This thread is to be a takeover of Camaas, Thyferra, and Ord Trasi, respectfully, and others depending upon the length the story reaches.

The door to the hospital room opened, letting the sterile white light of the cooridor outside spill in. The room itself was small - a Bacta tank stood in one corner with a figure suspended within it, and beside it the neccessary monitoring equipment and controls.

"She was brought here yesterday. She's taken well to the Bacta, so far... but there are some things that even that cannot reconstruct. She would be dead if she wasn't in the tank now."

The woman nodded, moving closer to the tank and brushing away the accumulated condesnation with her hand. The girl in the tank was hardly even her age, though how she appeared in the tank may have belayed that. Her face was torn and burned, and her body had been bruised and scorched by the explosion.

"Can she be saved?"

"By all rights, Ma'am, she should be dead. We arrived some days after the attack, and by all rights she should have died of her wounds before then. If we hadn't recieved your call before we found her, we would not have tried to save her. She is incredibly lucky to be alive."

"You didn't answer my question, Doctor."

The man shrugged, frowning.

"There's only a little bit that the Bacta can do. Even the premium stuff like this can't repair what isn't there, and she was hurt enough that some of her internal organs aren't there... she's on machinery for that stuff right now, but unless she wants to walk around with a cart of machines sticking out of her..."

He trailed off.

The woman nodded slowly.

"Keep her the best you can. There is someone I must speak with."

The Doctor nodded, frowning again as the woman left. The door slid shut once more, and he turned back to the tank.

"Keep her alive? What kind of life is this?"

For a moment, he eyed the power control for the tank. It would be a simple matter to say she had died of her own accord... but she was shrewd, shrewd enough perhaps to see past that.

No... it would be best to wait for her desicion.

Whatever IT may be.

The flagship of the Black Fleet emerged from hyperspace over Yaga Minor, her kilometres-long dagger-like profile filling the sky above the capital world and casting a shadow down upon her surface. Behind it came a collection of warships; some newly constructed from the shipyards at Bilbringi and others still her usual array of guides and escorts.

And, floating gently above her bridge tower, the similarly massive Reckoning, shorter only by the length of a Reign Class Star Destroyer (give or take a little). The world's civilian traffic scattered instantly from the path of these great ships, moving into the civilian lanes to which they belonged, as the Valhalla and her Commander moved into their positions above the fortress planet.

To those who were observant enough to catalouge it, a shuttle passed from one vessel to the other, and from there to the Space Station at the planet's Northernmost pole, the Epsilon defence grid endpoit otherwide known as Black One.

This shuttle landed without the fanfare of Ariel Trinity's earlier landing aboard the Reckoning, although now to of the regions great commanders emerged from her interior. Waiting they found Governor Fell, the portly man who was the civilian governor of Yaga Minor.

"Admiral... Captain. It is a pleasure to see you both again. We were greatly worried for both your safeties during the onslaught."

"You worried needlessly, then." Bhindi said curtly. "The Coalition and her allies had neither the sense nor leadership to pose any real risk to the Empire."

"I had heard... you were nearly captured at Abregado-Rae, were you not?"

Bhindi laughed.

"Hardly. I was not at Abregado-Rae when that fool assaulted the place. And if I had been, I assure you the world would not have fell. As it is, the Sovereignty suffered enough for their victory - they are villians in the eys of the world for their actions."

"Yes, indeed, Admiral. I am quite relieved to hear that you are well."

"Thank you, Governor. Now, if you do not mind the Captain and I have an important matter to discuss."

"Oh, of course, Admiral. I've prepared Conference Room 10 for your services. Just this way-"

"I know where the chamber is, thank you, Governor." Bhindi said, speeding up and leaving the small man behind.

"Yes... of course."

He stood their a moment, watching the eerie new Black-clad soldiers of the Ubiqtorate pass, and then turned back for his shuttle.

The door opened from the security cooridor, once more sending the shadows scurrying for cover as the bright white lights violated her santuary.

"Yuri." She said from her chair, not turning around. "Shut the door." The older man did so, cutting off the influx of harsh light and plunging the room back into its darkness. Indeed, the only light was coming from the system's single sun, which was passing out of the ship's orbit. On the surface, the sun was setting through the clear sky, turning the atmosphere red, gold, and purple.

"Thank you for coming so swiftly, Yuri." Bhindi Drayson said, rising and shaking the man's hand. "You've read the report, I presume?"

