Red Scenario - Nexus Link: https://nexus.eotir.com/topic/2362-like-unto-the-romans-34-iry
Imperial Republic Year 34
Civis romanus sum. I am an Imperial Citizen.
"Did you know that two thousand years ago a Roman citizen could walk across the face of the known world free of the fear of molestation? He could walk across the earth unharmed, cloaked only in the words "Civis Romanis" - I am a Roman citizen. So great was the retribution of Rome, universally understood as certain, should any harm befall even one of its citizens." -President Jedidiah Bartlet (from The West Wing)
Event: Shots fired in Stonia, capital city of the planet Almania. 11 killed.
Shots fired. Riloan heard it over the police radio. He was a young and newly appointed lieutenant in Stonia's Police Force, the capital city of Almania. It was a very difficult job, as there was much unrest in Stonia and throughout Almania. Their planetary leader, Etago Ma'a was a topic of sore discussion among the people. But Lord Ma'a controlled the military, and the police and just about everything. Yet he taxed the citizens, forced his own people into labor camps who opposed his regime. Riloan was lucky enough to work away from most of it, though there was a delegation from the Imperial Republic known as Interstellar Explorers, a scientific unit of COMPNOR, though he had no idea what COMPNOR was. Almania was not part of the Imperial Republic. Almania was in the Outer Rim Territories in the Mortex sector.
Riloan was one of the first responders at the scene. Fifteen people dead. It was the Explorers, the delegation from the Imperial Republic. What happened here? Who would do this, and why? He was the senior officer at the scene, and the watch commander was not answering his calls. He was having trouble getting anyone higher up on the radio.
"Lieutenant Riloan Cotar," he announced to the duty officer, who logged each individual investigator, medic and coroner that arrived on the scene. All fifteen Imperials had been shot. Everyone in the area claimed they saw and heard nothing, except an older woman who had called it in. It was going to be a long, busy night.
The wounds on would-be explorers were not from ordinary rifles or weapons, at least not on Almania. They were clearly from marksmen of the Albatross, the Almanian Army Elites. But the evidence suggested no reason why the order to kill would have been given. He seriously doubted the Albatross were provoked. Something was amiss, but even more confusing was that he was here. If it was the Albatross they would have made a show, and he would definitely not have been asked to investigate. There would be nothing to investigate. The fact that Riloan could not reach his watch commander was not a good sign. Whatever was going on he did not want to be stuck in the middle...and yet there he was.
A soft beeping sound patiently chimed in the darkness. It was just loud enough to draw Kai'Len slowly from his slumber, however grudgingly that was. His eyes focused on a point on the textured ceiling and willed the sound to stop, or go away, or maybe even just give up. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was his commlink alerting him to a waiting message. A groan of annoyance rumbled into the pillow as he smacked it down on his face. The beeping didn't give up. In fact, he was pretty sure it got louder. With a sigh he rolled out of bed and snatched the comm off of his dresser. He keyed in the decryption code and activated the link. he keyed up the waiting message and was surprised to see only a line of text instead of a voice or holo-image.
"Kai, so I see you're still alive. Heard a few things echoing on the rumor mill. Trouble coming your way I think. Drinks on me at the usual place, usual time. -Mij"
Mij? he thought. It was a name he hadn't heard in many, many years. Not since his time as a mandalorian bounty hunter. Kai thought it was a bit odd that a man like Mij, a Mando bounty hunter and part time conspiracy theorist, would contact him with a warning like that. For one, The republic had been unusually quiet as of late. For the last few months Kai's life had been borderline monotonous. As far as he was concerned, that was fantastic. Losing Jensen had hit him pretty hard, and the fact that he hadn't been on the front line since that fateful night had not been missed. He had a feeling that the brass was giving him and his team some time to grieve. It was a much needed break. But the message from Mij meant that the time for mourning was coming to a very quick close.
He frowned a bit and scratched his head as he headed to the 'freshers. After a nice long shower and getting dressed in his full off-duty armor, he left for the 'usual' place that Mij had mentioned. In this case, the usual place was a run down dump of a cantina in one of the lower levels of the planet. It was the kind of place that served a chef's surprise as it's only food option on the menu. Mainly because even the chef was surprised with what came out of his kitchen. And not in a good way. The regular customers were those with an aversion to the basic rules of both hygiene and modern society. It was the kind of place that Kai had felt at home in just a short time ago.
He scanned the room as soon as he walked through the doorway, sizing up every patron as they did the same to him. Some stopped drinking for a moment to give him a wary look over before deciding that a Mandalorian in full armor was not the kind of person they wanted to study after all. Kai spotted Mij in a booth by the kitchen. The man was also sporting full armor, a red and gold trimmed get up, with his helmet sitting on the table so that he could have a drink. He waved Kai over and continued to nurse his beverage. Kai slid into the booth and took off his helmet.
"So Mij, what's the deal?" he said with a smile. "You don't call, you don't write. Not even a birthday card for over three years, and now you give me a warning to gear up for trouble? What are you playing at Ner Vod?"
Mij leaned back a bit and picked up his helmet, sliding it on with one hand while motioning for Kai to do the same. He rolled his eyes and slipped the bucket back on, sealing out the world with a soft hiss of the helmet sealing tight. He opened a private channel and waited. A pop of static told him that the other mando was now on the channel. "Sorry for the secrecy, brother, but one can't be too careful nowadays. So, to the point. The rumor mill has been churning out some interesting things as of late. The kinds of things that make a man wonder. Things like some crazy spec ops team taking on sith and winning. Or some planned hits on the outer rim. Or, and this is my personal favorite, that dear old Emperor Palpatine has been resurrected by dark force magic and is planning a synthmusic tour. I just figured that with you having your head up your shebs for the last few months, you might need a bit of heads up."
Kai narrowed his eyes a bit, "And..."
Mij spread his hands in mock surrender, "And I figured that if any of these things turns out to be true, then maybe you could put in a good word upstairs for your old buddy Mij. Contracts have been a bit slow in the coming as of late, and I could do with a Government one."
"Ah. You know, you could always just join the military the old fashioned way."
"True, but then I couldn't tell the big wigs where they could stick their orders if they were retards. So, whaddaya say vode?"
"I'll think about it Mij, but that's it. Now, are you going to talk shop all day, or where you planning on buying a girl a drink."
Mij smiled and nodded, unsealing his helmet again and ordering another round of drinks. Kai took his helmet off as well, and While he tried to focus on catching up with an old friend, his gut was doing somersaults about Mij's warnings. Trouble was coming. He could feel it in his bones. The only question was when and where.
Having just been appointed Underdirector of Operations not too long ago, Lan Klone sat at in the Operations Command Center, reading through mission reports, preparing to send the information gathered from the last mission to the Directorate of Analysis. Just as he closed the folder containing the newly acquired intelligence, Savannah Rinsky and Vassav Swaminathan walk into the Command Center. Lan looked up and smiled at them. "Greetings Chiefs. What can I do for you two?"
"We just received word that the team that we had monitoring the Explorers lost track of them on Almania. The last known sighting of them was in the capital city, Stonia." Chief Rinsky reported.
Lan thinks for a moment. "I'm assuming this is why you're here as well, Swaminathan."
"Yes, Director. I suggest we send in an agent or two to infiltrate Stonia's Police Force and do some investigating." Vassav responds.
"Hmm… Fine. Send in two agents to infiltrate the city's police force. Have them report back to me if they find anything of importance. Rinsky, withdraw your surveillance team as soon as the agents have successfully infiltrated the police force, and not a moment later."
"Understood," both chiefs respond before turning around and leaving the room.
Things had been different for Jared since the events on Alderaan with the General, also learned to keep his cards close to his chest; The rest of the team had helped during the lock down on Coruscant and now they were sitting on an orbital station above Coruscant. They were currently waiting on their transport which would take them back to Kuat, this was the first real work they'd done in the new gear and it'd performed on spec for what they were expecting.
He looked at the others who were sitting either next to their gear bags or with them stowed under their seats, the military skyhook they were waiting on was spartan and obviously meant for transfers from planet side to the massive ships that the Republic operated. The team had made it out and were just as jaded as their commander, but their allegiances were still the same. First to their commander and the republic, then everyone else. The hapan sniper and Jared shared a look, it had been pure hell since Kamino, they had been on deployments and training nearly constantly; they'd seen more fighting then most battalion NCOs in their entire service and from the general consensus it was only beginning for the republic.
"We all knew life would be different when we took the position Ghear, of course I don't think any of use were ready for all this craziness. But keep it together old man, we've already proven we're battle ready and my gut tells me the republic will need us soon." The older soldier just nodded slightly as they both looked at the rest of the team, it was such an odd mish mash of races and backgrounds. From the Zabrak heavy weapons soldier who'd nearly been drummed out of the army, to the tech specialist who'd been born aboard a tramp freighter and never held a blaster til she requested assignment to Quinn's team. Even the Commander and the Warrant Officer were of opposite backgrounds, Jared with his childhood in the slums and learning to fight not by entering the military but to survive, whereas Ghear had been a legacy soldier in the hapan military before joining the republic.
Princess Ashlee Stratus-Gourdine was on Kuat visiting her brother, Prince Marc Stratus at the family's private palace. Soon she would return to the Taftican Task Force. Ever since her husband, then Line Captain Travis Gourdine had been promoted to Commodore and transferred to the Royal Command Fleet, she was now under escort of a Grand Admiral, which meant she could not always go on the expeditions herself without permission and a large security force. She no longer had the luxury of using her relationship with her husband to get her way. Admiral Taftican, it was said, has a heart of ice, and was stone-cold on discipline and maintaining order in the Kessel and Honoghr systems, and monitoring and protecting the border and nearby systems not controlled by the Imperial Republic. Ashlee knew that deep down the Admiral probably had a heart of gold, but could not show it as this part of the galaxy was so hostile it was if they were at war. Thus is was nice to be away and on homely territory at Kuat.
Several weeks ago there had been rumors and reports of a special energy source emitting from gems on Almania, whose gems may also have properties used for lightsaber creation. She commissioned a team of COMPNOR scientists and one of her own close friends to go down and investigate and harvest or purchase if possible. She was getting updates every day, sometimes hourly. She had not heard from them in three days. Something felt terribly wrong.
Although often she found herself at odds with Grand Admiral Taftican, she went immediately from her palace quarters to the secure military communications Center. It was time to remind the Admiral who she was, and the power of the Royal Family, although it extended to military units, it did not extend to the Grand Admiralty except under special circumstances. Either way, however, she would make her stand. The turbolift door opened to the tactical command and communications room, and she walked across the room straight to SigInt. Officers and servicemen rose and snapped to attention, but did not salute. She was greeted via holocom shortly. The image of Grand Admiral turned to face her. "Your Highness, to what do we owe this honor?"
"Admiral, the science team I sent to Almania has not reported in for three days. I would appreciate it if you looked into it right away and report back to me on your findings." The Princess' voice had assumed the familiar commanding tone of a Stratus. Though to those who knew the Princess closely, they would notice a slight plea in her tone.
To Ashlee's surprise, the Grand Admiral nodded and simply said "Yes, Your Highness." What Ashlee didn't know was that the team consisted of a fleet security officer who was close to the Admiral. What neither of them knew was that a DCI operative was also among the team. Immediately the Grand Admiral began issuing orders to the IRIS team that was assigned to her task force to, very quietly, locate the science team and discover why they had suddenly gone dark.
Savannah Rinsky walked into the Command Room and approached Lan Klone, who was already conferring with Patrick Gidderson, the Bureau Chief of Operations.
"Director, Chief, our agents have successfully infiltrated Stonia's Police Force. They reported back today saying there seems to be an ongoing investigation pertaining to the murder of a number of Imperial personnel. Whether or not these Imperials were apart of the Explorers is currently unknown." Chief Rinsky stated. She handed the report to the Bureau Chief for him to read over. "The investigation is led by a Lieutenant by the name of Riloan Cotar." The chief added.
"Hmmm. Interesting. Have the agents report back as soon as anything changes." Chief Gidderson said, handing the report to the Underdirector.
"Have them monitor the Lieutenant as well. I expect you to keep Gidderson up to date on this matter."
"Yes, Director." Rinsky responded, turning around and walking out of the Command Room.
"Should we share this information with the Intelligence Center, Director?" Gidderson asked, turning to the Underdirector.
Lan turned on his heel and walked toward a console. He sat down in the chair in front of the console and said, "Not yet. We don't have enough information to share with them. We'll see when the infiltration team reports back."
Savannah Rinsky rushed into the Command Room, brushing past every agent in her way. She stopped at the Underdirector's desk. Behind her was Lt. Colonel Terrisa Klone, the Underdirector's wife and IRIS Liason.
"What is it, Chief?" Lan asked. Rinsky handed a report to him without uttering a word. Lan read the report thoroughly and looked up at the Chief. "Any information as to who did it?"
"Not at this present time. According to our infiltration team, the team hasn't found any clues as to who could have possibly done it." Rinksy responded.
"How odd. If that's all, you can go, Chief Rinsky."
Savannah Rinsky nodded before turning around to leave. She walked past Terrisa and left the Command Room.
"So what was that about, Director." Terrisa asked Lan.
Lan looked up at her after reading the report one more time. He handed the report to her and said, "See for yourself. You just saved me the trouble of calling for you."
Terrisa took a quick glance through the report and looked up for a moment. "11 Imperials? Murdered on Almania?"
"Seems so. 9 COMPNOR personnel, a military security officer, and someone from Princess Ashlee's company."
Terrisa raised an eyebrow. "And you believe this is the Explorer unit?"
"It's the same exact breakdown of the Explorer unit. Could be a coincidence, but you already know that I don't believe in those. On any note, please report this to the Security Bureau Director."
Terrisa turned away from the Underdirector. "Alright. I'll let him know immediately." she said as she started walking out of the Command Room.
"And if you see Bureau Chief Gidderson, give him the report!" Lan yelled as she left.
"Alright. I'll let him know immediately." Terrisa said as she started walking out of the Directorate of Operations Command Room. She walked down the corridor, passing by several IRIS agents and made several turns. She walked into a room with four monitors on one of the walls, which was used for communications between IRIS, COMPNOR, and the newly formed Strategic Intelligence Center. In the center of the room was a desk with a computer terminal on it. She sat at the desk and pressed a few buttons on the terminal screen.
Moments later, the four monitors came to life and formed a single image of man from the chest up, wearing a IRSB uniform and a rank plaque, signifying his position as IRSB Director. "Ahh. Lieutenant Colonel Klone. What can I do for you today?"
Terrisa cleared her throat before responding. "Today, a report was sent to the IRIS Operations Headquarters about a group of Imperials who were apparently found murdered on Almania. They believe that this group is the the Interstellar Explorers."
Director Applebee arched an eyebrow. "What would make them think that it's the Explorer group?"
"According to the report, the group found on Almania and the Interstellar Explorers have the same exact breakdown. 9 COMPNOR personnel, a military officer, and a member of Princess Ashlee's company. There's was nothing else report. They're still looking into this matter."
Applebee rubbed his chin a little before saying, "Very well. I know you were scheduled to go to the Analysis Headquarters today, but I need you to stay there a little long. Just until Operations has uncovered more intel on this situation."
