled herself slightly. The bolt bounced from the bodyarmor and ricocheted into the nearest Quarren, striking him on the thorax. The Quarren collasped. More panic fire and screams were heard. Blaster fire erupted again. The assassin and the rest of the commando team spun their wyvern blaster rifles and began firing into the command center. The Trandoshan took the blaster shots in the face and chest. He went down, twitching in his death throes, his face a blackened ruin of flesh and scales, at the horried fat man's feet, who cowered behind a desk.

The battle had begun and ended far too quickly for the fat pirate to even think about running. He cowered behind the desk, hands uselessly raised to ward off danger. He didn't even have a weapon.

Zem turned toward the terrified pirate. A pungent reek became noticeable over the stench of death in the command center. The fat man's bladder had let go its contents.

"In the name of the Black Dragon Empire," Zem Renneyn said, raising her wyvern blaster rifle to his head. "You are ordered to surrender your forces and stand down."

The pirate could not speak in cowardice, but he managed a nod.

"Where are the others?" Zem spat.

"I don't know," he said. "They all left. The evacuation code has been given."

Her boot slammed into his ribs.

"Where?!"

"Docking Bay Four. They're leaving for Tahlboor!" he cried out.

Zem smiled. She had all the information she needed to give chase. "Excellent. You have been most coorperative."

The fat pirate looked up from his supine position. There was an instant of hope in his eyes, but it died when he read his fate in Zem's expression.

She cocked her weapon. "Time to die," she said.

"Wait!" The pirate's voice was a bleat of fear. "I can help you-- I can give you information! They plan to regroup on the planet! Please--"

A blaster bolt was heard. She watched his body crumple to the floor.

"To Docking Bay Four. Admiral Harker will be here any minute to clean up the rest of this mess." She nodded to her troops and they quickly moved out.



Zem Renneyn moved through the base's dimly lit corridors with great care, ready to shoot anything that moved. A door opened and an old Rodian started to step out, saw Zem with her finger tightening on the trigger, and launched himself back into the room, slamming the hinged door behind him.

She managed to keep from blasting him, though just barely. Any kind of noise will alert the escaping pirates.

This could be a problem, she reflected. There didn't seem to be much choice but to continue her search. She then saw the faded docking bay number on the side of a doorway. Her team moved in quick.

"Wait!" she whispered through the comlink in her battle suit. "I'll go in alone. Stay here. It could be a trap." The black envirosuited figure stepped through into the tiny hangar bay.

Several ships had already launched from the bay with only one remaining. One of the main pirate leaders was gathering his things to load onto the Lambda shuttle. Zem moved in with her weapon raised.

"Drop it!" came her voice from behind the pirate.

Zem had the wyvern blaster rifle aimed at the pirate's heart and if he made any sudden moves, she was going to carve it out of him.

The man grinned as he let his travel pouch fall. He looked like some of the psychotics Zem had seen in the lockdown section of the prison camp, back on Saheelindeel. He was bald, menacing, and was muscled from head to toe.

"Well, well. What have we here? You the BDE's mascot?"

"Stay real still."

"You can't be one of those ugly Dameuns, you're too pretty. Crew smuggle you onboard for fun and games, maybe?" He slid a half step toward her, hands outstretched wide, trying to look harmless.

"Another step and I put a hole in your chest," she said.

"Come on. Sweet little thing like you? You don't want to kill me. Think about what I am worth to your BDE higher-ups. I have valuable information to give them. Our cells, Tion rebel connections, our hiding places. After all, I am the one in charge of Vegresso Base." He slid another half step forward.

Zem swallowed, her mouth dry. So this pirate is the leader of the entire Vegresso Base operation. The one responsible for coordinating this entire defense and attack. He could be valuable to Admiral Harker and General Grevious, plus his hands were in the air. Vaping him would be easy, but the question was should she? The debate spun in her head.

Zem shuffled back a step. "I'm telling you to stop right there."

From the corner of her eye, a figure in another battle envirosuit emerged through the doorway. She recognized through the faceplate it was Kix Davin! He had made it inside alive!

She glanced at him. A mistake.

As soon as her attention left the pirate leader, he leapt. God, he was fast! Zem pulled the trigger on the rifle, but he was already twisting, dropping under the line of her fire. Half a dozen blaster shots shattered a computer console, the noise was awful, lights flickered as the power surged and shorted in the plugged console--

She tried to realign the weapon but too late. He hit her above the knees, and she did a half flip forward and landed on her back--

"Stupid @#%$!" he said as he rolled up and caught Zem by the shoulders. "Point a damn rifle at me!" He snatched her from the floor and threw her against the bulkhead of the small hangar.