"I have, Admiral." Yuri replied curtly. Yuri Katarn (though few knew his family name) spoke with the same aristocratic accent of those born within Coruscant's Imperial Elite - yet Bhindi knew that he was neither born nor raised there. Yuri had been born on the world of Adumar, an out of the way world that was known only for the stereotyped hillbillies it produced.

"It was most interesting." The man's eyes seemed to gleam as he said this, and Bhindi nodded gravely. Yuri had convinced most of the Empire (at least, those he interacted with, and they were few) that he was an elite - but in fact he had been born poor, the fifth child of a woman who died when he was only seven. His father was a tradesman, making barely enough money for them to scrape by.

"Have you had time to develop a solution?" The Admiral asked, moving forward. There was a definate note of pleading in her voice, now, which no doubt Yuri would not fail to notice.

He nodded slowly.

Yuri had left his family to fend for himself at the age of eleven, building pieces of warships for the Imperial Navy. He was assigned the task of
capping coolant containers, which he did without complaint. Until, that is, a supervisor attempted to molest him. For his trouble, the man was killed, and Yuri hauled before an Imperial Justice Commision.

He escaped with his life, and went into hiding for several years. During that time, his father and brothers were killed by Imperial Stormtroopers for "rebel sympathies".

Yuri had little sympathy for his family - he was not sixteen, and had hardly seen his family since he left them five years earlier. He had been on his own since then, nothing was new now.

He lied about his age to enter the Adumar Defence Agency, and trained in tactics and covert operations. But it was immediatly obvious that Yuri's skills lie with machines, both building and using them.

He was shunted sideways to the Research and Development department, where he stayed until he was forty. At that time, the megacorporations of LFX Industrial was beginning to rise, and Seti Ashar hired him to cooridinate R&D for his company. Yuri developed several warships, many of which were to be seen in the LFX Home Defence Corps.

He went on to serve under Ashar in the Holy Demosthesian Empire, and when that Empire was destroyed by the Empire - that is, the New Order, he remained and was awarded command of the hypersecret R&D platform Arc Hammer, developing new weapons for the Empire.

Which is, in the end, what had brought him back to Bhindi Drayson.

"I have something. It is an experimental procedure... only 25% of the clones we have attempted it on have survived the procedure. And they were all in perfect health before we began."

Drayson nodded. A 25% chance of success... less than that, even.

"Can you do it now? Here?"

"I need merely summon the Arc Hammer. There I can perform the operation."

What else was left?

"Do it."

[font=Arial]Empress Teta

Since the introduction of Empress Teta to the Bhindi Drayson's Yaga Minor Protectorate some years earlier, the system had enjoyed a time of peace and prosperity. With the rebellion of Koros Major crushed by the Empire and order restored, the continued presence of a large Imperial fleet was no longer a necessity, and indeed for a time the only Black Fleet warships in the sector were the occasional vessels stopping over to take on supplies or pick up carbonite for transportation to the core. Indeed, for the citizens of Empress Teta, life went on much as it had, the Empire's presence little more than a small background hum.

As it was, the arrival of a large Imperial task force was unusual in the system. But it was only one event that followed another, even more unusual.

"I want a full sensor scan of the system. Give me everything you've got!" Commodore Mavrick shouted to his crew as the Marauder reverted to real space. A tall man, with slicked back black hair and a pristine Imperial uniform, he was a poster boy for Imperial Recruitment. "If anything is moving, I want to know about it. Launch rescue shuttles."

There was silence for a moment as the ship began to move forward, cutting through deep space at the midway point between Cinnigar and Koros Major. From this distance nothing could be seen with the naked eye save the planets themselves. But all the bridge crew could feel the chill as the sensor unit continued to beep rapidly, picking up more and more objects closer to the planet.

"Sir. I have those sensor scans." One of the lesser officers said at last. Maverick nodded. "On screen, please, Lieutenant."

The other man pressed a key, and the images began to appear on the main display monitors.

"Sweet Jesus." Somebody said.

"Contact Yaga Minor." Maverick said, catching his breath. "We have a situation."



Bhindi Drayson awoke to the general alert of a warship making a hyperspace jump into hostile space. It was a moment after her eyes snapped open that she recognized the alarm for what it was and stood, already pulling on her officer's jacket. Less than a minute later the door snapped open and she found Commander Deusvult Godridge, who handed her a mug and a datapad.

"What is it?" She asked, not looking at the datapad but taking a thankful sip of what turned out to be a sweet tea.

"We got an alert from the Marauder in the Empress Teta System." Deusvult said, striding with Bhindi towards the closest turbolift.