"Yes, Sir." Terrisa responded before the screens went blank.
Grand Admiral Taftican listened as the IRIS Attaché provided in detail the results of the investigation in the missing (now murdered) COMPNOR Team, chartered by HRH Princess Ashlee. It would now be her solemn duty to report this to her superior, which in this instance is the same. However, in the case when citizens (and in especially government officials) of the Imperial Republic are murdered or otherwise harmed by another government, she had to go directly her Supreme Commander.
"Thank you Agent Wehr. Dismissed." As a Grand Admiral she had supervisory authority over all branches of government for the areas her task force was assigned. Especially matters of State. Sitting in her office aboard the Protector-class Battleship Mal'ury'ush, she keyed the comm on her desk.
"Bridge." came the greeting.
"Captain, instruct engineering to divert power to communications relay. I want a strong burst encrypted channel direct to Coruscant. Tell the comm officer not to use any of the official relays. This is an emergency communiqué to the Supreme Commander."
There was a long pause. The captain had not heard of any emergency, or at least anything that he would consider an emergency. However, her officers and crew knew better than to question her orders, ever. "Yes, Admiral."
Once the transmission began, she keyed in a special code she had been given long ago, but had not had to use it in a long time. It was generally reserved for wartime, as was this method of communication. She found herself immediately faced with a tired-looking James Stratus. Obviously it had gone straight through without warning or filter nor fanfare. She did not have time to second-guess her actions.
"My Lord, it is my solemn duty to report that a COMPNOR Team consisting nine government scientists and two fleet officers were murdered on Almania in the last 48 hours. The IRIS investigation concludes that the order came from the planetary leader of Almania to the local Special Forces unit. This team was chartered by Her Royal Highness the Princess Ashlee."
High Prince James Stratus was resting peacefully after a very long day, when suddenly and without warning the secure holocom in the room alerted him to an emergency transmission and immediately connected him without giving him the option to accept or reject the call. He also noticed that there was no third party or communications officer on the line advising him of the transmission. This protocol was reserved for the most senior military commanders during times of war or other emergencies with the same grade of importance.
The holo of a female wearing a white Grand Admiral's uniform appeared. There were only two female Grand Admirals out of the twelve, and this was the elder of the two.
"Tura, I take it this is not a social call." It was not a question. He had known Tura Taftican long before the Imperial Republic was formed.
He listened to her report. He did not put on his usual show of majesty and commander. He was tired and it was only Tura on the comm. He confirmed no one else was listening, not even IRIS. To evesdrop on a secure communique on his private emergency frequency without his authorization carried the charge of treason, unless he himself was under duress. "So," he said softly, "my 'friend' on Almania decided to make a political statement." A flash of anger, one Tura had not seen in 30 years appeared across his face. "Then I shall do the same." He stood up to his full posture and immediately his commanding presence was very apparent.
"Mobilize the 5th. I want a blockade of the Almanian system immediately. Nothing in or out. Order your legions of Marines to prepare for ground assault and await my orders. I want your entire task force at battle readiness in 4 hours time."
A look of shock briefly passed the Grand Admiral's face. "My Lord?" She could not believe her ears.
"You have your orders, Admiral. Cary them out." He then disconnected the comm and began to dress. He keyed in the comm to the duty officer in the Palace Situation Room
"Yes Your Majesty?"
"Get me Executor Treyson, Chancellor Quick, Admiral Quinn, Director Klone and Marshall Cognatus immediately. I don't care if they are sleeping, wake them up! Also, see if you can locate Praetor Alexia Preston. Oh, and uh, prep Channel One for an emergency galactic address."
"Yes Your Majesty."
Senior Agent Derek Angel walked into the Operations Command Room and stopped once he reached the Underdirector's desk. Lan looked up from the documents he was reading and said, "What can I do for you, Agent Angel?"
Nervously, looked down at the paper he was holding before looking back up at the Underdirector. "We've just received a message from Coruscant. You've been summoned, sir." Derek said.
Lan raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. "By the Director?"
"No sir. This message came from the Royal Palace. It said your presence is required immediately." Senior Agent Angel said, handing the paper to the Underdirector.
Lan read the message over and stood up from his seat. "You can go now, Agent." the Underdirector told Derek before walking out of the Command Room.
Lan walked down the long corridor until entering a room about two-thirds the size of the Command Room. The two agents who were working in the room looked away from their terminals and greeted the Underdirector.
"Patch me through to the Royal Palace ASAP. Then afterwards you two can leave."
The agents nodded before going through the protocol for opening a secure channel to the Royal Palace on Coruscant.
Garrett Halstead, the Principal Private Secretary to the Chairman and Grand Minister of COMPNOR, was busy planning parts of the Grand Minister's Spring Tour, when his desk comlink buzzed, and identified the caller as the switchboard operator of the Palace Situation Room. Garrett put Alexander Marcov, the Grand Moff of the Corellian Oversector on hold after excusing himself and accepted the incoming call, "Office of the Chairman and Grand Minister of the Commission for the Preservation of His Majesty's New Order...." After listening to the switchboard operator's repeated frantic pleas to get the Executor on the line, Garrett was finally able to let the switchboard operator go. He immediately contacted Jason Rogers, Principal Private Secretary to the Executor, and relayed the frantic worries and concerns of the switchboard operator that the Executor contact immediately.
Tavria was deep in conversation with Ewan Brentioch, Grand Moff of the Colonies Oversector, discussing the intricacies of regional tax and trade policy and way to reform the mess that was the web of local trade and tax policy in the Oversector. One of the Grand Moff's aides interrupted them in the middle of the discussion on Onderon tariffs, with news that the Palace Situation Room's switchboard operator was requesting her. The Executor excused herself and made her way to the secure communications center. Jason contacted the Palace Situation Room as the Executor made her way to him, "Please hold for Her Excellency the Executor of the Imperial Republic, the Duchess of Maires."
Auri and Dene were sparring back and forth, Auri had gained much skill and has learned and focused on her master well. Dene was impressed. The young jedi was proving to be a challenge for the slightly older veteran. There was no doubt she had her family's ability in the force. "Very good Auri I think you have learned everything I can teach pretty well. You may as well start teaching me now." He flirted, a smile flickering on his face.
One of the Shadow Guard slipped out of the waiting area adjacent to the High Prince's chambers and made her way to a nearby apartment. Fingers swiftly moved over the keypad, allowing the Guard admittance to the dwelling, and waking the occupant. Kaidlen Shan, pulling on a robe, walked out of her bedroom. She listened to what the Shadow Guard had to tell her, and with a nod, dismissed the Guard to return to her post. The Commandant of the Royal Guard returned to her bedroom, and proceeded to dress in her uniform. While she might not be included in on the initial meetings, she knew that she would eventually be brought in on things, if only for her insight. Once she was dressed and had her armaments concealed on her person, Kaidlen fixed herself a cup of caf, then meditated while she waited for the call she expected.
Jared was settling onto the HMS Vengeance, the Ardent-class Cruiser had become the flagship of the Fondor fleet after much of the fleet had been redirected to deal with sector security and battling incursions by Sith forces, but the Admiral was walking the command deck as he watched over the efficiency of the crew. The smaller ship suited Jared just fine given it made diverting on a moment's notice easier, plus the smaller craft was capable of landing if they needed to take a fortified position. The rest of the ODST unit had stowed there gear and were working stations on the bridge, each of them had found positions that suited their particular skill sets; It kept the unit busy during the downtime when they weren't needed as well.
It was then that a com officer approached Jared and handed him a coded message, he took the message with a nod and then stepped down from the bridge to approach the SigInt station aboard the command deck where Bit was sitting. He handed off the coded communique and waited, it didn't take the Kuati woman long to enter his authorization code and then the message appeared. He had been summoned back to Coruscant by Stratus which meant either something was afoot that hadn't reached his ears yet, or the senate was finally going to approve the war.
"Captain, best speed back to Coruscant." He looked down at Bit then and spoke in hushed tones for a moment. "Send a acknowledgement back to the palace and inform them of our ETA back to Coruscant, then have the team assemble in briefing room once I depart."
High Prince Stratus sent a signal to Kaidlen that he was about to make a public appearance, not just on Channel One, but from the Senate Hall Antechamber. The news had traveled fast about the deaths of the COMPNOR scientists and Fleet Officers that had been killed, as well as the presence of a Heavy Assault Fleet mobilizing in the Almanian System, and word of a blockade had been hastily put in place. A large crowd began to amass outside the Corusca City Palace, and Senate Hall. Many military officers and government officials were arriving at both locations. The IRSB frantically scrambled all their personnel within the vicinity and many more were being shuttled over to maintain order and security. Palace Security Agents and Royal Guards were both now visibly present on the streets, in the air on patrol, and throughout the entire Palace District. Who knew that there were more Royal Guards on Coruscant than there were Security Bureau Uniformed Officers and Security Forces.
Military Intelligence Report
To: Commander/5AF(TTF)
11 members of the COMPNOR team sponsored by Bysen were sent to Almania to investigate a rare gem-powered energy. The entire team, including a DCI agent went dark. Bysen requested welfare check by TTF-IRIS. All 11 members of the expedition had been murdered. Weaponry used as discovered from shadowing local law enforcement inquiry shows from Almanian Albatross Army Elite. Evidence suggests they were killed after being recognized as citizens of the Imperial Republic.
End of Report
Counter-Intelligence Alert
To: DepDir/DCI-IRIS, Commander-RG
Royal Guard Protectee-Codename Bysen detected in recent IRIS report. DCI-involvement also mentioned. Agent down.
Counter-Intelligence Alert
To: DepDir/DCI-IRIS, Commander-RG Royal Guard Protectee-Codename Apollo detected in recent chatter. DCI Agent down. Attack imminent.
Kaidlen, when she heard the incoming communication signal, leaped to her feet and snagged up her headset, pulling it on. "Here Sire. I am on my way." She responded to the signal, mentally. She grabbed the intel report, and then counter-intel report, a growl resounding low in her throat. Neehmai sprung from her spot, and was waiting for them to depart.
Too much time had passed since she had spoken with Grand Admiral Taftican. She also had heard nothing from her friend, nor the supposed team that was sent to search and rescue. When she contacted IRIS they had nothing for her, or so they claimed. They were pretty compartmentalized so it was possible that the officer she spoke with did not know the status of the inquiry.
It was time to call her brother. She keyed her comlink. There was a long pause and then a familiar voice. "Ash, this really isn't a good time. Can I contact you later?"
"No my brother, it is time I had some answers. I do not appreciate being firewalled by IRIS when my friends are missing. What is going on? And what's this about a military buildup and some big announcement?"
"Ashlee, I can't say anything over the comm, this is not a very secure line."
"Then I will cut my vacation short and head back to the Mal'ury'ush and get to the bottom of this. I don't care what the situation is, I want answers, and I want to be there when they find my friend. Since Travis is with me I'll need you to extend his leave."
"I don't want you going to Almania. The situation is not safe," the High Prince stated.
"It's not up to you. I am going." She insisted.
"Very well. However you will not go alone. I will have Admiral Kelly from the 5th Assault Fleet escort you and Travis to Grand Admiral Taftican. You will be briefed by the Grand Admiral when you arrive at the Mal'ur'y'ush. In the meantime, get to the Scarlet Angel for transport." The High Prince disconnected the call and then keyed for the Palace Sit Room.
"Palace Situation Room."
"This is High Prince Stratus. Get me the duty officer," he ordered.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
There was a quick silence and shuffle. "Commander Barthalemeu here, my Lord."
"Commander, transmit these orders to the commanding officer of the 5th Assault Fleet, Admiral John Kelly. He is to escort the Princess Ashlee Stratus-Gourdine and her husband Commodore Travis Gourdine from Kuat and rendezvous with the Mal'ury'ush, Grand Admiral Tafitican's flagship. He is to report to the Grand Admiral for any further orders upon their arrival. That is all."
"Yes my Lord, right away." The connection closed and the duty officer sent the orders through the military channels. The orders stopped in a queue pending the High Prince to transmit his authorization code (digital signature), and then were swiftly sent out. (IRIN # D930161)
Admiral Kelly stood on the command walk way on the bridge of the Scarlet Angel. John stood looking out at the stars and massive fleet gathered around Kuat. John slowly turned away from the view port as he heard someone approaching him. When John turns fully around he comes face to face with the Scarlet Angel's Captain, Captain Aeshi Altair, holding out a datapad.
As Admiral Kelly Started to read it, Captain Altair spoke up. "Orders from Coruscant sir."
"Indeed they are Captain. Contact the Vigilance and the Victus. Inform them to move Alpha and Beta Lines away from Kuat's gravity well, and prepare to jump to hyperspace on my orders. Have navigation begin plotting a course to the Almanian System. Please make sure the V.I.P. quarters are prepared for our quests. Have all off duty officers and an Honor Guard meet me in the hanger to welcome our guests. You have the Bridge Captain." After issuing those orders Admiral Kelly made his way down to the hanger to await the arrival of the Princess.
High Prince James Stratus decided to make a show of his trip to the Senate building. He exited the Palace at the main entrance, where a huge caravan of heavily-armored vehicles were waiting, surrounded by Palace Security Agents, Royal Guardsmen, and Security Bureau officers and vehicles. As the High Prince headed toward the vehicle, he felt a tickle on the back of his neck. He looked to the far right just in time to see a sniper from a window in a nearby building, and ducked just as the assailant pulled the trigger and fired shots toward him.
Ashlee and Travis were on Kuat visiting her brother Marc. They were at the private family chateau, which was the original castle Marc and Jim were born in, and subsequently had to flee during the uprising. Only Royal Guards and private non-governmental staff of the House Stratus abode here. It was a nice break from the galaxy. The Castle overlooked a beautiful and large lake, where Jim had his first kiss. The things she remembered. "What is it?" her husband Travis asked.
"Nothing," she lied. Childhood memories of the family were sacred, and rarely shared outside the four sibling royals. Especially Jim's. It was like an unspoken rule. She never understood why. She knew very few of them herself. Marc and Nicole knew more, but they never spoke of it, even when she prodded them. The youngest of the four, Ashlee had been born on not on Kuat, but on Hapes proper, after their family had to run away from their home, leaving their father behind, who died to allow them toe escape.
"Come on then, our shuttle is ready. Your oldest brother has arranged for an entire heavy assault line and a senior flag-officer to escort us to our rendezvous with Grand Admiral Taftican. We shouldn't keep them waiting. It is a big inconvenience, after all, for a senior flag-officer to put everything on hold an escort us around like..." he cut off as he knew immediately the look she was giving him before he saw it. He himself was a Commodore, a lower ranking flag-officer, and knew the delicacies and stresses of command, and he knew exactly what it was like running escort for a member of the Royal Family, as he himself used to get such an assignment before he married into the family, and then got transferred to the Royal Command Fleet, of which the primary mission was to protect the High Prince.
They rode in silence aboard the armored assault shuttle that took them into orbit. They could hear the pilot "Scarlet Angel, this is Imperial Republic Royal shuttle Alpha-324RX requesting permission to dock. Authentication code transmitting." An honor guard squadron of fighters from the Kuat Naval Guard flew in defensive formation around the assault shuttle, to hand off with the Scarlet Angel Task Force.
