The Azguards were back in space.

And one of the things they did was to form a body of travelers, adventurers, and explorers from within their own people, to learn, and discover.

They traveled the length and breadth of the galaxy, learning about all sorts of new life forms and civilizations on their five-year mission. Of course, it has only just started, and when you factor in holidays, sick days, and weekends, its’ basically a career.

Now, a small shuttle of these explorers, six of the finest from The Azguard Reformed Galactic Explorers Team, or TARGET, have found themselves lost in amongst the unknown regions. Now they mark on their map the many places and planets they encounter, but more importantly the people on these worlds.

“Everything good back there?” said the pilot, Yunam Traklopitz, or Yu for short. He had several years’ piloting experience, doing exploration flights for the original TANGENT (Before TARGET).

“Just fine” said his weapons expert. He also had a communications’ expert, a cartographer, a computer programmer/hacker and a man in a red shirt. It had become a common practice for all ships to have a “Red Shirt”, bigger ones having many. It was an enviable job.

They had been drifting deeper for some time, when Yu suddenly picked up a disturbance on his radar. An impossibly large vessel just appeared on sensors, over 7 kilometres in length!

It was a Viscount. Yu and his team, which had moved to the cockpit (Not a pleasant name), looked in aw at its’ terrible majesty. Hey had only heard of these in books, they had never seen one!

Judging by the build it was a Mon Calamari Republic craft, until something destroyed it. It floated listless in space, holes pocking its’ hull like… uh… damn (They haven’t invented Swiss cheese yet).

Yu pushed the controls forward lightly, bringing the ship to rest next to the behemoth. They put on space suits and entered the vessel.

It was dark, and spooky. The computers were trashed, and the skeletal remains of Mon Cal littered the floor. This was disturbing, what could have done that up in space?

They had just reached the bridge when a flashing light on the communications experts’ radar alerted them to something. Their shuttle had broken off and was FLOATING AWAY!!!

“@#%$!” exclaimed the red shirt, who loaded his gun. The computer expert though, in a flash of inspiration, slammed the controls on the vessel. The computer grudgingly light up, displaying low but still visible power levels.

They sent out a distress beacon on all frequencies, and prayed.

MCR High Admiral Filgad wandered around in his quarters, pacing aimlessly. He was in temporary command of the Mon Calamari Republic Armed Forces, as Admiral Jeori Teebo was recovering from a serious head wound. He hadn't run into any problems yet, but something deep inside him said that something would happen.

Soon.

A kncok came on his door. he spun around quickly, and almost had his blaster out of its holster when he realized that nothing could possibly happen here. "Come in."

A young Mon Calamari officer stepped in. Filgad had never seen him before, but he glanced quickly at his rank insignia. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, we're picking up a distress call. It seems that an Azgardian scouting force has encountered the hulk of one of our Star Defenders out in the unknown regions."

"What the hell was it doing there?"

"I don't know, Admiral." He paused for a moment. "They also reported that their shuttle floated off, and they are now stranded."

Filgad thought for a moment. "Organize a Commando squadron. Send them to investigate."

"Yes sir."



The ten Mon Calamari Commandos marched up onto the shuttle, blaster rifles slung over their shoulders, and no doubt many other weapons concealed in their uniforms. The shuttle lifted away from the water-covered planet, and shot away into hyperspace, heading to where the distress call had originated.

The team waited patiantly upon their hulk. It seemed to drift slowly, like a wayward speck in the galaxy. It wasn't that they wern't terrified, it's just that there wasn't much to do. After a minute, the Red Coat went to see if anything else was left in the ship. He was accompanied by the weaons' expert.

They saw the movie Aliens, so knew what to expect.

Big, powerful, Alien-busting guns swivled around the corridors. Shadows were cast by their lights, making the ship seem to be nothing but obsidian, until it was revealed to be hard durasteel.

Finally, the comm system flickered to life, and a fuzzy voice came through.

"fzzzzz..... There's fzzzzzzzzzzz a Mon CaFzzzzzzzz Commandos iFzzzzzzzzzzzzzz -urn to bridgFzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

The two looked at their radio recievers, and turned around.

But there was no more corridor, just a wall.

They turned back. Another wall.

And what worsend the affect was the perfect silence. They were trapped in a closed off corridor...

_________________________________________________________________

Outside their square, dark shapes moved away from a hidden button on the side of the hallway, and drifted further up the ships' corridors.