"Marauder." Bhindi repeated. "She's ERU." ERU was a designation for any ship not permanently assigned to a world. They were Emergency Response Units, assigned to major space lanes to monitor distress signals and respond with all means necessary. That an ERU ship should be in the Empress Teta System, much less be sending an alert from there...

"Another attack." She said softly. "How bad?"

"Pretty. They took out most of the defence fleet and hammered the surface pretty hard. They knew what they were up against - preliminary reports indicate that they outnumbered our forces two to one or better."

"What else do we know?"

"Not a lot. Reckoning jumped as soon as we received the report - we didn't wait around for details. Avatar and Gemini are with us, the rest of the fleet is on alert in all systems, in case there's another attack."

They were coming to the bridge now, and the traffic suddenly decreased as they passed into restricted sections of the ship.

"The same group?"

"From what we can tell. There's no much left to go by - they did a pretty thorough job with the place. But there should be some more information for us by the time we arrive."

They were in the security corridor now, the brightly lit walkway that separated the bridge from the rest of the ship and (in theory) prevented a hostile takeover of the ship's nerve centre. The bridge doors slid open, and in front of them they found Captain Ariel Trinity, already issuing orders.

"Admiral!" She saluted. "We have a situation."

"So I gathered, Captain. The Commander here," she indicated Godridge, "has filled me in. What else do we know?"

"We'll be dropping out of hyperspace in about three minutes... we'll find out then. But from what we know, they took out anything in orbit and then tried to smash the carbonite manufacturing facilities. Commodore Maverick - he's running the Marauder, first ERU unit on the scene - says they must have been mighty coordinated. By the time his ship got there there wasn't a sign of whoever did it."

Bhindi nodded.

"Either they're getting better, or we're getting worse. Repulse was in at Cinnigar two days ago - why didn't they hit her at the same time?"

Trinity shrugged.

"Hard to say for certain. There are certainly some ideas... first off that today was 'Death Day' in Empress Teta... a local holiday where they celebrate the Death of Empress Teta. It's a twenty-four hour event, so most of the defence personnel had the night off. Plus, we don't have any real Imperial Naval presence there - the fleet was run by a local, and undoubtedly he's not as able as anyone the Empire might have had. And they may not have been confident in their ability to take out an Imperator Mark II Star Destroyer. Even assuming they had the firepower - would they have had the time to take care of her before help showed up? It looks to me like they wanted a no-witnesses kind of thing. And they almost got it."

"They were scared off?"

"Evidently the defenders put up more of a fight than they had anticipated. They won, but it took them a few minutes longer than they expected. So they did a sloppier job than they might have done pummelling the surface."

“Captain, we’re two minutes from hyperspace terminus.” A voice came from the crew pit. Trinity acknowledged and turned back to the Admiral.

“We’ll find out more soon enough, I imagine.”

Soon they felt the ship slowing beneath them. The blue hyperspace tunnel vanished, to be replaced with the specks of distant stars, and the bright blue/green orb of Cinnigar just ahead of them.

“Sensors report ISD Marauder and several shuttles in orbit - we’re also reading a lot of non-uniform metallic debris.” The sensor operator reported from his post.

“Contact from Marauder - Commodore Maverick for Admiral Drayson or Captain Trinity.”

“On screen, Officer.” Bhindi said, standing so that the holocam would see her full body. There was a pause after the connection was made, and the man on the other end frowned slightly.

“Admiral Drayson.” He saluted, and Bhindi returned it in typical military fashion. “Imperial High Command has instructed me to inform you that until further notice, ISD Marauder is to be assigned to the Black Fleet under your command.”

“Very good, Commodore. I expect you aboard the Reckoning in thirty minutes with your report.” The other man nodded. “Reckoning out.”

Maverick’s hologram vanished.

“Commence a full system scan - I want full details on what’s here, orbit and dirt side. And get Yaga Minor to send the Scavengers out here. I want all this debris collected as soon as possible.”



Like the rest of the ship, the main conference room aboard the Reckoning was neither large nor glamorous. The ship was designed with combat in mind - either to supplement larger ships like the Venerator Command Destroyers, or to operate independently. The one thing her creators had not designed her for was command, and so her main conference room was sparsely decorated, a room for the ship’s captain to meet with the important crew members when it became necessary.

So it was that instead of meeting in the usual place, they met in the Captain’s ready room, a spacious apartment just below the bridge that served as Trinity’s chambers, office, and resting place. The central room, which held a great table of rare Kashyyyk wood (that was also, in design, her desk, though she kept another more modest one in a corner), was used to meet Commodore Maverick and his aide. With Bhindi, Trinity, Godridge, Maverick, and Tuvalu (his aide), the room was only a little cramped.