Kaidlen and Neehmai had just arrived when the shots fired. Even as the High Prince ducked, the cat like woman reacted. She leaped forward, colliding with Stratus, impelling him farther down, hopefully out of the range of fire. Even as she went down, covering the man who she had dedicated her life to, Kaidlen felt something impact with her armor. A snarl escaped her mouth, even as Neehmai and the Shadow Guards sprung into action, attempting to apprehend the sniper.
The HMS Vengeance had barely returned to real space when their subspace com lit up, there had been shots fired at High Prince Stratus and the entire system was on lockdown. Jared himself was called to the command deck to be informed, as he arrived on the command deck in his normal BDUs the com officer gave him the message from Coruscant command concerning the entire situation. "Very Well, Captain Edwant. Relay a message to Sector Command that we're on station and ready to assist where needed. Also sent a message to Palace Command that we are on station."
With that Jared nodded to the naval captain and headed back into the lift, likely they were be requested to assist with the lockdown of the area surrounding the palace and senate antechamber. He needed to brief the rest of the team on the situation and any new information they might receive or orders. The ride down the lift filled the soldier's mind with questions as well as concerns, if Stratus was down there then likely Dia would have been close by meaning she could potentially be in the line of fire as well; It only made the soldier want to get ground side that much faster.
High Prince Stratus did not engage the attackers. He had faith in his Royal Guard entourage, not to mention the entire Corusca City IRSB force (all heavily armed). He quickly entered the armored transport and ordered the pilot and caravan to move forward. They needed to reach the Senate building. Not only were they on their way to formally announce an attack against a foreign government, but also regretfully he would be present to hear the Supreme Chancellor's announcement of resignation, and to announce his replacement. It was indeed a dark day, but perhaps a new dawn was soon on the horizon. Who knows what opportunities and achievements the new Supreme Chancellor would achieve.
"Let's pick up our speed. Deflector shields to maximum, engage plasma armor." The High Prince ordered in his comlink to the entire caravan. "Security forces, prepare the Senate Hall grounds for my arrival. Secure the area. I will not be intimidated nor show sign of intimidation by these scum." He keyed for Praetor Kaidlen Shan. "Praetor, dispense of these would-be attackers. Even attempts to attack me is treason. Deal with it swiftly." He relayed the same message to all Coruscant security forces. "Send word to Admiral Quinn to meet us at the Senate Antechamber."
Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan
"Already on it, Sire." Kaidlen replied, her voice a velvet growl. She was inundated with a wealth of information coming to her over her HUD. The Shadow Guard were hunting down the would be assassin, and were closing in on the person. She switched to another channel, to connect with Admiral Quinn. "Praetor Shan to Admiral Quinn, please come in. I have an urgent message for you from the High Prince."
Admiral Jared Quinn
Jared and his team were already strapped into their transport when his earbud com chirped announcing an incoming message, he heard Commandant Shan on the other end explaining she had a message from Prince Stratus. "Praetor, I read you loud and clear. What's the situation down there?"
It would only take a moment for the military shuttle to be space borne and burn hot for the atmosphere of the the city-planet beneath them, the team inside were geared up in light armor and had their weapons ready near the door. Jared knew most of them were ready to lay down their lives but that time always was on the mind of a soldier.
Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan
"Assassins went after him, Admiral. I took the hit, but am alright. He wants you to meet us at the Senate Antechamber as soon as possible." Kaidlen relayed. "Watch yourself. The Guard are after the assassin, but have not, as yet, reported to me that the assassin was captured."
Admiral Jared Quinn
Jared unstrapped himself from the seat and headed into the cockpit for a moment. "Senate Square, set us down closest to the Antechamber." The pilot acknowledged the order and began to lift them from the hanger bay deck, Jared was already back in his seat and strapped in when there was the momentary lapse of gravity before the shuttles gravity field generator compensated for the difference.
"Praetor, we're in route and should be there in 10 mikes." The trip into the atmosphere was uneventful and their descent through the city-planet's traffic barely slowed them down; it was likely because IRSB would have locked down the skies around the Palace and Senate Chambers after the attempted assassination. The shuttle's approach was neither stealthy nor quiet as the repulsors on it thumped while they descended to the outer pavilion around the senate chambers.
Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan
"See you then!" Kaidlen replied. She then turned towards Stratus. "We will see him there shortly. Anyone else you want me to contact? Or pull in on this whole mess?"
High Prince James Stratus
"No. But the Senate Antechamber must be fully protected and locked down. The entirety of the Throne will be there to speak before the full senate. Admiral Quinn is to join me at the main dais."
Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan
"Very well. Would you like me to pull McLairson in to assist with security?" Kaidlen inquired, before sending a message to Quinn. "Admiral, rendezvous with the High Prince at the main dais." One that was sent, she started calling out the rest of the Guard.
High Prince James Stratus
"Have McLairson hang back and blend in with the people." James Stratus signaled for the caravan of hovercraft to stop. Mobile shields activated as the High Prince stepped out of the armored transport and walked to the Grand Entrance. Crowds cheered and guards snapped to attention. The Supreme Chancellor's entourage was waiting for him inside. He greeted his old friend Joesefus as Executor Treyson's caravan arrived, and the two welcomed her and went to the Chancellor's office.
"You're sure that you want to announce it at this session Joe?" Tavria asked their friend.
"Yes, as I told you both after the High Council session I've made up my mind."
"You sure picked a time, Joe, you have sure picked a time," James was not happy.
"You mean this business on Almania? Jim there will always be something. I know keeping the peace is not as easy as one would hope, you must have faith and hope, for without either, all is lost. Come now, we must all face the senate for what we are about to do." He knew the High Prince also had business with the Senate of his own. He stood up and the three of them walked to the main dais, which was currently lowered down to the Chancellor's office. They waited for Admiral Quinn to arrive.
Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan
"Acknowledged." Kaidlen replied. She then keyed a completely different comlink. A simple code was sent over it. Once it was sent, Kaidlen continued on with what she was doing, as she waited for the response.
Admiral John Kelly - Scarlet Angel - 5th Assault Fleet
On the bridge of the Scarlet Angel, the Flight Control officer activated his com, "Imperial Republic Royal Shuttle Alpha-324RX this is Scarlet Angel Flight Control. Code authenticated activating landing beacon. You are cleared to land in Hanger 001. Welcome on board the Scarlet Angel." After a moments the Flight Control officer turned to the command deck.
"Very well, notify all ships, jump to the Almanian System at once." Captain Altair orders. And with that the Fleet jumps to hyperspace destination the Almanian System.
Meanwhile in hanger 001, Admiral Kelly and the honor guard await Princess Ashlee Stratus-Gourdine and Commodore Travis Gourdine. Once the shuttle lands he can feel the Scarlet Angel lurch forward into Hyperspace.
As the shuttle ramp lowers and the Princess can be seen everyone gathered snap to attention and bows. Once the Prince and Commodore reach the bottom the Admiral speaks up. "Welcome on board the Scarlet Angel your Highness. The Fleet has already made the jump to the Almanian System. Lieutenant Dorstar and his team will escort you and the Commodore to your quarters. If you need anything just ask. I will be returning to the bridge."
Kev McLairson - Special Forces
Kev McLairson had just climbed out of the refresher, when his comlink went off. Wrapping a towel around himself, he picked it up and read the code. Letting out a sigh, he activated the device. "Praetor, fill me in." He asked his friend. As he waited for Kaidlen to reply, he once again entertained the thought of transferring to the Royal Guard. Or at least putting in a request for the transfer. He doubted it would be approved.
Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan
Kaidlen answered the incoming call. She quickly filled McLairson in on the situation. "Blend into the background and be ready just in case. Hopefully no one has infiltrated the area ahead of time. Whatever you do, do not allow the High Prince to come to harm."
Admiral Jared Quinn - Senate Building on Coruscant
Jared received the orders to report to the main dias within the Senate chambers as the shuttle landed, he grumbled slightly because he had no want to step onto that platform. He was a soldier and had no place up there, but one didn't tell the high prince no when orders came down. Before he grabbed his sidearm Jared gave orders to the rest of the team to link up with Royal guard and provice overwatch, as the shuttle landed with a slight groan and thump given their speed and vector onto the senate square he took up his sidearm and holstered it.
The walk into the Senate chambers took the soldier only a matter of moments, he could hear the military chatter as well IRSB. The Senate building had more security surrounding it then most classified military bases at the moment, but then the high prince was about to speak and was joined by Executor Tavria and Chancellor Quick; Jared approached the dias and flashed his security clearance before he was allowed to pass unfettered.
Kev McLairson - Special Operations
"Acknowledged. Out." Kev cut the transmission. He quickly dressed in the outfit of a Senator's Aide. Once ready, McLairson was off to the Senate Rotunda, where he blended in perfectly with the others there.
Simon Morris, bureau chief, IRIS-DCI As Simon boarded the Scarlet Angel alongside a number of other members of the Royal Guard, his earpiece goes off. He pressed the button on it. "Hello?"
"Sir, there seems to be trouble."
Simon sighed. "There's always a problem with you, Deltrov. Can't you handle it yourself?"
"We've just received word that there was an assassination attempt on the High Prince."
"What? Any clue as to who's trying to kill him?" Simon said, slowing down so none of the other RG members can hear him.
"No, sir. But until we can piece together whether it's only the High Prince they're after, it's assumed that anyone from the Royal Family is a potential target. With Princess Gourdine going to Almania, that makes her a pretty big target, even with the size of her protection detail."
Simon pondered for a moment. "Assign two more agents to her protection detail."
"Yes, sir." Simon pressed the button on his earpiece to drop the connection. He then pressed it a few more times.
"Hello? Can you put me through to Director Klone? It's urgent. Tell him it's from a DCI Chief." Simon said and waited for a moment.
"There's only one Chief from DCI who would ever be calling me. What do you want Simon?"
The door chimed as it opened to admit Admiral Quinn to the Chancellor's office. "Please join us on the dais, Admiral," the High Prince instructed. This meant that the entire party would soon be at the center of the Senate Antechamber. It was a rare site to have all three members of the Throne present in one place outside the Palace, and even before the Galactic Senate of the Imperial Republic. Members of the High Council were also present at the Antechamber on the High Balcony reserved for Royals or other special Guests.
The Supreme Chancellor stood tall and proud as the main dais rose above through his office into the Great Senate Antechamber of the Galactic Senate of the Imperial Republic. Many senators applauded and shouted harmonic greetings as the orchestra played the Senate Anthem. They also cheered for the High Prince and Executor. The Senate Antechamber had rarely been this crowded with almost all senators present, as well as government leaders of whom they represented, and many other important Imperial Republic dignitaries. The High Council and members of both Jedi Councils were present.
"Your Supreme Majesty, Executor Treyson, Admiral Quinn, members of the High Council, Jedi Councils, Senators and delegates, Greetings to all. This is indeed a rare occasion, a gathering such as only seen perhaps three times since the founding of this Imperial Republic. For nearly thirty-five years have I served you as Supreme Chancellor, and it has indeed been a grand experience. However, exactly one week ago I submitted my resignation from office and request for retirement to His Majesty the Supreme Ruler and Her Excellency the Executor at the conclusion of the last meeting of the Imperial Republic High Council. It is today that my resignation is to take effect, as the sun sets in Corusca City. It has been a pleasure to serve you, but I am getting older and have received a Call from the Force, which I must answer. This grand Senate will still flourish and prosper, as will the government of the Imperial Republic. Until my successor is announced, all duties and those who report to me will rest with His Majesty the Supreme Ruler and His Royal Office. More I would say unto you, as as of this moment I am still your Supreme Chancellor. However, I will address the Imperial Republic as a whole at the pleasure of His Majesty. For now, however, there are other pressing matters that must be addressed. As you can surely see, seated at the Grand Dais is none other then the entirety of the Royal Imperial Throne, and special guest Admiral Quinn. His Majesty the Supreme Ruler High Prince James Stratus will now address you."
The Supreme Chancellor stepped down from the podium and sat in an empty seat next to where the High Prince was sitting. They shook hands and embraced in a friendly hug, and the High Prince then took his place at the podium. The Chamber fell silent in shock and awe of what had just transpired.
Kaidlen stealthily stalked around, behind the scenes. She kept close tabs on everything, her senses extended to pick up anything that could be a possible threat. Quiet reports came to her via her comms through her helmet. The Commandant of the Royal Guard was not going to have an incident occur on her watch.
The High Prince rose from the High Seat and held up a hand indicating this was not a cheerful occasion on any term. That much was fairly certain among all the antechamber's attendees, though the raising of the hand was a command of silence, not to be taken lightly.
"It is with gravity and humble heart that I accept the resignation of His Grace the Grand Duke and Supreme Chancellor of the Imperial Republic. I have ordered that a Royal Gala be held to honor his service of these many years to us all. We will indeed take time to celebrate, but that time is not now."
His voice turned grave and very serious. "Eleven members of an Imperial Republic and COMPNOR-chartered scientific exploratory team were brutally murdered on the planet of Almania. For most of you this is not news. Out of these eleven some were officers of the Imperial Republic Armed Forces detailed to Special Duty. All eleven were citizens of the Imperial Republic. A member of the Royal Family has also been targeted. These attacks and murders are unacceptable at every level, from the murders of our fellow citizens, the Imperial Republic Armed Forces, and the attempts on the lives of members of the Royal Family, myself included. Upon learning of these murders I immediately ordered a special task force under command Grand Admiral Taftican to initiate a blockade of the Almanian system, and to prepare for a full scale invasion of the system."
A dark shadow loomed over the antechamber at this news. There was a rumble of shock by the senate at the hearing of what many thought drastic action in response of murders that took place outside Imperial Republic Territory. Though a dark shadow loomed across the room as the High Prince spoke, his demeaner did not change. However, round about him, was a glow of light.
"The Government of the Imperial Republic will not tolerate such actions against it, whether it be against its leaders or its citizens. Let me be perfectly clear. Any attack against a citizen of the Imperial Republic by foreign governments, leaders, militias, or military forces, will be considered an Act of War, and as such, the Imperial Republic will respond accordingly. Let it be known to all people, that it is considered a liberty, freedom, and right to walk or fly across the galaxy free of worry of harm. Let it also be known that so great will be the retribution of the Imperial Republic, to be universally understood as certain, should any harm befall even one of our citizens. This shall henceforth be known in government, diplomatic, and military circles as the Stratus Doctrine on Civil Safety." The Supreme Ruler paused only for a brief moment. "This doctrine I do hereby command to be enforced by all branches of government. This I do, in the presence of the Galactic Senate of the Imperial Republic, members of the High Council, and the Royal Imperial Throne. Admiral Quinn, our Chief of Combat Operations is present with me here today. Shortly before this conference, in a private meeting in the Throne Chamber of Corusca City Palace, I appointed Admiral Jared Quinn to the Grand Admiralty, and administered the oath of high office."
The High Prince turned to face Grand Admiral Quinn. "I do hereby task the Imperial Republic Armed Forces with the task of responding to such threats. It is so ordered." He returned to face forward.