Zem went gray as her head slammed against the wall. Even as she bounced off, he was on her, one hand grabbing her suit, the other smashing her faceplate. "I don't need a weapon, you stupid @#%$, I could tear your throat out with my fingers, suit or no suit!" He punched it again, shattering the plate and making contact to her face. Zem felt a tooth cut the inside of her lip. Blood sprayed from her mouth as he punched her the third time. He shoved her back against the wall, lifted her feet clear of the deck by the folds in her suit. Pulled his DL-44 from his holster. Grinned like a maniac.

"But I don't dirty my hands on BDE scum like you."

As he raised his blaster to kill her, Zem saw a blur behind him. She couldn't stop her gasp.

The pirate tried to turn, but she locked both her hands around the wrist of the hand he held her with. It slowed him enough so that Davin hit him with one shoulder just above his hip. Zem felt her suit tear as the pirate was knocked away.

She fell to the floor and scrambled on all fours.

Toward the wyvern blaster rifle where it had fallen. Five meters. Four. Three--

The pirate roared and Zem twisted enough to see him. He had lost his blaster, but he was up and diving for it.

Two meters to the wyvern. One--

"I'll kill all of you!"

Davin was sprawled on his side, pushing himself along with only his left foot. Toward the pirate.

Zem reached the rifle. Grabbed it. Rolled onto her back. Wouldn't be time to get to her feet--

The pirate's blaster went off, but she was rolling and she felt the bolt hit the deck where she had just been. No time to aim. She pushed the rifle out as if it were her fist punching and pulled the trigger. The fire selector must have been jiggled when the rifle had fallen. It went off once. Zem, expecting full auto, couldn't figure it out. She held the trigger back, waiting for more fire. Nothing. She'd have to let go and pull it again, she realized. Oh frak!

But one was enough.

The round from the rail gun, encased in the wyvern blaster rifle, caught the pirate just below the shoulder of his gun arm. Blew a hole through him. Zem saw him tumble, the blaster falling from his nerveless fingers. The entry wound was the size of her fingertip, but when he fell she saw the exit wound, high on his back, was as big as her fist.

The blaster pistol slid two meters away from the fallen man's fingertips. He raised his head, saw the pistol, crawled for it. Stretched his good hand out for it.

Zem came up, rifle held ready, and jumped for the pistol. Kicked it across the hangar. Pointed the rifle at the downed man.

"Stupid @#%$ @#%$!" he said. He reached for something at his waist.

"Don't move!"

"@#%$ you." He slid his left hand into a vertical slit on his spacer jacket over his right hip. She saw him smile as he gripped it.

"Zem!" Davin yelled.

"Stop!" she screamed.

He started to pull his hand out--

She squeezed the trigger.

The explosion was loud in the enclosed hangar, it lapped against the rock walls and splashed back at her. The smell of ozone filled her nostrils. Her ears rang.

The blaster bolt hit him square in the mouth. Chopped out some front teeth and blew the back of his head all over the deck and wall behind him. Whatever he had intended to do wasn't ever going to happen.

She bent, tugged his hand out. He death-gripped a thermal detonator. The trigger had already been snapped up and his thumb was on the detonate button. Carefully, Zem pried the explosive loose from the dead man's hand and turned off the trigger. The timer stopped and its lights blinked off. He would have blown them all up, wiped out the hangar, and caused a nice vacuum breach inside the base.

"It's over, Zem."

She looked at Davin, blinked as if she'd never seen him before. "What?"

"Harker just announced over the comlink. The show is over. We took the base intact. The remaining pirates and mercs have surrendered to the Black Dragon Empire," Davin informed. He offered a hand to her, panting slowly.

Zem took it, shook her head, and gathered her bearings. "And what of the others?"

"Grevious and Harker are going to regroup the remaining forces and make the jump to Tahlboor. They'll finish the job. Ours is done here." He lowered his gaze to his wrist chrono. "We're going to stay here and clean up. The fleet will return and rendezvous with us when the job is done."

She just nodded. "Okay."

Davin gripped her shoulders. "Relax, Zem. It's over. You took out the pirate leader. They're finished. You did good, soldier." He looked at her bloodied face and shattered faceplate. "Get to the medics and have that looked at."

She shoved past him and whispered. "It's never over... nothing is ever over..."

The small assault craft, its markings identifying it as a Kessel-class picket, knifed through starry blackness toward the emerald bright planet of Tahlboor and the cluster of Farfalen Shoto-class battleships that encircled it. The ships were huge, blocky fortresses, cylindrical in shape, round at one end and smooth throughout its hull. The bridge, communications center, and hyperdrive were encased inside this shell.

Armaments bristled from every port and bay, and Tion Deathgliders circled the big beasts like gnats. The general's transport, with it's quad-engines, curved body, and rounded-off bridge, looked insignificant in the shadow of the Black Dragon Empire's battleships, but it continued toward them, undeterred.