Maverick spent some minutes outlining in exacting detail his response to the distress signal, which was when Trinity broke in.

“Why didn’t we receive a distress signal? Our first indication of a problem was your report, once you arrived at the scene.”

“Yes. Cinnigar sent out an all points signal on secure frequencies - evidently someone higher up decided that this shouldn’t get out. At any rate, as soon as it was received by the Marauder and our automatic response was sent, they cut off the signal. We didn’t transmit a distress signal prior to jumping because we were unaware that they had stopped transmitting.”

“Irregardless, even had we known before we did, Marauder was closer to Empress Teta than we, and they didn’t arrive in time to change the course of the conflict.” Bhindi said. “Though I shall have to talk to the Admiral about policy… you say by the time you arrived you saw no sign of the enemy?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Which indicates that they knew both the location of the Marauder at the time of their attack, and the flank speed of an Imperator Mark II Star Destroyer in hyperspace. Clearly, we are not dealing with some ragtag Coalition remnant.”

A buzzing from the holocom unit on the wall interrupted them, and Bhindi swore.

“I asked not to be disturbed, bridge.”

The voice on the other end was a nervous one. “Yes, Admiral. But it’s important. We’ve received message. From someone claiming to be responsible for the attack.”

[/font]

Pain.

Unimagineable pain. As if she had stayed to close to a star and it had burned her body through. Floating in space, she could see the star, but its name escaped her. She twisted madly, trying to find some reference, something to tell her where she was.

She opened her eyes.

The room was dark, but still she felt the light stabbing into her mind, filling her with more pain than she ever could have thought possible. The light burned through her eyes, into her mind... and stopped.

Through the murkyness of the tank, she could see the room beyond. A hospital room, the same as that aboard any other Imperial warship. And with that she realized that she was not yet dead, but suspended in a Bacta tank.

Her mind reeled.

Slowly, the memories of the attack came back to her. The sound of her ship being stuck. The horror as the bridge was consumed in red flames. The screams of the crew as they died.

She understood.

Her ship was gone. Her crew was dead. And yet, she had been spared.

Spared.

But why? And how?

Darkness took her once more.

Two Weeks Later

Ysanne Isard's arrival on Yaga Minor was met with a lack of fanfare that, where the situation not as serious as it was, would have been sure to infuriate her. As it was, she was talking before the shuttle's ramp had even touched the ground. Obviously, the trip from her lair had not been wasted.

"He can't be alive. I've seen what Gevel did to Commenor - the fleet vaporized any living matter within a kilometre of the place. And he was definately there, I'd stake my career on it."

Which was about as sure as Ysanne Isard could get.

"The techs haven't gotten much out of the holograph. It was definately a broadcast, not a recording. But that's all they have."

"I wouldn't expect them to find much. It's a holograph, nothing more... What about the wreckage from the ship destroyed at Bilbringi."

Bhindi shrugged, producing the report filed by the engineers who had studied the scrap, and handing it to the older woman.

"It's a Demosthesian design. No clues as to where it was produced, but they say it was probably a small operation - lots of handwork."

Isard did not answer. She was reading through the report, talking to herself.

"Durasteel, alanatium, adanium... ahh. Fera Wood." The Intelligence Director smiled, her eyes glittering like a snake's might.

"Fera Wood? What about it?"

"These are all pretty readily available materials. Even if we knew the Adanium came from Questal, we wouldn't be any closer to knowing who built the ship. But Fera Wood comes from only once place."

"Caamas. But it's available off-planet." Bhindi said.

"Yes. But it's very expensive everywhere in the galaxy except for Caamas. The export fees are huge. And I can't imagine a rebel group springing to purchase large ammounts of Fera Wood for their ships. Not at the current prices."

"The Caamasi. Why should they be involved in building warships? They're supposed to be a peaceful people."

Isard shrugged.

"They are. For the most part. But try telling that to the Caamasi who are helping your friends build ships." The woman smiled, causing Bhindi to shudder. She was, she decided, all together evil. "Old hurts die hard. And some wounds never heal."

"They've waited a long time to exact their revenge. Why now?"

"More than likely because the Caamasi have finally come to their senses. Why it didn't happen years ago, I don't know. But it's happening now."

The room was silent for a moment.

"We've seen them before. Months ago, in the Unknown Regions. The same ships."

"When the Viscera was lost." Not a question.

"Yes." Bhindi said. "It was the same design that killed that ship. A Demosthesian design."