"As the Chancellor has resigned, acting on behalf of the Throne, I do declare this special session adjourned until the next regular session or special session if called by the soon-to-be-announced appointment to the Grand Duchy and Supreme Chancellorship."
There were some brief exchanges of protocol among those on the Main Dias, afterwhich it descended back to the Office of the Supreme Chancellor, from which it came. A new, white Grand Admiral's uniform was presented by duty officers to the Grand Admiral waiting for their descent to the office. A military courier under heavy guard stood waiting in the background with protected case bound to his wrist. The courier stepped forward and saluted. The High Prince waived his hand across the case and it immediately opened. Inside were new code cylinders and a set of Grand Admiral's rank insignia. The High Prince pinned the insignia on the Admiral's current attire and exchanged the new code cylinders for his current ones, which were then safely placed back into the case and immediately sealed. Very few words were exchanged during this special private ceremony. When it was over, even fewer words were spoken. The High Prince nodded to the Grand Admiral. He had his orders. There was nothing left to say. He immediately departed the Senate Antechamber and rode back on the caravan to the Royal Palace. He had to sign off on the official orders to Grand Admiral Taftican, who was preparing to commence a full-scale invasion of the planets of Almanian System.
The deck of the Scarlet Angel shuddered violently as the massive capital ship was ripped from hyperspace without warning. Admiral Kelly had barely taken three steps from Hangar 001 when the artificial gravity fluctuated, throwing him against the bulkhead with bruising force.
Emergency klaxons blared throughout the vessel as the lighting shifted to battle red. Kelly regained his footing and sprinted for the nearest turbolift, hitting the comm on his wrist as he ran.
"Bridge! Status report!" he barked.
Captain Altair's voice came through, tight with controlled tension. "Admiral, we've been pulled from hyperspace by gravity-well generators. Multiple capital-class warships detected on approach vectors. Energy signatures do not match any known Almanian configurations."
"Time to battlestations?"
"Already there, sir. Shields at maximum. Weapon systems online."
The turbolift doors hissed open, and Kelly burst onto the bridge, his eyes immediately darting to the tactical display. Three unidentified cruisers had taken up positions to port, starboard, and aft of the Scarlet Angel, while a heavily modified freighter was barreling directly toward them.
"Target status?" Kelly demanded, taking his position at the command chair.
"The freighter is on an intercept course, sir," the tactical officer reported. "Scans detect unusual energy readings—possibly boarding equipment."
Kelly's mind raced through possibilities. A boarding action rather than outright destruction meant they wanted something—or someone—aboard his ship. The royal passengers were the obvious target.
"All batteries, focus fire on that freighter. Launch fighter squadrons Blue and Gold to engage the cruisers. Navigation, plot an emergency jump to hyperspace the moment that freighter is neutralized."
His officers responded with practiced efficiency, but Kelly knew their situation was precarious. The Vigilance and Victus would have continued on to Almania, unaware that the flagship had been yanked from hyperspace.
"Communications, send an encrypted burst transmission to the 5th Fleet and to Grand Admiral Taftican's flagship. Priority Alpha."
As the ship rocked under enemy fire, Kelly turned to his security chief. "Lieutenant Commander, double the security detail for our VIP guests and move them to the emergency bunker on Deck 9."
The bow of the Scarlet Angel erupted with turbolaser fire, the brilliant green bolts streaking toward the approaching freighter. To Kelly's surprise, the vessel's shields absorbed the initial volley with minimal visible effect.
"That's no ordinary freighter," he muttered. "Targeting, recalibrate for military-grade shields."
The tactical officer worked frantically at his console. "Sir, scans are detecting infantry-class shield projectors distributed across their hull. It's a patchwork, but effective."
Kelly watched as the ship's turbolasers found their mark again, this time puncturing the makeshift shields at several points. The freighter's hull buckled, but it maintained its intercept course.
He glanced at the threat board, noting the enemy cruisers were launching fighters of their own. This was a coordinated attack by a well-equipped force—and they had known exactly where to find the Scarlet Angel.
"This isn't random," Kelly said, his voice hardening. "They knew we were coming."
The ship shuddered again as a barrage of heavy turbolaser fire impacted their starboard shields.
"Shields at seventy-eight percent," reported the systems officer.
Kelly's eyes narrowed. He hadn't risen to command of the 5th Assault Fleet by shrinking from a fight. "Weapons, prepare tractor beams. If that freighter wants to get close, let's help them along. Once they're in range, lock on and pull them into our ventral batteries."
A predatory smile crossed his face. "Let's show these ambushers the folly of attacking a Prince's ship when his sister is aboard."
The tractor beam operators acknowledged the order as the battle intensified around them. Kelly knew Princess Ashlee would be safe—for now. But the question remained: who would dare attack an Imperial Republic Heavy Assault Line, and what were they after?
Princess Ashlee had barely settled into the VIP quarters when the ship lurched violently, throwing her against the bulkhead. The force of the impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and she instinctively reached for the nearest handhold to steady herself.
"Travis!" she called out, searching the room for her husband.
Commodore Travis Gourdine emerged from the adjoining chamber, his military training evident in his swift, controlled movements. "We've been pulled from hyperspace," he said, helping her up. "Gravity-well generators. Someone's attacking us."
The cabin's emergency lighting activated as the ship's klaxons began to wail. Ashlee moved toward the communications panel, but Travis caught her arm.
"Wait," he cautioned. "Standard protocol would be to minimize communications. The command deck will be managing the response."
Ashlee frowned. She wasn't accustomed to being passive during a crisis, but she recognized the wisdom in her husband's words. She was a passenger on a military vessel, and in combat situations, the chain of command was absolute.
The door to their quarters slid open with a hiss, revealing four armed Royal Guards who had been assigned to her security detail.
"Your Highness," the lead guard said, "we need to move you to a secure location immediately."
Travis nodded, guiding Ashlee toward the door. "What's our situation?" he asked the guard as they moved into the corridor.
"The ship is under attack by unknown forces," the guard replied. "A freighter is attempting to board us, and we're engaged with multiple enemy vessels."
Ashlee felt her blood run cold. This was no random attack—it was too well-coordinated. And the timing was too convenient to be coincidence.
"They're after me," she said quietly to Travis as they hurried down the corridor.
Travis's expression hardened. "Perhaps. But they'll find the defense of a Royal difficult to overcome."
They were halfway to the secure bunker when a tremendous impact rocked the ship, throwing them all against the wall. The lights flickered ominously, and Ashlee heard the unmistakable sound of energy weapons discharging nearby.
"They've breached the hull," one of the guards reported, checking his comm device. "Deck 7, Section 14."
"That's not far from here," Travis said, drawing his sidearm. "We need an alternate route."
The lead guard nodded. "This way, Your Highness."
They changed direction, taking a maintenance passage that would lead them to an emergency lift. Ashlee kept pace, her mind racing. If this attack was connected to the deaths on Almania, then the situation was far more complex than they had realized. Someone was willing to attack an Imperial Republic warship—an act that would inevitably lead to war—to prevent them from reaching Almania.
The maintenance passage ended at a junction, and the guards checked for threats before motioning them forward. As they entered the next corridor, the ship shuddered again from another impact.
"How much farther?" Ashlee asked, her voice steady despite the danger.
"The emergency bunker is one level down," the guard replied. "We'll use the service lift at the end of this corridor."
They had nearly reached the lift when the bulkhead ahead of them exploded inward in a shower of sparks and twisted metal. Through the smoke, Ashlee could make out armored figures advancing toward them, weapons raised.
The Royal Guards moved with practiced precision, forming a protective barrier around Ashlee and Travis while returning fire. Travis pushed Ashlee behind him, his own weapon drawn.
"Stay behind me," he ordered, though he knew his wife was far from helpless.
Ashlee felt a cold determination settle over her. She was a Stratus, and Stratuses did not cower or flee. She drew the compact blaster she kept concealed in her garments—a habit her brother James had insisted upon years ago.
"I think our path to the bunker has been compromised," she said with calm resolve, raising her weapon. "We'll need to find another way."
As the firefight intensified, Ashlee knew that whatever these attackers wanted, they had made a grave miscalculation. They had attacked a ship under the protection of the 5th Assault Fleet and targeted a member of the Royal Family. The response would be swift and merciless—assuming they survived long enough to see it.
Simon Morris had been halfway to the Princess's quarters when the ship was ripped from hyperspace. The sudden deceleration had thrown him against a bulkhead, but years of field training allowed him to recover quickly. His hand instinctively moved to the concealed blaster at his hip as the emergency klaxons began to sound.
"Deltrov," he spoke into his wrist communicator, "report status."
"Sir, the Princess's security detail is moving her to the emergency bunker on Deck 9. Unknown hostiles have breached the hull on Deck 7."
Simon processed this information rapidly. The timing was too perfect to be coincidence—this was connected to the attempt on the High Prince's life. Someone was targeting the royal family, and they had resources significant enough to attack an Imperial Republic assault ship.
"I'm heading to intercept the Princess's group," Simon said, already moving toward the nearest access ladder. The turbolifts would be locked down or prioritized for combat teams. "Alert our agents to converge on the emergency bunker."
He descended the ladder rapidly, his mind analyzing the situation. The breach on Deck 7 suggested the attackers knew exactly where to strike. That meant either precise intelligence or an informant aboard the ship. Either possibility was troubling.
Reaching Deck 8, Simon moved swiftly through the corridors, avoiding the main passageways where security forces would be engaged with the boarders. His DCI training had included detailed knowledge of Imperial ship layouts, and he navigated the maintenance passages with practiced ease.
His communicator chirped twice—the signal that indicated encrypted information had been received. He paused in a relatively secure alcove to check the message.
Hostiles identified: mixed species group, non-standard armor, advanced weaponry. Possible mercenaries. Breached in three locations. Primary group headed toward VIP quarters.
Simon frowned. Mercenaries suggested a third party rather than Almanian forces directly. But mercenaries of this caliber, with the resources to attack an Imperial assault ship, would be working for someone with significant wealth and influence.
He continued through the maintenance passages, eventually reaching a junction that would allow him to intercept the Princess's route to the emergency bunker. As he approached the exit, he heard the distinctive sound of blaster fire.
Drawing his weapon, Simon activated the door and assessed the situation in an instant. The Princess and her security detail were pinned down by a group of heavily armed attackers in non-standard armor—confirming the intel he'd received. Two of the Royal Guards were down, and the remaining guards, along with the Princess and her husband, were returning fire from behind limited cover.
Simon didn't hesitate. He activated his emergency override, sealing the blast doors at the far end of the corridor to cut off the attackers' reinforcements. Then he took aim at the closest hostile and fired with precision.
The shot caught the attacker in the gap between helmet and shoulder armor, dropping them instantly. Simon used the momentary confusion to advance, moving from cover to cover until he reached the Princess's position.
"Your Highness," he said, ducking down beside her, "I'm Chief Morris, Imperial Republic Intelligence. We need to move now."
Ashlee looked at him with a mixture of surprise and determination. "Chief Morris. I wasn't aware DCI had agents aboard."
"We're everywhere, Your Highness," Simon replied with a hint of professional pride. "Now, there's a secondary route to the emergency bunker through this maintenance passage. We need to go before they breach those blast doors."
Commodore Gourdine nodded grimly. "Lead the way, Chief."
Simon guided them back through the maintenance passage, sealing each door behind them to slow pursuit. As they moved, he updated his agents via secure comms, coordinating a defensive perimeter around their new route.
"Who are they?" Princess Ashlee asked as they navigated the narrow corridors. "Almanians?"
"Mercenaries," Simon replied. "Professional grade. Someone with resources wanted to prevent you from reaching Almania."
"Or wanted to capture us," Travis added. "A boarding action rather than destroying the ship suggests they want something—or someone—alive."
Simon nodded in agreement. "That's my assessment as well, Commodore. Which is why we need to get the Princess to the secure bunker immediately. Once there, we can hold out until Admiral Kelly regains control of the ship."
They reached another junction, and Simon checked his tactical display. The remaining Royal Guards formed a protective formation around the Princess and her husband as they continued toward the emergency bunker.
"Chief Morris," Princess Ashlee said quietly as they moved, "do you believe this attack is connected to the deaths on Almania?"
Simon met her gaze steadily. "I can't say for certain, Your Highness, but the timing suggests a connection. Someone doesn't want the Imperial Republic investigating those deaths too closely."
"Then we must ensure they fail," Ashlee replied, her expression hardening with royal resolve. "My friend was among those killed. I will not let his death—or this attack—go unanswered."
Simon recognized the determination in her voice—the same steely resolve he'd seen in her brother, the High Prince. The Stratus family was not known for backing down, and whoever had orchestrated these attacks would soon learn the cost of targeting the royal family.
But first, they needed to survive.
The bridge of the Scarlet Angel was a controlled chaos of activity as Admiral Kelly coordinated the ship's defense. The main viewscreen showed the enemy freighter locked in the ship's tractor beam, its hull scarred from turbolaser fire but still intact.
"Boarding parties have breached Decks 7, 12, and 15," the security chief reported. "Marines are engaging on all levels."
Kelly studied the tactical display, noting the enemy's approach vectors. "They're trying to reach the VIP quarters and the command deck simultaneously. Professional operation."
"Admiral," the communications officer called out, "encrypted transmission from Chief Morris. The Princess and her party are moving to an alternate secure location."
"Good. What's the status on that freighter?"
The tactical officer checked his readings. "Tractor beam is holding, but they've deployed some kind of magnetic grappling system. They're trying to secure themselves to our hull."
Kelly's expression hardened. If the enemy ship attached itself properly, it would be nearly impossible to shake free without damaging both vessels—and they couldn't risk harm to the Princess.
"All batteries, target their grappling points. Precision shots only. Navigation, prepare for emergency maneuvers the moment we're clear."
The Scarlet Angel shuddered as more enemy fighters strafed the hull. Kelly watched as his own fighter squadrons engaged the hostile cruisers, their nimble craft darting between the larger ships' defensive fire.
"Sir," the sensor operator announced, "detecting multiple hyperspace signatures incoming. Three... no, five ships dropping out of hyperspace."
Kelly's heart sank for a moment—until he saw the ship configurations on the tactical display.
"Imperial Republic transponder codes confirmed," the communications officer reported with evident relief. "It's the advance elements of Grand Admiral Taftican's task force."
Admiral Kelly allowed himself a brief smile. "Patch me through to the task force commander."
The holoprojector flickered to life, revealing the image of a stern-faced Imperial captain.
"Admiral Kelly," the captain said, "Admiral Voss commanding the advance squadron. We received your priority transmission. What's your situation?"
"Under attack by unknown forces," Kelly replied quickly. "Enemy boarding parties aboard. Princess Ashlee is secure but threatened. I need you to engage those cruisers and give me room to deal with this freighter."
"Understood. Beginning attack run now."
The viewscreen showed the incoming Imperial ships—two Strike-class cruisers and three corvettes—as they engaged the enemy vessels. Almost immediately, the hostile cruisers began to withdraw, their fighter squadrons retreating to cover the withdrawal.
"They're running," the tactical officer observed. "The freighter is trying to disengage as well."