As the shuttle pulled out of hyperspace the commander, Clighar, involuntarily reached for his rifle. He could see the cruiser in front of him, but somehow it wasn't right. It was falling apart far more quickly than it should have been.

And what the hell was it doing all the way out here anyway?

"Sir," said one of the pilots, sounding confused, "We can;t get any life sensor readings. They appear to be blocked."

"Blocked?" He wondered aloud, "Why would they be blocked?"

"That's what we're her to find out, isn't it?" said one of his soldiers.

Clighar made a motion to the pilot. "Set us down in that hangar bay."

"Yes, sir."



As Clighal stepped over the wreckage, he couldn't help but to twust his salmon-coloured face into a grimace. There were dead bodies everywhere, all in varying states of decomposition. From the marks on them, they appeared to have been eaten.

What the hell was going on here?

He turned to his Commandos. "Come on. Follow me."

In the hangar bay. old and rusted guns suddenly light up. Small red lights flickered on their surface. The sounds of Tibanna gass being poured rapidly through the calibration process met the commandoes ears.

Boom

Their vessel was reduced to shards.

The shadows detached themselves rapidly from the dark. They closed in seconds, their long cloaks inexplicably flowing from their carpaced bodies. Blaser shots bounced, and they stopped a foot away, forming an eerie circle.

They said nothing to the Commandoes, they just stared.

____________________________________________________________________

Elsewhere the Red coat and his associat blasted through the wall and hurried to the bridge. But they were stopped. The shadow beings closed suddenly, and formed a wall. There was no way through.

Clighal watched the creatures approach impassively. He knew he could do nothing, as blasts from his rifle were deflected by their bodies. He and his Commandos could not use their explosives at this range, as they would all be killed. So he stood and watched, huge Calamarian eyes flicking back and forth, waiting for the creatures to tear open his body and spill green blood all over the rusting floors of the Star Defender.

When the creatures got to be about five feet way, he saw from the corner of his left eye, one of his Commandos draw off the vibroblades strapped to the side of his legs, hidden under the folds of the uniform. Clighal's heart lept with joy. Perhaps they would not die after all.

He stripped of his as well, and motioned for the rest of his team to do the same. He stood ready, blades held high, poised to strike. The creatures could deflect blasters, but he would see how they handled a nice, sharp edge...

The viro blades cut through the beasts, killing their targets. The grey figures did nothing but close ranks. But the instant one had fallen they had pressed closer. It was like they were doing a suicide run just to get a good look at them. Then, as their numbers dwindled, they let out a scream.

A scream, in empty space.

It was heard, oh the horrors of that scream. Oh the gnashing, burning horror that was that scream. It reached where normal sound could not, coming from where normal sound came not, to burn what sound should.

They piled upon one member of the team, all of them, clawing at him and shrieking at him, groping uselessly at his weapon. Until finally one lifted his arm triumphant, a thermal detonator clutched active in his hands...

__________________________________________________________________

Elsewhere the Azguards on the bridge were confronted with the same slow-moving abominations. They closed, slowly. Blaster bolts bounced off, and they made no sudden moves until they were in striking distance.

When the cartographer found herself trapped between a control panel and one of them, she lifted her pistol and exhausted a clip. The creature merely stepped forwards and

*Snap*

She fell lifeless to the ground. Then the computer programmer drew out a thermal detonator and leapt forwards.

"Go!" Screamed. Yu and his communications' expert fled. The blast doors came down, followed with a moment of light. Then no more mouvment.

The two survivors sighed, opened the doors-

-and saw the uninjured creatures still coming.

One grabbed the Comm expert, but did not kill him. Instead it just bore him to the ground, and the others encircled.

Yu did the only thing left to do. He ran.

Clighal jumped back when he saw the thermal detonator, and then turned and ran. He just made it around the corner when he heard the detonator go off. The shockwave threw him to the ground, but he got up and just kept on running, never looking back.

The two collided after ten minutes of running. Shaking himself up, He turned a surprised eye to the Mon Calamari.

"What are YOU doing here? did you bring a ship?"

After hours of flight, the TDY Star Destroyer Vondiranach came out of hyperspace. It was accompanied by two squadrons of Juutralian Tie Defenders.

Major Janson noticed that there seemed to already be people in the area. He could see for sure that the MOn Cals were here. TDY was on good terms with the Mon Cals.


Janson sent them a message.

"MCR personnel, this is Major Janson of the Tholatin Drive Yards. Is assistance needed? I have four squads of men ready to go."