"That would certainly fit." The Intelligence woman returned. "But I still wonder, why now? And what business did they have in the Unknown Regions?"

"The answer to that might be found in the rubble of Caamas." Bhindi smiled thinly. "We may not have all the answers. But we can determine some of them yet."

Isard said nothing as Bhindi brought her comlink to her lips.

"Commander Godridge. Alert the fleet for action."

Her eyes seemed to shine as she turned back to Isard and said, "The Empire is at War."

Ten Weeks Later

"Welcome back, Captain."

It wasn't the words that took her off her guard. It was the voice behind them. It had been... how long since she'd heard that voice? She couldn't recall anymore. There was a lot that she couldn't recall.

With an effort, Trinity opened her eyes. The sterile white light of the hospital room overhwelmed her. She closed her eyes, welcoming the blackness that it revealed.

"It seems you've been spared."

She strained to remember where she'd seen the woman before. It was a long time ago. It felt like a long time ago. Yaga Minor... that was it. Just before being sent out into the Unknown Regions.

The Unknown Regions.

"Admiral." Trinity tried to say. It sounded more like a grunt.

"It will take her a while to adjust." Someone she did not recognize said. He wore a white lab coat and glasses. He looked like a Doctor.

Doctor...?

"Thank you, Doctor Stephenson. You can leave us now."

Trinity heard the sound of a door opening, and footsteps departing.

"Where... am I?" She asked.

"Imperial Centre." Came the response. "The finest medical facility the Empire has to offer."

A medical facility. That meant...

Trinity opened her eyes. Bhindi was there, sitting on a stool a meter or so from the bed. It was, at least, a private room, with no crowding of beds and moaning patients.

"How long..."

"...have you been here. Two months. But to be fair, you were treated on the Valhalla for a month. Until you were stable enough to be brought here for recovery."

"Three months." Trinity repeated. "I have no memory..."

"No. That was one of the side effects. We managed to protect everything up to about an hour before the injury, but between there and today, you won't remember a thing."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry."

"Side effect? Of what?"

But that was all that Bhindi would say about it.

"The Doctors say you're growing stronger. They want to hold you for another week, to observe your recovery. If all went well, the Bacta will have done the rehabilitation for you."

She got up to leave. But Trinity's curiousity was not satisfied yet.

"Admiral... Bhindi... What happened?"

But the Admiral just smiled.

"Count yourself lucky, Captain. You were very close to dying. I have to return to Yaga Minor... I've arranged for you to be transported there as soon as you wish to."

The door opened, and she was gone.

“Hyperspace terminus, Captain. Stealth mode engaged.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Gaford. Return to your station.” The officer, solemn faced, saluted and walked smartly back to his seat. “Helm, bring us on a heading of point twenty-two. Three quarters speed.”

With all the grace of a ship that was termed capital by only a handful of meters, the Shroud moved forward, cutting through the blackness of space even as Caamas grew larger in the forward viewports.

“Captain! Sensors indicate civilian traffic abeam to starboard! Less than a kilometre!”

Captain Sara took his eyes from the viewport, turning to the officer who had shouted, pursing his lips.

“Lieutenant Ferald. Stand.” The young man did so, looking around at the other members of the bridge crew, all of whom were shaking their heads.

“This is an Imperial Warship, Lieutenant. Not only a warship, but one of the finest in the Imperial Navy. And on a warship, reports are not routinely shouted across the bridge towards their intended recipient. Do I make myself clear?”

The young man nodded.

“I am aware, Lieutenant, of the ships to our starboard side. More than that, their presence is irrelevant. At our present course, we should avoid them by a margin of more than three hundred meters. We are invisible to them. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Return to your station.”

Sara sighed, removing his officer’s cap and wiping the sweat from his brow. Thirty years in the Imperial Navy had taught him the value of disciplined officers. Nearly all of the bridge crew of the Shroud were experienced fleet officers, on the board for promotion but instead shifted, at his personal request, into the Shroud Division. Serving on any one of the stealth ships in the Ubiqtorate required what on any other ship would qualify an officer for a Majority, or better. As it was, the Shroud Division was not even officially recognized by the Navy. It was, though, a position of honour unparalled, save perhaps for service aboard the massive Eclipse Class Star Destroyer that was the Regent’s flag.

Ferald was young. Barely out of teens, with all the experience that implied. And he had been selected, by Moff Drayson no less, to serve on Sara’s ship. The indignity of having to loose one of his best officers was only intensified in the face of that man’s replacement.