"Not so fast," Kelly said grimly. "Security, what's the status on our boarding parties?"
"Marines have the hostiles contained on Deck 7. They're fighting hard, but they're outnumbered. Decks 12 and 15 are clear."
Kelly made his decision. "Tractor beam, increase power. Hold that freighter. I want prisoners for interrogation."
Staff Sergeant Torres pressed himself against the bulkhead as blaster fire erupted from the breach in Deck 7. The enemy boarders had established a defensive position in the cargo bay, using the stored supplies as cover.
"Grenades out!" he shouted to his squad.
The concussion grenades detonated in sequence, filling the cargo bay with smoke and debris. Torres led his marines forward, their armor sensors cutting through the haze to identify targets.
The enemy fighters were skilled—Torres had to give them that. They moved with professional precision, their equipment was top-grade, and they fought with the determination of experienced mercenaries. But they were outnumbered three to one, and the marines had the advantage of fighting on their own ship.
"Sector 7-Alpha clear!" reported Corporal Valdez over the comm.
"Moving to 7-Bravo," Torres responded, signaling his team to advance.
As they cleared the next section, Torres got his first clear look at the enemy soldiers. Mixed species, as reported—human, Rodian, and what looked like a heavily modified Weequay. Their armor was professional grade but unmarked, with no identifying symbols or unit designations.
"These aren't regular military," Torres muttered into his comm. "Definitely mercenaries."
One of the enemy soldiers raised his hands in surrender as the marines surrounded his position. Torres approached cautiously, weapon trained on the prisoner.
"Who sent you?" Torres demanded.
The mercenary—a scarred human with cybernetic implants—spat on the deck. "Go to hell, Imperial."
Torres nodded to his corporal, who activated a restraining field around the prisoner. "Bridge, this is Torres. We have the boarding party contained and one prisoner secured. Requesting intelligence personnel for interrogation."
The emergency bunker on Deck 9 was a reinforced chamber designed to protect VIP passengers during combat situations. Princess Ashlee sat across from her husband Travis, who was reviewing tactical reports on a portable display.
"The ship's fighters are performing well," Travis observed. "And it looks like reinforcements have arrived."
Chief Morris stood near the entrance, coordinating with his agents via secure communications. "Admiral Kelly has the situation under control. The enemy cruisers are withdrawing, and the marines have contained the boarding parties."
Ashlee felt a mixture of relief and frustration. "I don't like being helpless while others fight to protect me."
"You're not helpless," Travis assured her. "You're being strategic. Your survival is more important than your participation in this particular fight."
Simon Morris approached them. "Your Highness, we've captured at least one of the boarders alive. Once we reach the Mal'ury'ush, I recommend a full interrogation. These attackers knew too much about our route and timing."
"You suspect an intelligence leak?" Ashlee asked.
"It's possible. Or sophisticated surveillance of our communications. Either way, someone wanted to prevent you from reaching Almania."
Ashlee stood and moved to the small viewport that looked out into space. She could see the distant flashes of weapons fire as the enemy ships retreated.
"Then we've learned something valuable," she said quietly. "Someone is willing to risk war with the Imperial Republic to keep us away from Almania. That suggests the situation there is far more complex than simple murders of scientists."
Travis joined her at the viewport. "Whatever they're hiding, it must be significant."
"Yes," Ashlee agreed, her expression resolving into the familiar determination of House Stratus. "And now I'm more committed than ever to finding out what it is."
"Admiral," the communications officer reported, "all enemy vessels have withdrawn to hyperspace. The freighter is secured in our tractor beam, and boarding parties have been neutralized."
Kelly surveyed the tactical display with satisfaction. "Casualties?"
"Light on our side. Three wounded marines, minor hull damage to Sections 7 and 12. The enemy lost approximately half their boarding force."
"And our VIP passengers?"
"Safe and secure, sir. Chief Morris reports no injuries."
Kelly nodded approvingly. "Signal Admiral Voss my thanks for the timely intervention. Begin recovery operations on that freighter—I want every piece of intelligence we can extract from it."
He paused, considering the implications of the attack. "Communications, send an encrypted message to Grand Admiral Taftican and to the High Prince. Priority Alpha. 'Princess Ashlee secure following hostile action. Unknown forces attempted capture operation. Proceeding to rendezvous as planned. Will provide detailed intelligence on arrival.'"
As the bridge crew carried out his orders, Kelly reflected on the attack. Someone had committed significant resources to intercept the Princess—an act that guaranteed massive retaliation from the Imperial Republic. Whatever was happening on Almania, it was worth risking a war to someone.
He intended to find out who—and why.
The High Prince was in his private study, reviewing candidates for the vacant Chancellor position, when Kaidlen Shan burst through the doors without ceremony. The breach of protocol alone told James that something serious had occurred.
"Your Majesty," Kaidlen said, his voice tight with controlled urgency, "we've received a Priority Alpha transmission from Admiral Kelly."
James set down the datapad he'd been reading and looked up sharply. "The Scarlet Angel? What's happened?"
"Princess Ashlee's ship was attacked en route to Almania. Unknown hostile forces attempted what appears to have been a capture operation."
The High Prince rose slowly from his chair, his expression shifting from concern to cold fury. "Is she safe?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Admiral Kelly reports she is secure and unharmed. The attack was repelled with assistance from Grand Admiral Taftican's advance elements."
James moved to the large transparisteel window overlooking the palace gardens, his hands clasped behind his back. For a long moment, he was silent, and Kaidlen could see the tension in his ruler's shoulders.
"Someone," James said finally, his voice dangerously quiet, "has just made a grievous error in judgment."
He turned back to face Kaidlen. "First, an assassination attempt against me. Now an attack on my sister. This is not coincidence."
"No, Your Majesty. Intelligence suggests a coordinated effort to destabilize the royal family."
"Have Lan Klone and Simon Morris been informed of this development?"
"Yes, sir. They're coordinating the investigation from multiple angles."
James walked to his desk and activated the secure holocommunicator. "Get me Grand Admiral Quinn immediately."
Within moments, Quinn's holographic image appeared, the newly promoted Grand Admiral standing at attention in what appeared to be a command center.
"Your Majesty," Quinn said, "I've just received Admiral Kelly's report. How do you wish to proceed?"
"Jared," James said, using the Admiral's first name—a sign of both familiarity and the gravity of the situation, "I want you to take personal command of the response to this attack. Deploy the 3rd and 7th Fleets to the Almanian system immediately."
Quinn's expression sharpened. "That's a significant escalation, Your Majesty. Are we moving to a full invasion posture?"
"Someone has attacked my sister while she traveled under the protection of the Imperial Republic Navy. They have committed an act of war." James's voice carried the weight of absolute authority. "I want overwhelming force in that system. No one attacks House Stratus without consequences."
"Understood, sir. What are your orders regarding the original Almanian situation?"
James considered this. "The investigation into the scientists' deaths continues, but it's now secondary to identifying and neutralizing whoever orchestrated this attack. I want prisoners taken alive for interrogation."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
After ending the transmission, James turned back to Kaidlen. "Double the security details for all royal family members. I want Marc and Nicole under enhanced protection immediately."
"Already done, sir."
"Good." James paused, his analytical mind working through the implications. "Kaidlen, the timing of these attacks—just as the Chancellor resigns and we're dealing with the Almania crisis—suggests someone is trying to create maximum instability."
"That's our assessment as well, Your Majesty. The question is whether this is an external threat taking advantage of the transition, or if there are internal elements involved."
James's expression darkened. "If there are traitors within the Imperial Republic facilitating attacks on my family, they will be found and dealt with accordingly."
He moved back to his desk and pulled up another secure channel. "Get me Director Applebee at IRSB. I want a complete security review of all personnel with access to royal travel plans. And contact Terrisa Klone—I want IRSB and DCI working together on this."
"Sir," Kaidlen said carefully, "what about the Chancellor selection? The Senate is expecting an announcement."
"The Senate will wait," James replied curtly. "My first priority is the safety of my family and the security of the realm. Everything else is secondary."
As Kaidlen moved to carry out the orders, James remained standing at his desk, his mind racing through possibilities. The attack on Ashlee had been sophisticated, well-funded, and precisely timed. That suggested either a foreign power with significant resources or a conspiracy involving highly placed individuals within the Imperial Republic itself.
Either way, they had made a fundamental miscalculation. They had attacked House Stratus directly, and that demanded a response that would serve as a warning to anyone else who might harbor similar ambitions.
James activated his personal communicator. "Get me a direct line to Grand Admiral Taftican. I have new orders for her regarding the Almanian operation."
Grand Admiral Taftican stood on the bridge of her flagship, the Mal'ury'ush, reviewing the tactical situation when the priority transmission arrived from the High Prince. The news of the attack on Princess Ashlee sent a cold shock through her command staff.
"Admiral," her flag captain said quietly, "Admiral Kelly's ship is requesting immediate rendezvous."
"Grant it," Taftican replied, her mind already shifting to new tactical considerations. "And signal Admiral Voss to maintain escort formation around the Scarlet Angel until they reach us."
She turned to her chief of staff. "The nature of this operation has just changed fundamentally. We're no longer dealing with a simple investigation into the deaths of scientists. Someone committed significant resources to prevent Princess Ashlee from reaching this system."
"Orders, Admiral?"
"Tighten the blockade. Nothing gets in or out of this system without our knowledge. And begin deep-space scans for any unusual ship movements—whoever attacked the Princess had to stage from somewhere."
The tactical officer looked up from his console. "Admiral, we're receiving another transmission from Coruscant. Priority Alpha, directly from the High Prince."
Taftican moved to the secure communications station and activated the holographic receiver. The image of High Prince James Stratus appeared, and even through the holographic projection, she could see the controlled fury in his expression.
"Your Majesty," Taftican said, coming to attention.
"Tura," the High Prince said, using her first name—a sign of both trust and the personal nature of this conversation, "the attack on my sister changes everything. I'm authorizing you to take whatever actions you deem necessary to secure that system and identify the perpetrators."
"Understood, sir. What are your specific orders regarding the Almanian government?"
"If they're involved in or complicit with the attack on Ashlee, treat them as hostile. If they're not, they're now potential allies in identifying who is responsible."
Taftican nodded grimly. "Sir, Admiral Quinn is deploying additional fleets to this system?"
"The 3rd and 7th Fleets are en route. You'll have overwhelming force within seventy-two hours. But I don't want you to wait—begin aggressive intelligence gathering immediately."
"Yes, Your Majesty. What about the original investigation team that was murdered?"
"Continue that investigation as well, but prioritize finding out who has the resources and motivation to attack an Imperial Republic warship carrying my sister."
After the transmission ended, Taftican turned to address her senior staff. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are no longer conducting a limited blockade and investigation. Someone has declared war on the Imperial Republic by attacking Princess Ashlee. Our mission is now to find them and eliminate them."
Her intelligence officer raised a hand. "Admiral, should we assume the original murders on Almania and this attack are connected?"
"That's our working assumption until proven otherwise. The timing is too convenient to be coincidental." Taftican moved to the strategic display showing the Almanian system. "Begin interrogation of any Almanian vessels we've detained. I want to know if their government had advance knowledge of any operations against Imperial Republic ships."
"Admiral," her flag captain interjected, "Admiral Kelly's ship is approaching for rendezvous. They report captured enemy personnel aboard."
"Excellent. Prepare our best interrogation specialists. I want to know everything about who sent those mercenaries and why."
Taftican studied the tactical display, noting the positions of her ships around the Almanian homeworld. "Communications, open a channel to the Almanian government. It's time we had a direct conversation with their leadership about recent events."
As her staff moved to carry out the orders, Taftican reflected on the strategic implications. The attack on Princess Ashlee had escalated this from a criminal investigation to a potential military conflict. Someone had calculated that the risk of war with the Imperial Republic was acceptable to prevent the Princess from reaching Almania.
That suggested either desperation or resources significant enough to believe they could survive the Imperial Republic's response. Either way, they were about to learn the cost of attacking House Stratus.
End of Part 1
The detention cell aboard Grand Admiral Taftican's flagship was designed for holding high-value prisoners. Simon Morris stood outside the reinforced transparisteel barrier, reviewing the preliminary intelligence report on their captive. Beside him, Commander Ravik of ship security and Lieutenant Colonel Terrisa Klone waited for his assessment.
"What do we know about him?" Terrisa asked, studying the scarred human inside the cell.
"Vex Korlain," Simon replied, reading from his datapad. "Human male, approximately forty-five standard years. Multiple cybernetic implants—some medical, some enhancement. Criminal record spanning a dozen systems. Wanted for armed robbery, assault, and conspiracy charges on at least six worlds."
"Professional mercenary," Commander Ravik observed. "The kind you hire when you need people who won't ask questions."
Simon activated the cell's audio system. "Mr. Korlain, I'm Chief Morris with Imperial Republic Intelligence. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
The prisoner looked up from where he sat on the detention bench, his cybernetic eye glowing softly in the dim lighting. "Go to hell, Imperial."
"You attacked a ship carrying Princess Ashlee Stratus-Gourdine," Simon continued calmly. "That's an act of war against the Imperial Republic. Your only chance of avoiding execution is cooperation."
Korlain spat on the floor. "You think I'm stupid? You'll space me either way."
Simon exchanged a glance with Terrisa, then activated the wall display to show images of the other captured mercenaries. "Actually, Mr. Korlain, you're not the only survivor. Three of your colleagues are being very cooperative. They're telling us all about your employer, your mission parameters, even the payment structure."
The lie was calculated, and Simon watched for Korlain's reaction. The mercenary's expression tightened almost imperceptibly—a tell that suggested he knew more than he was letting on.
"So you can either help us fill in the details and possibly earn some consideration, or you can let your former comrades get all the benefits of cooperation while you face the full consequences."
Korlain was quiet for a long moment, his human eye studying Simon while the cybernetic one whirred softly as it focused. "What kind of consideration?"
"That depends on what you can tell us. Who hired you? How did they know the Princess's route? What was your mission objective?"
"I never dealt with the principals directly," Korlain said slowly. "Everything went through a handler. Military type—Almanian accent. Called himself Major Dex."
Simon felt a surge of interest but kept his expression neutral. "Tell me about this Major Dex."
"Never saw his face. Always wore a full helmet when we met. But he knew his business—provided detailed intelligence packages, precise timing, even ship configurations." Korlain leaned forward slightly. "This wasn't some amateur operation, Imperial. Whoever's behind this has access to your military communications."
Terrisa stepped closer to the barrier. "What were your orders regarding the Princess?"
"Capture, not kill. Dex made that very clear—she was to be taken alive and unharmed." Korlain's scarred face twisted into something resembling a smile. "Guess that didn't work out so well."
"Where were you supposed to take her?" Simon asked.
"Rendezvous coordinates in the Almanian system. Some kind of facility on one of the outer moons."
Simon and Terrisa exchanged another glance. This confirmed their suspicions about Almanian involvement, but raised new questions about the scope of the conspiracy.
"How many people were involved in this operation?" Simon continued.
"Our team was twenty-four strong. But Dex mentioned other assets—called them 'the Albatross.' Said they'd handle any Imperial response on the ground."