General Grevious stood at the forward bridge, his bridge officer's hands moving swiftly over the controls as they steered closer to the huge pyramidal space station with Tahlboor's viceroy insignia emblazoned on its hull. From time to time, the captain would glance uneasily at her scopes, and noticed activity already in motion over Tahlboor's orbit. A ship, Y-wing class, was already engaged with the Deathgliders, which were dispatched from one of the nearby capital ships.

She then noticed a small fleet of pirates flying away from the main flagship, cruising on an intercept course toward her. The captain tapped at her controls and activated the comm module. If things went sour, she would at least get out in time before the fleet could target the pirate ships. The female captain quickly ordered her comm officer to hail the battleship in front of her scopes, assuming it was the main flagship of the Farfalen armada.

On the small holoprojector in front of her, captured from his position on the bridge of the space station toward which she was headed, was the Troob Viceroy Mon Ray, his reddish-orange eyes staring out at her, unexpectedly. The Troob wore his perpetually sour expression, mouth downturned, bony brow emphasizing his discontent. His green-gray skin reflected the ambient lighting of the station, all pale and cold in contrast to his dark robes, collar, and small headdress.

The image flickered. "By order of the Troob and Hobor races here on Tahlboor, you are ordered to leave the system at once. We are in the middle of a very important diplomatic mission with the Tion emissary. There is to be no interruption of any sort during these delicate negotiations. If you do not comply, we will be forced to use any means to safeguard the security of this meeting."

The captain replied through the ship's comlink. "Spare me the threat, Troob. I was ordered by General Grevious to secure this planet from the threat of pirate attack. And from what I hear, you are haboring these pirates who are calling themselves emissaries to avoid being brought to justice." Her voice was deep and smooth, but the measure of resolution it contained was unmistakable. "If you do not coorperate with the forces of the Black Dragon Empire, we will have no choice but to hunt down and destroy these pirates by any means necessary. Planetary bombardment will be the first action on our part to secure the elimination of these criminals."

The Troob nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, of course. We would be happy to receive the Black Dragon Empire at their convenience. An escort is arriving toward you on an intercept course. Follow their lead to our hangar bay of this space station. A landing entourage will be prepared and waiting."

The image faded. The female captain nodded to her superior and ordered the navigation officer to veer the picket toward Tahlboor's space station. She watched silently as the planet loomed before her, filling the canopy with its forested surface, the Deathgliders quickly flanking her as they escorted her toward the space station that loomed ahead.



Seated across the table from the menacing presence of General Grevious, Viceroy Mon Ray took a sip from his cup, the Jeru tea carrying with it a hint of remembered bitterness and shame. Like most Troobs and Hobors growing up on their war-devastated world, the Tion rebellion had been the focus of all their hopes. They had been the last heroes of his people, the enigmatic soldiers still fighting to force justice for his world from uncaring, even hostile, officials of the Black Dragon Empire.

Only to learn that the rebellion were no longer the valiant soldiers of legend. They now resorted to allying with these pirates in order to survive. They were now thugs and pirates. Nothing more than thugs and pirates. Whoring themselves out to anyone with credits to the highest bidder under the flag of their rebellion.

The Troob sipped at his tea again, listening with half an ear as General Grevious prattled on, letting the memories fade. Now, several hours since aiding the capture of the pirates who escaped, the shame had faded to a dull ache in the back of his mind. Someday, he hoped, it would be gone altogether.

General Grevious lifted a hand, the tea kettle suddenly shattering into a thousand shards. Mon jolted back to his attention, narrowing his eyes through the veiled headress that concealed his face. That voice pierced his mind again.

May I suggest you pay attention to business at hand? The next time you distract yourself away, you will join the others... in death.

"Are we done then?" Mon spoke bluntly, setting down the tea cup upon the table. "Now that I helped you, will the Troob and Hobor races be left alone?"

"Yes. Of course. But only under rule of the Black Dragon Empire." Grevious nodded, his eyes darting around the conference room as if wondering which of the humans or aliens surrounding him might try an attempt on his life. "It has come to my attention that the pirates were hiding in the jungles of Tahlboor. We had them found and eliminated, per your aide."

"Very well." Mon nodded. "So this concludes our arrangement? We welcome the Black Dragon Empire to Tahlboor."

"Indeed," General Grevious said with precise firmness. "Whatever your planet needs, is granted... all provided by the Black Dragon Empire. Of course, your title will be stripped, only to be replaced with the title of governor with the assistance of our Imperium's aides to help you rule Tahlboor by our standards."

"As you wish," Vicerory Ray said briskly. "I'll need to return to my planet to announce my promotion. Send your leaders to the hangar bay, and we can get started." He rose from her chair and took a step back.

"Understood." Grevious nodded. The doors opened by themselves.

"And do not dare attempt to cross us..." the voice pierced again, as Mon stepped from the conference room...