Nonetheless, they had a mission to complete here. It would take more than one bad officers to forfeit the Shroud Division’s first deployment in nearly a year.

“Helm, slow to one quarter. Bring us port five degrees and prepare to orbit the planet. Sensors, give me a full scan of the surface. I want a full report on my desk in one hour. Power readings, activity centres, likely production facilities, the works. Lieutenant Gaford, you have the bridge.”

Turning, the Captain palmed the bridge door controls, allowing them to slide open. Unlike most ships of the Imperial Navy, no Stormtroopers stood on guard on the other side of the doors. The design of the Shroud did not allow enough room to carry soldiers.

Once in his quarters, Sara removed his uniform jacket and hung it carefully in the closet. He then pulled the rank cylinder from the breast pocket, and deposited it with his service pistol and datapad on the dresser, along with his chronometer and the wedding band he still wore.

Then, with the sigh of an old man nearing the completion of his duty, he lay down in the bed and fell asleep.

The Captain was woken, barely an hour later according to the chronometer on the wall, by the wailing of the ship’s general alert. The lights had gone out, replaced by the eerie red glow of emergency lighting, and the siren was still ringing when the Captain, all of his items returned to their proper positions on his body, palmed the bridge doors and entered.

“Report!” He called instantly, moving to the command chair and seating himself, pulling the screens towards him and bringing up the tactical display.

“We’ve been discovered, Captain.” Gaford said, saluting hastily. “A freighter came out of hyperspace on our aft, claiming damage to her core. She was on a collision course with us, and at her present speed she would have struck us. I ordered turbolaser one to fire on the freighter, and she was destroyed. But someone saw our shots, and now they’re commencing a search of the system for us.”

“Fuck.” The Captain pushed the displays away from him, staring out the viewports. The ruin of the freighter was still visible, floating along almost parallel to the Shroud. “Navigation, prepare an exit vector. Helm, bring us about on the course Nav will give you. Ready on the guns, we may not be out of here yet.”

Already ships were launching from the surface. Caamas was a non-military planet, but that meant by no means they were useless to defend themselves. A number of armed ships were sweeping the area behind the stealthship, and if the look of those incoming was to be believed, they were a planetary militia of some kind as well.

“Captain! Hyperspace reversion in sector four. Capital class warships, three of them.”

Indeed, bearing down on their present location (almost as if they knew where the Shroud was) where three ships. Each was no more than 300 meters, but alone any one of them could destroy the Shroud, should their cloaking systems be compromised.

Before anyone could react, turbolaser fire was racking the ship, slamming into her shields and heeling her over with such force that the internal compensators could do nothing to stop those unfortunate enough to be standing to be thrown against the nearest bulkhead.

“Lieutenant Gafford! Prepare to drop cloak and engage main drives. All batteries target the lead ship, let’s see if we can bloody her nose a bit.”

It happened in seconds. On the Captain’s order, the Shroud blinked into existence, the sensors of every vessel in the system going crazy as a ship appeared in their midst. At the same moment, she unleashed as fury of turbolaser bolts and missiles in the direction of the lead Caamasi ship. Those ships had, in the same time, launched their own attack, and for a minute or more space between them was filled with green and red, and the yellow-orange of explosions, and the two sides clashed.

Then the Shroud was into the shipping lanes, her turbolasers firing aft as fast as they could recycle, and the enemy not daring to respond for fear of hitting the freighters that the running vessel had surrounded herself with.

“Nav! Let’s have that exit vector now!”

“Done. Helm, bring us to zero point three four. All speed.”

The ship turned, dodging an armed freighter that had, realizing the situation, let loose with all her guns. The shields flickered, and the hull groaned as shots struck home, before the Shroud had manoeuvred from the path of the other ship and was clear of the shipping traffic.

“Three minutes to hyperspace, Captain.”

There was an explosion, roaring through the bridge, and all there thought that the ship was certainly lost. Then it was gone, and behind them they saw the wreckage of the freighter that had fired upon them. Closing with the Shroud, it had received a full broadside from the ship’s missile tubes and exploded spectacularly, taking with it what was left of the smaller vessel’s shields.

“Enemy ships closing, Captain. Estimated two minutes until they’re in firing range.”

And three minutes from hyperspace. Without shields, the Shroud was certainly be destroyed or disabled before it could make the jump.

“Lieutenant Gaford, arm the self destruct mechanism. We will not be taken alive.”

“One minute, Captain.”

Behind them, the enemy ships were firing.