Simon felt his pulse quicken. The Albatross—that was new intelligence. "Tell me more about this Albatross."
"Elite unit, from what Dex said. Part of the Almanian military but with special authorization. He mentioned they'd been preparing for Imperial interference for months."
"Preparing how?"
Korlain shrugged. "Didn't get specifics. But Dex seemed confident they could handle whatever the Empire threw at them. Said something about 'the old ways being stronger than Imperial technology.'"
Simon frowned at that phrase. It had an almost mystical quality that didn't fit with standard military planning.
"Payment," Terrisa interjected. "How were you paid?"
"Credits transferred through a Corellian bank. Traced back to some kind of Almanian trade consortium." Korlain's cybernetic eye focused on her. "But the real money was supposed to come after completion. Dex promised a bonus that would set us up for life."
"How much?" Simon asked.
"Ten million credits. Each."
The amount was staggering. Simon did quick mental calculations—for a twenty-four-person team, that represented nearly a quarter billion credits in total payment. Whatever was at stake on Almania, someone considered it worth enormous expense.
"One more question, Korlain. Did Major Dex ever mention who he reported to? Any names or titles?"
The mercenary was quiet for a long moment, seemingly weighing his options. Finally, he spoke. "Only once. We were going over the mission timeline, and he got a communication. When he finished, he muttered something about 'His Excellency being impatient.' But that could mean anyone."
Simon nodded, filing away the information. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Korlain. This will be noted in your file."
As they walked away from the detention area, Terrisa shook her head. "A quarter billion credits. The Almanian government had to know about this operation."
"Maybe," Simon replied thoughtfully. "Or maybe someone within their government is running a private operation. This 'Albatross' unit—we need more information about them."
"I'll run a search through IRIS databases," Terrisa offered. "See what we have on Almanian special forces."
"Good. And I want to cross-reference any mentions of 'His Excellency' with Almanian leadership." Simon paused at a viewport, looking out at the distant planet of Almania. "Commander Ravik, how are the other prisoners?"
"Still being processed. Two humans, one Rodian. The Rodian seems the most nervous—might be worth focusing on him next."
"Do that. And keep them separated—I don't want them coordinating their stories."
As they prepared to continue the interrogations, Simon reflected on what they'd learned. The Albatross unit, the mysterious Major Dex, and the reference to "His Excellency" all pointed to a sophisticated conspiracy within the Almanian government. But the scale of the operation—and the enormous payment promised—suggested this went beyond simple political maneuvering.
Someone on Almania had resources to challenge the Imperial Republic directly. The question was whether they were acting alone or had backing from a larger power.
"Chief Morris," Terrisa said quietly, "do you think this connects to the scientist murders?"
Simon considered this carefully. "The timing suggests it. But we need more evidence before we can draw definitive conclusions."
He activated his secure communicator. "Grand Admiral Taftican, this is Chief Morris. We've obtained significant intelligence from the prisoner interrogation. I recommend we accelerate our intelligence gathering on Almania. We're dealing with a well-funded, organized conspiracy with military assets."
The reply came quickly. "Understood, Chief. Report to the briefing room in one hour. We're planning our next moves."
As they prepared for the briefing, Simon knew they were only beginning to uncover the scope of what they were facing. The attack on Princess Ashlee was just the beginning—and whoever was behind it had been planning for Imperial involvement for a long time.
The main briefing room aboard the Mal'ury'ush was filled with the senior staff of the Taftican Task Force. Grand Admiral Taftican stood at the head of the conference table, her hands clasped behind her back as she surveyed her officers. The holographic display showed the Almanian system, with Imperial fleet positions marked in blue and suspected enemy assets highlighted in red.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Taftican began, her voice carrying the authority of decades of naval command, "the intelligence gathered from our prisoner interrogations has fundamentally changed the nature of our mission here."
She activated the display, zooming in on Almania's capital city of Stonia. "Chief Morris, brief us on what we've learned."
Simon Morris stepped forward, consulting his datapad. "Admiral, we're dealing with a sophisticated conspiracy that extends deep into the Almanian military and government. The mercenaries were coordinated by someone calling himself 'Major Dex,' who provided detailed intelligence on Princess Ashlee's movements—intelligence that could only have come from sources with access to our classified communications."
A murmur went through the assembled officers. Captain Vex of the Determinate leaned forward. "Sir, are you suggesting we have a security breach?"
"Possibly. Or they have surveillance capabilities we haven't accounted for." Simon activated another section of the display. "More concerning is the reference to a unit called 'the Albatross'—an elite Almanian force that has apparently been preparing for Imperial intervention for months."
Admiral Taftican nodded grimly. "The same unit responsible for murdering our scientists. The timing suggests this was all part of a coordinated plan."
Colonel Hayes, the task force marine commander, spoke up. "What about the payment structure? Quarter billion credits suggests significant backing."
"Indeed," Taftican replied. "Someone on Almania has resources that rival planetary governments. They were willing to risk war with the Imperial Republic to prevent us from investigating those murders."
She gestured to the tactical display. "This changes our approach entirely. We're not dealing with a rogue planetary leader making poor decisions. We're facing an organized conspiracy with military assets, significant funding, and advance intelligence on our operations."
Captain Morrell of the intelligence division raised her hand. "Admiral, what are our orders regarding the Almanian government? Do we treat them as hostile?"
"That's what we need to determine," Taftican replied. "Chief Morris's intelligence suggests the conspiracy may be contained within certain elements of their government and military. Our job is to identify the loyalists from the conspirators."
She turned to address the room. "To that end, I'm implementing several new operational parameters. First, we're expanding our intelligence gathering operations. I want human intelligence assets on the ground in Stonia within forty-eight hours."
"Second, we're going to need specialists for this type of operation. Colonel Hayes, I'm reactivating Captain Kai'Len Ciunus and his special operations team. Their experience with irregular warfare will be essential."
The Colonel nodded approvingly. "Good choice, Admiral. Ciunus has been on stand-down since the Jensen incident, but he's ready to return to active duty."
"Third," Taftican continued, "we need contractors with local contacts and expertise in the Outer Rim. Chief Morris, I want you to reach out to reliable independent operators who can gather intelligence without official Imperial involvement."
Simon nodded, understanding the implication. "I have someone in mind, Admiral. A Mandalorian bounty hunter with experience in this sector. He's worked with Captain Ciunus before and has contacts throughout the criminal underworld."
"Excellent. Set it up." Taftican turned back to the display. "The High Prince has made it clear that an attack on Princess Ashlee is an attack on the Imperial Republic itself. We will find those responsible and bring them to justice. But we'll do it methodically and with precision."
Captain Vex raised another question. "Admiral, what about the Almanian government? Do we make contact?"
"We will, but carefully. I want to separate the innocent from the guilty before we make any diplomatic overtures. If there are Almanian officials who are genuinely unaware of this conspiracy, they could become valuable allies."
She deactivated the display. "Questions?"
When none came, she dismissed the meeting. "Colonel Hayes, have Captain Ciunus report to my ready room in two hours. Chief Morris, set up your contractor meeting as soon as possible. We move forward immediately."
As the officers filed out, Taftican remained behind, studying the tactical display. The attack on Princess Ashlee had been meant to capture her, not kill her. That suggested they wanted something specific—either information or leverage. Whatever they were planning, it went far beyond simple political maneuvering.
She activated her personal communicator. "Get me a secure channel to the High Prince. I need to brief him on our expanded operations."
Captain Kai'Len Ciunus stood at attention in Grand Admiral Taftican's ready room, his freshly pressed uniform bearing the insignia of Imperial Republic Special Forces. It had been months since he'd worn the uniform officially, and he felt both relief and apprehension at being called back to active duty.
"Captain," Admiral Taftican said, not looking up from the intelligence reports on her desk, "I trust you've been following recent events?"
"Yes, Admiral. The attack on Princess Ashlee and the murders on Almania." Kai'Len's voice was steady, professional. "I understand you need special operations support."
Taftican finally looked up, her gray eyes studying him carefully. "How are you holding up, Kai'Len? I know losing Jensen was difficult."
"I'm ready to return to duty, Admiral." He paused. "Jensen would want us to continue the mission."
"Good." She stood and activated the holographic display on her desk, showing the Almanian system. "What I'm about to tell you is classified at the highest levels. We have intelligence suggesting a sophisticated conspiracy within the Almanian government, backed by significant resources and advanced intelligence capabilities."
Kai'Len studied the display, his tactical mind already analyzing the situation. "Ground operations?"
"Eventually. But first, we need intelligence. Human intelligence. The kind of deep infiltration work that your team specializes in." She highlighted several locations on Almania's surface. "We need to identify the scope of this conspiracy and separate the guilty from the innocent."
"Understood. What assets do we have in place?"
"IRIS has two agents embedded in the local police force in Stonia. They're monitoring a Lieutenant named Riloan Cotar who seems to be conducting a legitimate investigation into the scientist murders. He may be clean."
Kai'Len nodded, filing away the information. "Timeline?"
"Forty-eight hours to insert. You'll be working with contractors as well—Chief Morris is arranging for a Mandalorian bounty hunter to assist with local contacts."
At the mention of a Mandalorian contractor, Kai'Len felt a spark of curiosity. "Do you have a name, Admiral?"
"Someone called Mij. Morris says he's worked with Imperial forces before and has experience in this sector."
Kai'Len couldn't suppress a slight smile. "I know Mij, Admiral. He's good at what he does. Unconventional, but reliable."
"Excellent. Then you'll be able to coordinate effectively." Taftican deactivated the display. "Captain, this mission is critical. Someone attacked Princess Ashlee specifically to prevent Imperial investigation of Almania. Whatever they're hiding, it's worth risking war to protect."
"Any theories, Admiral?"
"The scientists were investigating energy-emitting gems with potential lightsaber applications. The conspiracy involves an elite military unit called the Albatross. And someone with the resources to fund a quarter-billion-credit operation." She met his eyes. "Your job is to find out what connects all these elements."
Kai'Len came to attention. "Understood, Admiral. When do we deploy?"
"Report to the hangar bay at 0800 tomorrow. Your team will be briefed on the transport. And Captain?"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Be careful down there. These people have already shown they're willing to kill Imperial citizens and attack the royal family. They won't hesitate to eliminate anyone who gets too close to the truth."
As Kai'Len left the ready room, he felt the familiar surge of adrenaline that came with a new mission. Months of grief and inactivity were behind him now. It was time to get back to work—and the thought of working with Mij again added an element of anticipation to the challenge ahead.
The cantina on Level 1138 of Coruscant's industrial district was exactly the kind of place where Mij felt comfortable conducting business. Dim lighting, poor surveillance, and clientele who minded their own affairs made it ideal for discreet conversations. He sat in a corner booth, his helmet on the table beside a drink he hadn't touched, waiting for his Imperial contact.
When Chief Simon Morris arrived, dressed in civilian clothes but still obviously military in bearing, Mij gestured for him to sit.
"You Imperial intelligence types really need to work on blending in," Mij said with amusement. "Might as well have 'secret agent' tattooed on your forehead."
Simon slid into the booth, keeping his voice low. "And you Mandalorians really need to work on subtlety. Full armor in a civilian cantina isn't exactly inconspicuous."
"Touché." Mij leaned back. "So, what does the Empire need from an honest bounty hunter?"
"Intelligence gathering. Outer Rim work. Almania specifically."
Mij's expression grew more serious. "Almania? That's the planet where your people got murdered, right? And where someone attacked Princess Ashlee?"
"You've been keeping up with current events."
"It's my business to know what's happening, especially when it involves my vode." Mij picked up his drink. "I assume Kai'Len is involved in this?"
Simon nodded. "He's leading the ground operations team. Said he knows you."
"Ner vod and I go way back. If he's running the op, then this is serious business." Mij set down his drink. "What do you need?"
"Local contacts. Someone who can move freely in Stonia, gather information, make connections without raising suspicions. We have assets in place, but we need someone who can operate outside official channels."
"Bounty hunter work," Mij observed. "Track down information instead of people. I can do that. What's the pay structure?"
"Standard Imperial contractor rates, plus hazard pay. Fifty thousand credits up front, another hundred if you deliver actionable intelligence."
Mij whistled softly. "Generous. This really is serious."
"Someone attacked a member of the royal family and murdered eleven Imperial citizens. The High Prince wants answers."
"Fair enough." Mij leaned forward. "What specifically are you looking for?"
Simon activated a small holographic projector, showing a map of Stonia. "We need intelligence on a military unit called the Albatross. Elite forces, possibly involved in the scientist murders. We also need information on someone calling himself Major Dex, and any connections to the phrase 'His Excellency.'"
"That's a lot of threads to pull."
"There's something else. We have an IRIS-embedded asset monitoring a local police lieutenant named Riloan Cotar. Initial reports suggest he's clean—conducting a legitimate investigation. We need someone to make contact and assess whether he could be turned as an asset."
Mij studied the hologram. "Police contact work is delicate. If he's really clean, approaching him wrong could blow the whole operation."
"Exactly why we need someone with your skills. Someone who can pose as a concerned citizen with information, rather than an Imperial agent."
"Mandalorian armor tends to stand out on Almania."
"We have alternative gear available. Imperial quartermaster can outfit you with local civilian clothes, modify your equipment for concealment."
Mij considered the offer. "When do I deploy?"
"Tomorrow. You'll rendezvous with Kai'Len's team at the insertion point. Coordinate your approaches but operate independently."
"And if things go bad?"
"Extraction protocols are in place. But Mij—these people have significant resources and aren't afraid to use them. Watch your back."
Mij extended his hand. "You've got a deal, Morris. The Empire gets my services, and I get to work with my brother again. Plus, anyone who attacks the royal family needs to answer for it."
As they shook hands, Simon felt a sense of satisfaction. With Kai'Len's experience and Mij's underworld contacts, they'd have the intelligence assets needed to penetrate the Almanian conspiracy.
"Report to Hangar Bay 94 at 0700 tomorrow. Kai'Len will brief you on the specifics."
After Morris left, Mij remained in the cantina, finishing his drink and contemplating the mission ahead. He'd warned Kai'Len that trouble was coming—now they'd face it together, as brothers should.
The Imperial quartermaster depot was not a place Mij had ever expected to visit, but the efficiency impressed him. Within two hours, they had outfitted him with local Almanian civilian clothes, modified his equipment for concealment, and provided him with a cover identity complete with documentation.
"Jorik Velt, independent salvage operator," the quartermaster sergeant explained, handing him the identification cards. "Legitimate business background, explains why you'd be asking questions about industrial operations and military movements."
Mij studied the documents. "Good cover. Salvage operators need to know what's happening locally to avoid trouble."
"Exactly. You'll have a small freighter for transportation—nothing fancy, but it fits the cover. Your weapons are concealed in the ship's hidden compartments."
As Mij prepared for the mission, he reflected on the intelligence Morris had shared. A quarter-billion-credit operation, military units with advance knowledge of Imperial movements, and someone willing to attack the royal family—this was bigger than a simple planetary conspiracy.
His comm device chirped with an encrypted message from Kai'Len: "Ready to work together again, brother? This one's going to be interesting."
Mij smiled as he replied: "Wouldn't miss it, vode. Time to find out what these aruetti are really up to."
The hunt was about to begin.
Lieutenant Riloan Cotar sat at his desk in the Stonia Police Station, reviewing case files by the dim light of emergency power cells. The Imperial blockade had been in effect for thirty-six hours now, and already the city was feeling the strain. Power grids were operating on reduced capacity, supply shipments had been halted, and civilian morale was deteriorating rapidly.
The comm system crackled with reports from patrol units throughout the city—minor riots in the industrial district, food hoarding in the residential sectors, and increased military presence from the Albatross units. Cotar couldn't shake the feeling that his investigation into the murdered Imperials had somehow triggered this crisis.
His supervisor, Captain Voss, had been conspicuously absent since the blockade began. In fact, most of the senior command staff seemed to have vanished, leaving junior officers like Cotar to maintain order with skeleton crews and dwindling resources.
"Lieutenant?" Officer Jenna Kree approached his desk nervously. "There's someone here to see you. Says he has information about the Imperial murders."
Cotar looked up, immediately alert. "What kind of information?"
"Wouldn't say. But he's not local—some kind of salvage operator. Says he saw something the night those people were killed."
Cotar considered this carefully. Since the murders, witnesses had been scarce. Most citizens were too afraid to come forward, especially with the Albatross patrols increasing their presence in the city.
"Put him in Interview Room 2. I'll be there in a moment."
As he gathered his case files, Cotar reflected on how much his world had changed in just a few days. The investigation that had seemed routine was now connected to an Imperial blockade, and he was beginning to suspect that forces far beyond his understanding were at work.
Mij adjusted his civilian clothes as he waited in the police station's interview room. The Imperial quartermaster had done good work—the salvage operator outfit was convincing, complete with work stains and wear patterns that suggested months of honest labor. His weapons were concealed beneath loose clothing, and his Mandalorian heritage was hidden behind a carefully cultivated Outer Rim accent.
The door opened and a young Almanian officer entered. Mij immediately assessed him—tired, stressed, but with an alertness that suggested competence. This was Riloan Cotar, and from what Mij could observe, he seemed like someone genuinely trying to do his job under difficult circumstances.
"I'm Lieutenant Cotar," the officer said, settling into the chair across from Mij. "Officer Kree says you have information about the Imperial murders."
"Name's Jorik Velt," Mij replied, keeping his voice steady and unremarkable. "I run salvage operations in this sector. Was working a job near the industrial district three nights ago when I saw something unusual."
Cotar activated a recording device. "What did you see?"
"Military vehicles. Albatross markings." Mij leaned forward slightly, as if sharing something confidential. "Look, Lieutenant, I've been in this business long enough to know when to keep my mouth shut. But with this Imperial blockade, things are getting serious. Figured you should know what I saw."
The mention of Albatross vehicles caught Cotar's attention immediately. "Can you be more specific about what you observed?"
"Three armored transports, moving fast through the industrial district around 0200 hours. Saw them stop near where I heard those Imperials were found the next day." Mij paused, letting the information sink in. "Thing is, they weren't responding to anything. This was planned movement."
Cotar made notes, his expression growing more troubled. "Did you see any personnel? Anyone you could identify?"
"Negative on identification. But I know military movement when I see it." Mij studied Cotar's reaction carefully. "Lieutenant, can I ask you something off the record?"
Cotar hesitated, then deactivated the recording device. "What is it?"
"What's really going on here? I've been working this sector for years, and I've never seen anything like this blockade response. Eleven dead Imperials—that's serious—but this feels like preparation for war."
The question seemed to hit Cotar personally. He was quiet for a long moment, and Mij could see the internal struggle playing out on his face.
"Honestly, Mr. Velt, I don't know," Cotar finally said. "Three days ago I was investigating what looked like a straightforward multiple homicide. Now there's an Imperial blockade, my superiors have disappeared, and I'm getting pressure from the Albatross to close the case."
"Pressure to close it? With no arrests?"
"That's what doesn't make sense." Cotar leaned back in his chair. "If the Albatross were responding to Imperial aggression, why would they want the investigation stopped? Wouldn't they want the perpetrators found?"
Mij recognized the opening he'd been waiting for. "Unless they already know who the perpetrators are."
The words hung in the air between them. Cotar's expression shifted from confusion to a dawning realization that clearly disturbed him.
"Mr. Velt, what exactly are you suggesting?"
"I'm not suggesting anything, Lieutenant. I'm just a salvage operator who saw military vehicles where dead Imperials were found the next day." Mij stood up slowly. "But if I were in your position, I might wonder why my superiors don't want me to investigate further."
Cotar was quiet for several minutes, processing the implications. When he spoke again, his voice was careful. "If... hypothetically... someone wanted to conduct a proper investigation, what kind of evidence would they need?"
"Hypothetically?" Mij sat back down. "They'd need someone who could move freely around the city. Someone who understands military operations but isn't part of the official chain of command. Someone who has nothing to lose by asking the right questions."
"And you'd be willing to help with a hypothetical investigation?"
"I've got nowhere else to be until this blockade lifts. And I don't like seeing good cops get pressured to ignore evidence."
Cotar reactivated the recording device and spoke formally. "Mr. Velt, thank you for your statement regarding the Imperial murders. If you recall any additional details, please contact the Stonia Police Department."
He deactivated the device again and wrote something on a piece of paper, sliding it across the table. "My personal comm frequency. If you see anything else unusual, let me know."
Mij pocketed the paper. "I'll keep my eyes open, Lieutenant. These are dangerous times—good to know there are still honest cops trying to do the right thing."
As Mij left the police station, he reflected on the meeting's success. Cotar was definitely clean—an honest officer caught up in a conspiracy beyond his understanding. More importantly, he was now aware that something was wrong and was willing to investigate further.
Mij activated his encrypted comm as he walked through Stonia's increasingly tense streets. "Kai'Len, it's your brother. Made contact with our police friend. He's clean and ready to cooperate. Also confirmed Albatross involvement in the murders—vehicles were seen at the scene before the bodies were discovered."
The reply came quickly: "Good work, Mij. Can you maintain contact without raising suspicions?"
"Already set up. He thinks I'm a salvage operator with useful observations. What's your status?"
"Ground team inserts tonight. We'll coordinate approaches. Stay safe down there, brother."
As Mij made his way back to his cover ship, he noticed the increased Albatross patrols throughout the city. Whatever this conspiracy was planning, they were tightening their control over Stonia. The question was whether they were preparing for Imperial invasion—or something else entirely.
One thing was certain: Lieutenant Riloan Cotar was now an ally in uncovering the truth. And from what Mij had observed, they would need all the help they could get.
The stealth transport Shadow's Edge dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Almanian system under full sensor dampening. Captain Kai'Len Ciunus stood in the cramped passenger compartment, checking his equipment one final time as his team prepared for insertion. The modified light freighter would get them past the Imperial blockade and onto Almania's surface without official Imperial involvement—maintaining plausible deniability for the operation.
"Five minutes to insertion point," called the pilot, a grizzled veteran named Korr who specialized in covert operations. "Weather's clear, but I'm picking up increased Albatross patrol activity near Stonia."
Kai'Len turned to address his team. Four specialists, each chosen for their unique skills and experience with irregular warfare. Sergeant Vex Thorne, demolitions and heavy weapons expert; Corporal Nira Shan, communications and slicing specialist; Private Jorik Hale, reconnaissance and survival expert; and Private Kira Dast, medic and linguist.
"Remember," Kai'Len said, his voice carrying the authority of years of special operations experience, "we're not here to start a war. We're here to gather intelligence and identify the scope of this conspiracy. Rules of engagement are defensive only unless directly threatened."
Sergeant Thorne adjusted his equipment pack. "What about our Mandalorian contact, Captain?"
"Mij is already in place and has made contact with the local police asset. He'll provide us with current intelligence and assist with local navigation." Kai'Len activated his tactical display. "Our primary objectives are threefold: identify Albatross operational capabilities, locate this 'Major Dex' and his command structure, and determine what the conspirators are trying to hide."
Corporal Shan looked up from her communications equipment. "Captain, I'm detecting heavy encryption on Albatross military channels. They're using sophisticated comm security—much more advanced than standard planetary militia equipment."
"Noted. That supports the intelligence about outside backing." Kai'Len studied the display showing Stonia's layout. "We insert here, in the industrial district. Abandoned manufacturing complex that will provide concealment and multiple escape routes. Mij will meet us there in six hours."
"One minute to insertion," Korr announced. "Albatross patrol just passed through the area—you're clear for the next twenty minutes."
The team moved efficiently to the cargo bay as the ship descended through Almania's atmosphere. Each member carried minimal equipment—weapons, communications gear, and mission-specific supplies. Everything was designed for stealth and mobility.
"Remember your cover stories," Kai'Len said as they prepared to deploy. "We're independent contractors hired to assess industrial salvage opportunities. It explains our presence and our interest in infrastructure conditions."
The ship touched down briefly in the shadow of a massive, derelict factory complex. The team disembarked quickly, disappearing into the industrial maze as the Shadow's Edge lifted off and vanished into the night sky.
The abandoned electronics factory provided excellent concealment for the team's temporary base. Kai'Len surveyed the structure—multiple levels, numerous access points, and a location that offered good sight lines while remaining hidden from casual observation. The building's original security systems had been disabled years ago, making it ideal for their purposes.
"Thorne, secure the perimeter. Set up motion sensors on all ground-level approaches," Kai'Len ordered. "Shan, establish communications with the fleet and begin monitoring local frequencies. I want to know what the Albatross are talking about."
"Copy that, Captain," Shan replied, setting up her equipment in what had once been the factory's administrative office. "Should I attempt to contact our Mandalorian friend?"
"Negative. He'll contact us according to the schedule. We maintain communication discipline until then."
Private Hale returned from his reconnaissance sweep. "Captain, building is secure. No signs of recent occupation, but there are Albatross patrol routes that pass within two hundred meters every ninety minutes."
"Good intel. What about civilian activity?"
"Limited. Most of the industrial district seems to be operating on reduced shifts since the blockade began. Saw some local workers, but they appeared nervous and were avoiding the patrol routes."
Kai'Len nodded, filing away the information. "Dast, what's the medical situation? Any signs of civil unrest or casualties?"
"From what I observed during insertion, the civilian population appears stressed but not panicked. No obvious signs of violence or unrest. Food distribution seems to be continuing, but at reduced levels."
"That suggests the Almanian government is maintaining basic services despite the blockade. Interesting." Kai'Len activated his portable tactical display, showing the team's position relative to key targets in Stonia. "Our priority intelligence targets are the Albatross command center, any facilities associated with the murdered scientists' investigation, and the location where our Mandalorian contact observed military vehicles."
Corporal Shan looked up from her communications array. "Captain, I'm intercepting increased Albatross communications traffic. They're using code words, but the pattern suggests heightened alert status."
"In response to our insertion?"
"Unlikely. This started several hours ago, before we arrived. Could be related to the blockade, or..." She paused, listening to her headset. "Sir, they're discussing something called 'Protocol Seven.' Multiple references across different units."
"Protocol Seven?" Kai'Len filed the information. "Keep monitoring. Any mention of Major Dex or His Excellency?"
"Negative so far, but I'll flag those terms for priority monitoring."
A soft chime from Kai'Len's communicator indicated an incoming encrypted message. He activated the device, revealing a text transmission from Mij: "Local police contact established and cooperative. Albatross confirmed at murder scene. Suggest meeting location Gamma for intelligence exchange. Your brother sends regards."
Kai'Len smiled slightly at Mij's casual tone despite the secure nature of their communication. "Shan, encrypt and transmit: 'Understood. Will meet at Gamma in four hours. Maintain cover.' Send to our contractor friend."
As the team settled into their temporary base, Kai'Len reviewed their situation. They were in hostile territory, surrounded by an elite military unit that had already demonstrated willingness to kill Imperial citizens. But they had local intelligence assets, good concealment, and the element of surprise.
"Listen up," he addressed his team. "We're dealing with a sophisticated enemy that has advanced equipment, extensive local knowledge, and significant resources. But they've also made mistakes—attacking Princess Ashlee revealed their hand, and the mercenary attack provided us with intelligence on their operations."
He pointed to the tactical display. "Our advantage is that they don't know we're here yet. We use that advantage to gather as much intelligence as possible before they realize Imperial special forces are operating on Almania."
Sergeant Thorne checked his weapons systems. "Rules of engagement if we're discovered, Captain?"
"Avoid contact if possible. If engagement is unavoidable, minimum necessary force to extract safely. Our mission is intelligence gathering, not direct action." Kai'Len paused. "But if they threaten civilians or Imperial personnel, we respond accordingly."
As night fell over Stonia, the special operations team prepared for their first intelligence gathering mission. Somewhere in the city, Mij was maintaining contact with Lieutenant Cotar and building their network of local assets. Above them, Grand Admiral Taftican's fleet maintained the blockade while political pressure mounted for answers.
The hunt for the truth behind the Almanian conspiracy was now truly underway.
The meeting location "Gamma" was an abandoned warehouse four blocks from their base, chosen for its multiple escape routes and lack of surveillance equipment. Captain Kai'Len Ciunus arrived first, moving through the industrial district's maze of loading docks and service tunnels with the practiced stealth of years of special operations experience.
Mij arrived precisely on time, appearing from a different direction and scanning the area with professional caution before approaching. Despite his civilian disguise, Kai'Len could see the familiar alertness of a warrior beneath the salvage operator's coveralls.
"Ner vod," Mij said quietly as they clasped forearms in traditional Mandalorian greeting. "Good to be working together again."
"Likewise, brother. What's the situation with our police contact?"
"Riloan Cotar is clean and cooperative. More than that—he's genuinely disturbed by what he's discovered about his own chain of command." Mij activated a small holographic projector, showing a map of Stonia. "His superiors have disappeared since the blockade began. The Albatross are pressuring him to close the investigation. And he's identified military vehicle movements that correspond to the scientist murders."
Kai'Len studied the hologram. "What's his assessment of local sentiment?"
"Mixed. The civilian population is scared but not actively hostile to the Empire. Most people want the blockade lifted so they can return to normal life. But there's a hardcore faction that supports the Albatross completely."
"Any indication of outside support for the Albatross?"
"That's where it gets interesting." Mij highlighted several locations on the map. "Cotar mentioned equipment that doesn't match standard Almanian military issue. Advanced communications gear, weapons with Imperial-grade sophistication, and coordination that suggests professional training beyond what a planetary militia should have."
"Consistent with our intelligence from the prisoner interrogations. Someone with significant resources is backing this operation." Kai'Len zoomed in on the government district. "What about political leadership? Any read on whether the planetary government is complicit or compromised?"
"Cotar thinks they're compromised, not complicit. From what he's observed, the legitimate government officials seem to be marginalized or excluded from current decision-making."
"A shadow government run by the conspirators." Kai'Len filed away the information. "My team intercepted communications referencing something called 'Protocol Seven.' Any insight on that?"
Mij shook his head. "Nothing from Cotar. But I can ask him to look into it without raising suspicions."
"Do that. Also, we need to identify the location of this Major Dex and any facilities connected to the original scientist investigation."