“Long range shots.” Someone said. “With shields, they wouldn’t even hurt us.” A terrific shudder as the hull was breached somewhere in the stern cut the man’s words off.

Then, in front of them, a shape resolved itself. Coming out of hyperspace directly in front of the Shroud and firing even before it was clearly visible.

“Evasive manoeuvres!” Sara shouted, seeing the turbolaser fire begin to pour out from the new ship.

It was a moment before he recognized the graceful lines of the Reckoning, and collapsed with relief into his command chair. The massive Imperial warship was firing, her green turbolaser fire tearing through the chasing vessels and ripping them to shreds. In less than ten minutes, the chase was over, the Reckoning closing with the planet and already broadcasting terms of surrender.

“Damage report, Lieutenant.” Sara said, smiling at their luck.

“Shields are out, multiple hull breaches. We’ve lost sixty percent of our power.” Indeed, the Shroud had slowed, the whine of the engines growing higher as they struggled to power the vessel along.

“But we made it. Return self destruct to its default position. Hail the Reckoning, with thanks.”

* * * * *

An hour later, with the arrival of a legion of Imperial Star Destroyers, order was beginning to be enforced upon the surface of Caamas. The fleet locked the system down, travel being restricted by the presence of the Reckoning and her gravity well projectors. Under such a siege, the people of Caamas had little choice but to allow the landing of troops and the takeover of their world by the Empire.

Those that chose not to resist were allowed to remain living where they had been, save for a few who were removed to make room for the new Imperial garrison forces. Bases were established, and by the time Moff Drayson was ready to land, the planet had been subjugated to a large degree.

The shuttle docked briefly with the crippled Shroud, removing Captain Sara, before heading to the surface, escorted by two full squadrons of TIE Defenders.

“Captain. You are to be congratulated on your escape.” Bhindi said, as the shuttle cleared the clouds and emerged into the blue sky of Caamas.

“I doubt that, Admiral. Were it not for your timely intervention, we surely would have been destroyed. The enemy had us outgunned by a large margin.”

“They did. And yet you nearly made it to safety. I wonder, indeed, if you might have made it even without our arrival. You have a very good crew, Captain.”

The shuttle shuddered slightly as the pilot switched from sublight engines to repulsorlifts, and they heard the whine as the wings began to fold for landing.

“Thank you. I have worked hard to make them who they are.”

“It would have been a shame to lose them. But you are all here now, or very nearly. Tell me, did you recognize the ships that gave you such a run?”

The Captain shook his head.

“No. I assumed them to be a Caamasi design. Though they looked very Imperial in nature. To me, at least.”

“You are quite perceptive, Captain. They are of the Holy Demosthesian Empire. Or rather, they were. An old design, cancelled by the Empire for their expense”

“Demosthesian? But what would they be doing with Caamas?”

“That, Captain, is precisely what we are here to determine. Caamas may yet hold the answer to all the riddles.”

The Caamasi people were, by nature, a peaceful one. Dating back to before the days of the Empire they had strived for peace, and indeed had been an example for Alderaan after the Clone Wars. It was something like irony, then, that these planets were the first to be destroyed in the Empire’s rise to power.

Caamas had been dormant for some time, untroubled by the affairs of the galaxy that went on around it. The wars of Darth Phantom, of Regent Exocron, Grand Admiral Thrawn, Simon Kaine, and Chadwick Fearsons. For the most part, Caamas had not troubled itself in the affairs and wars of others.

Which made it strange indeed that they should choose now to come into the open with their anger, though to direct it at the Empire was no surprise. It was more than half a century ago that, at the order of Emperor Palpatine, Caamas was destroyed by the Empire. But the years had been long since then, and the Empire had feared nor felt any recourse, until now.

The Caamasi that had gathered to witness the touchdown of the Imperial shuttle were unreadable, because they were unlike humans in all but intelligence. Furry beasts, looking more like animals than proper creatures, they were nonetheless possessed of a certain beauty. True, this was a beauty that one might rather find in a pet than in an equal, but considering their achievements, both in the galaxy abroad and in rebuilding Caamas, they were to be respected. While most stereotypes were unfair generalizations of a race, that of the Caamasi as smart and peaceful was well earned.

Two soldiers – not Stormtroopers, but fair-featured young naval soldiers – preceded Bhindi and Captain Sara down the ramp. They wore only blasters on their hips, and unlike the faceless Stormtroopers, the Caamasi people seemed to accept them.

One of them, his fury face adorned by two magnificent magenta lines, approached and bowed peaceably.

“Moff Drayson. Your coming is not unexpected to the Caamsi.”

Bhindi blinked. The Caamasi had been expecting the Empire?

“The Consul requests your presence, if you would be kind enough to follow me, everything will be explained.”

The Admiral nodded at the guards, who fell behind her and Sara as they walked, and settled on either side into the oversized landspeeder that their escort had been provided with.

“You sound as though you have been expecting us…”

“We have. That is to say, the Consul has been expecting you. Although we did not anticipate the arrival of your stealthship… the Consul has instructed me to deliver her sincerest apologies at any damage she sustained. She also wishes to discuss the design. A remarkable ship, if I may say so.”

“Your Consul seems to be very aware of things. I, however, must still wonder who you are.”

The Caamasi’s large green eyes blinked slowly.

“My apologies, Admiral. I am Algo Ter’ma. You may call me Algo, if you wish. I am an aide to the Consul. The Consul regrets that she could not be present himself, but she has been occupied trying to make right the situation in orbit.”

“And who is this Consul, Algo?”

“You will meet her soon enough, Admiral. Please, be patient.”

As they passed through the city, Bhindi was struck by the absurdity of it all. Here she was, with a fleet in orbit more than powerful enough to reduce the planet again to rubble, and an army prepared to overrun the entire world, and yet she was sitting in the back of a Caamasi speeder, on her way to see their leader.

Half an hour later, the speeder slowed and came to the gates of a large building on the outskirts of the city. The place was surrounded by a high wall, though Bhindi could see no one manning it, and on Caamas it must surely have been only for show. Indeed, the gates were wide open, and the speeder passed through with only a few words exchanged between the driver and the guards. Neither of these wore any weapon, only a headset comlink.

Their guide let them into the building and up a flight of stairs, into a vast room with a fantastic view over the forest that spread as far as the eye could see behind the building. Waiting for them was a single Caamasi, with its back to them. It wore a long white robe, which was evidently reserved for nobility among the Caamasi, for all of the others Bhindi had seen had worn any colour but it. Even Algo, their guide, wore an off-white shade, which must have been an honour indeed. With the Imperials in their black uniforms, it was quite a contrast.

“Moff Drayson.” The Caamasi said, turning. She was not young, by human standards, though for her species she was not yet even past her prime.

“Releqy A'Kla.” Bhindi said, staring. The Caamasi smiled.

“You do recognize me. Though I do not believe we have ever met…”

“No. But you are well known to the Empire. The Republic would hardly have been the same without your leadership.”

Releqy nodded softly. “It was a bitter struggle, in the end. I was disheartened to see the Republic fall, after all that we had fought through. I was saddened, too, to learn of your father’s death. He was a brave man, even if his life led a different path than your own.”

Bhindi nodded. Somehow, it had never struck her as strange that her father had fought for the same sorts of enemies she now made it her life’s work to destroy.

“The Republic betrayed my father. He died trying to protect it from its own demise.”

“He did indeed. He was a brave man, and like you he fought with every fibre he had for what he believed. His death was a major blow to the Republic – and it split us as nothing before had. Even the Caamas Document did not splinter the Republic so.”

“Perhaps it is for the better, that the Republic fell. There can be no more wars, between the Empire and Republic. Less bloodshed.”

“Indeed.” The Caamasi turned to the windows, inviting Bhindi to come stand beside her. “But you did not come here to speak of the past. You want to know what part Caamas has played in the attacks on your Empire.”

“I do.”

Releqy gestured to the forests outside. “These forests provided the woods used in the ships that have been attacking you. I did not know of it when they came, at first. I believed the wood to be for furniture being made for cruising vessels. Soon, though, it became apparent that they were indeed warships. And I tried to stop them. But it was then to late, because while they did stay away for a time, Caamas was not involved. They stopped over here, disguised a cruise ships, and we supplied them for fear that they might reveal our aide to you, in retribution.”

“Who are they?? Bhindi asked. “Where do they come from?”

“That I do not know. They would not deal with us directly, but sent bargainers and scouts. But they traded for the woods and supplies a great deal of Bacta. I imagine that your next clue may be found on Thyferra.”

Thyferra. Stolen, long ago, from the Empire. From Bhindi herself…

“I must leave a garrison here, you know.”

“Yes. The Caamasi accepted that when we realized what was coming. Caamas belongs to the Empire, for as long as you wish to occupy it.”

“Not occupy, Releqy. You are free to govern as you see fit, within our laws. I will talk with you more later, but now I must ready my fleet.”

“You go to Thyferra?”

“Yes… the Empire must restore her honour. We go to Thyferra.”