"Already working on it. Cotar has access to the case files and evidence logs. He might be able to trace where the scientists were planning to conduct their research."
Kai'Len deactivated the hologram. "Excellent work, Mij. What's your assessment of the timeline? How long before the Albatross realize they have Imperial operatives on the ground?"
"Hard to say. They're focused on the blockade response right now, but they're not stupid. If we start asking too many questions or poking around their sensitive sites, they'll notice."
"Understood. We'll coordinate our intelligence gathering to avoid overlapping searches." Kai'Len handed Mij a small communication device. "Encrypted comm unit. Use it for urgent intelligence or if you need extraction."
"What about the endgame, brother? We gather this intelligence, but then what? The conspirators aren't going to just surrender when we expose them."
Kai'Len was quiet for a moment, considering the question. "That's above our pay grade, Mij. Our job is to provide Admiral Taftican with actionable intelligence. How she chooses to use it is her decision."
"Fair enough. But these people have already shown they're willing to kill Imperial citizens and attack the royal family. When they realize we're closing in, they'll escalate."
"All the more reason to gather our intelligence quickly and efficiently." Kai'Len checked his chronometer. "Next contact in twelve hours unless emergency circumstances arise. Maintain your cover and be careful with Cotar—he's valuable, but he's also vulnerable."
As they prepared to leave, Mij grasped Kai'Len's shoulder. "Watch your back out there, vode. This feels bigger than anything we've dealt with before."
"You too, brother. And remember—we're not just gathering intelligence. We're protecting the Imperial Republic's right to walk freely among the stars without fear."
As they separated into the night, both men understood that they were facing a conspiracy that threatened not just Almania, but the fundamental principles of Imperial citizenship that the High Prince had declared in the Senate. The Stratus Doctrine was being tested, and they were the instruments of that test.
Lieutenant Cotar returned to the police station after his meeting with the salvage operator, his mind racing with new possibilities. Jorik Velt's observations about Albatross vehicles at the murder scene before the bodies were discovered had confirmed his growing suspicions about his own department's involvement in the cover-up.
The station was operating with skeleton crew due to the blockade, which actually worked in Cotar's favor. Fewer people around meant less chance of someone reporting his activities to the Albatross. He settled at his desk and activated his computer terminal, accessing the case files for the Imperial murders.
The official investigation had been perfunctory at best. Witness statements were minimal, forensic analysis was incomplete, and the crime scene had been released back to civilian control within hours of the discovery—highly unusual for a multiple homicide. But Cotar had access to records that went beyond the official case file.
He pulled up the city's traffic monitoring system, which tracked vehicle movements through Stonia's main thoroughfares. If Velt was right about Albatross vehicles being in the area, there should be some record. The system was automated and didn't require authorization to access—a oversight that might prove valuable.
Time index: 0147 hours, three nights ago.
Cotar scrolled through the traffic data, looking for military vehicle registrations in the industrial district. The system showed normal civilian traffic until 0152 hours, when three vehicles with Albatross designation codes appeared on the monitoring grid.
Vehicle Alpha-Seven-Seven: Last known position Grid 23-Delta, 0156 hours.
Vehicle Alpha-Seven-Nine: Last known position Grid 24-Delta, 0154 hours.
Vehicle Alpha-Eight-One: Last known position Grid 23-Echo, 0158 hours.
Grid 23-Delta was exactly where the Imperial bodies had been found the next morning.
Cotar felt his pulse quicken. This was direct evidence placing Albatross units at the murder scene during the timeframe when the killings would have occurred. But the vehicles had disappeared from the monitoring system after those timestamps—their tracking beacons had been deactivated.
He pulled up the personnel records for the Albatross units. Access to military files was restricted, but his police credentials allowed limited inquiry for "investigative purposes." What he found was disturbing.
Alpha Company, Seventh Battalion - "The Albatross Elite"
Commanding Officer: Major Dex Korvain
Unit Specialization: Counter-intelligence, Special Operations
Current Status: Classified Operations Authority
Major Dex. Cotar stared at the name on his screen. This had to be the same "Major Dex" that Velt had mentioned during their conversation. But the file showed no photograph, minimal background information, and a service record that was largely redacted.
More troubling was the unit's current status. "Classified Operations Authority" meant they were operating under special orders that superseded normal military chain of command. Only the highest levels of planetary government could authorize such status.
Cotar accessed the communication logs for the night of the murders. Police dispatch records showed no calls to the industrial district until 0847 hours the following morning—when an elderly woman reported finding the bodies. But the emergency services log showed ambulance deployment at 0203 hours to the same location, then immediate recall with notation "False alarm—no services required."
Someone had called for emergency medical response during the time frame when the murders were occurring, then cancelled the request. The call had come from a military communication channel.
"Working late, Lieutenant?"
Cotar spun around to find Sergeant Voss standing behind his desk. His supervisor had been absent for two days, and his sudden appearance set Cotar's nerves on edge.
"Just reviewing case files, Sergeant. Trying to stay current during the reduced staffing."
Voss moved closer, glancing at Cotar's computer screen. "The Imperial murders? I thought that case was closed."
"Not officially closed, sir. Just... deprioritized due to the current situation."
"Good. Good." Voss settled into a chair next to Cotar's desk. "These are difficult times, Lieutenant. The blockade has everyone on edge. Sometimes it's better to focus on cases we can actually solve rather than chasing shadows."
The warning was clear, but Cotar pressed carefully forward. "Of course, Sergeant. Though I did receive some new witness information today. A salvage operator who may have seen military vehicles in the area."
Voss's expression hardened almost imperceptibly. "Military vehicles? In the industrial district? That's not unusual during heightened security periods."
"True, sir. I just thought it might be worth noting in the file."
"I wouldn't worry about it, Lieutenant. Military operations are outside our jurisdiction anyway." Voss stood up. "Take my advice—focus on civilian matters. Let the Albatross handle military security."
After Voss left, Cotar sat quietly for several minutes, processing the interaction. His supervisor's reaction to the mention of military vehicles had been telling. Voss knew something about Albatross involvement and wanted the investigation stopped.
Cotar made a decision. He copied the traffic monitoring data, emergency services logs, and military personnel files to a portable storage device, then deleted his access history from the police system. If he was going to continue investigating, he needed to do it off the official record.
Back at the Imperial special forces base, Corporal Shan had been monitoring Albatross communications for six hours when she detected something significant. The encrypted military frequencies had been carrying routine traffic—patrol assignments, supply requisitions, status reports—but at 0347 hours, the pattern changed dramatically.
"Captain," she called to Kai'Len, who was reviewing intelligence reports. "I'm seeing a major shift in Albatross communication patterns. Multiple units are switching to high-priority encrypted channels."
Kai'Len moved to her station. "Can you decrypt any of it?"
"Working on it. They're using sophisticated encryption, but some of the command protocols are standard Imperial-derived formats. I might be able to break through." Shan's fingers flew over her equipment. "There—I'm getting partial decryption on the command frequency."
Static filled the air, then partially comprehensible voices emerged:
"—all units, Protocol Seven is now in effect. Repeat, Protocol Seven authorization confirmed—"
"—immediate containment of all investigative assets. Priority Alpha targets to be—"
"—evidence destruction teams deploy to locations Gamma through Epsilon. Complete sterilization required—"
"—civilian assets showing curiosity about restricted zones will be classified as security threats—"
Kai'Len listened intently as Shan continued working to improve the signal clarity. "Protocol Seven... that's what we picked up earlier. Whatever it is, it's happening now."
The communications continued:
"—His Excellency requires absolute security during transition phase. No witnesses, no evidence, no complications—"
"—prepare for Imperial response escalation. Ground teams may be deployed. Maintain defensive postures but avoid direct engagement unless absolutely necessary—"
"—Lieutenant Cotar flagged as potential security risk. Recommend immediate containment—"
Kai'Len felt ice in his veins at the mention of Cotar's name. "Shan, get me an encrypted channel to Mij immediately. Emergency priority."
As Shan worked to establish communication, more fragments came through:
"—facility Seven requires complete lockdown. No access without direct authorization from Major Korvain—"
"—gem research data to be transferred to secure location. Dr. Thale's backup files must be eliminated—"
"—if Imperial special forces are confirmed on planet, Protocol Seven escalates to Protocol Nine. All containment becomes permanent—"
The transmission cut to static as the Albatross switched to even higher levels of encryption. Shan looked up at Kai'Len with concern. "Captain, Protocol Seven appears to be a comprehensive security lockdown combined with evidence destruction and elimination of potential witnesses."
"And Protocol Nine?"
"Based on the context, it sounds like authorization to kill anyone who poses a security risk—including Imperial personnel."
Kai'Len activated the encrypted communicator. "Mij, emergency contact. Acknowledge immediately."
The reply came within seconds: "Here, brother. What's the situation?"
"Protocol Seven is active. Albatross are moving to eliminate witnesses and evidence. Cotar has been specifically identified as a security risk. You need to get him out of there immediately."
"Understood. I'm ten minutes from the police station. What about the investigation materials?"
"Whatever he's found, he needs to secure it now. Protocol Seven includes destroying evidence related to the gem research and Dr. Thale's work."
"Copy that. Moving to extract our police friend now."
As Mij signed off, Kai'Len turned back to Shan. "Keep monitoring their communications. I need to know the moment they escalate to Protocol Nine."
"Yes, sir. But Captain, if they're moving to eliminate witnesses, that includes civilian investigators like Lieutenant Cotar."
"I know." Kai'Len studied the tactical display showing Stonia's layout. "And if they're willing to kill a police officer conducting a legitimate investigation, they'll definitely kill Imperial special forces operatives."
The conspiracy had just revealed its true nature. This wasn't just about covering up the murders of Imperial scientists—it was about protecting something so valuable that they were willing to commit genocide to keep it secret. The gems that Princess Ashlee's team had been investigating weren't just energy sources—they were the key to something that the conspirators considered worth any price to protect.
"Thorne, Hale, gear up for possible extraction," Kai'Len ordered. "We may need to move fast if this situation deteriorates."
As his team prepared for potential action, Kai'Len reflected grimly on what they'd discovered. Protocol Seven was the Albatross conspiracy's endgame—eliminate all evidence, kill all witnesses, and maintain absolute security at any cost. And if Imperial forces were detected on Almania, Protocol Nine would authorize the elimination of Imperial personnel as well.
They were no longer just gathering intelligence. They were in a race against time to uncover the conspiracy before the Albatross eliminated everyone who could expose the truth.
Mij gunned the engine of his salvage speeder as he raced through Stonia's darkened streets toward the police station. The city was under curfew due to the blockade, which meant fewer civilian witnesses but also made his vehicle more conspicuous to Albatross patrols.
His encrypted comm crackled with updates from Kai'Len: "Multiple Albatross units mobilizing. They're moving fast, brother. ETA to police station is approximately eight minutes."
"Copy that. I'm four minutes out." Mij took a hard right turn into an alley, cutting through the industrial district to avoid the main thoroughfares. "Any word on civilian evac protocols?"
"Negative. Protocol Seven seems focused on specific targets, not general population. But they're definitely moving to contain Cotar."
Mij's jaw tightened. Lieutenant Cotar was a good man caught up in a conspiracy beyond his understanding. The idea of the Albatross eliminating him for trying to do his job properly infuriated the Mandalorian.
He activated his personal comm and tried to reach Cotar directly. The connection took several seconds to establish—not a good sign.
"Cotar here." The lieutenant's voice was tense.
"Velt here. We need to meet immediately. Emergency."
"I can't leave the station right now. There's been some... developments in the case."
"What kind of developments?"
"Better discussed in person. But I found evidence that confirms what you told me about the military vehicles."
Mij could hear voices in the background—official-sounding voices that didn't belong to the skeleton crew that should be manning the station during curfew.
"Cotar, listen to me carefully. You need to leave that building right now. Grab whatever evidence you've found and meet me at—"
The line went dead.
"Osik," Mij cursed in Mando'a, pushing his speeder to maximum velocity. He activated his tactical comm. "Kai'Len, I lost contact with Cotar. Sounds like the Albatross may already be at the police station."
"Understood. What's your plan?"
"Going in. If they have him, I'll get him out."
"Mij, that's a suicide mission. Unknown number of hostiles, fortified position—"
"I'm not leaving him to those aruetti, brother. Cotar risked his neck to help us. We don't abandon allies."
Kai'Len was quiet for a moment. "Copy that. We'll provide support if possible. But maintain comm discipline—if this goes bad, we can't compromise the larger mission."
Mij reached the police station and immediately spotted the problem. Three Albatross military vehicles were parked outside—the same vehicle types that traffic monitoring had recorded at the murder scene. Armed figures in military gear were positioned at the building's entrances.
He parked his speeder two blocks away and approached on foot, using the urban environment for concealment. His civilian disguise wouldn't hold up under close scrutiny from military personnel, but in the darkness it might buy him the seconds he needed.
Cotar sat at his desk, the portable storage device containing his evidence hidden in his jacket pocket, as Major Dex Korvain stood over him. The Albatross commander was exactly what Cotar had expected—tall, imposing, with the bearing of a professional soldier and the cold eyes of someone accustomed to making difficult decisions.
"Lieutenant Cotar," Major Korvain said, his voice carrying quiet authority, "I understand you've been conducting some unauthorized research into the Imperial murders."
"Just following up on witness statements, sir. Standard police procedure."
"Standard procedure doesn't include accessing military personnel files without proper authorization."
Cotar kept his expression neutral, but internally he cursed. They'd been monitoring his computer access. "I was trying to verify witness accounts of military vehicles in the area. Seemed relevant to the investigation."
Major Korvain moved around the desk, positioning himself between Cotar and the station's exits. Two Albatross soldiers flanked the doorway, their weapons visible but not directly threatening.
"The investigation into the Imperial murders has been transferred to military authority as of tonight," Korvain continued. "All case files, evidence, and materials are now classified under planetary security protocols."
"I wasn't informed of any transfer—"
"You're being informed now." Korvain's tone remained conversational, but there was steel beneath it. "I need you to turn over all materials related to this case. Computer files, physical evidence, notes, and any copies you may have made."
Cotar felt the weight of the storage device in his pocket. "Of course, Major. Let me gather the case files."
As he reached toward his desk drawer, Korvain's hand moved to his sidearm. "Slowly, Lieutenant. And keep your hands visible."
The threat was now explicit. Cotar realized that he wasn't being reassigned from the case—he was being eliminated as a security risk. The evidence in his pocket represented the only proof of Albatross involvement in the murders, and Major Korvain intended to ensure it never saw daylight.
"Major, if I may ask—what happened to the Imperial scientists? Were they killed for what they discovered?"
Korvain studied him for a long moment. "You're an honest man, Lieutenant. Probably a good police officer under normal circumstances. But these aren't normal circumstances."
"What circumstances justify murdering Imperial citizens?"
"The circumstances where Imperial citizens threaten the survival of an entire world." Korvain's expression hardened. "The gems those scientists were investigating aren't just energy sources, Lieutenant. They're something far more significant. Something that the Imperial Republic would use to destroy Almania if they understood its true nature."
"That's not—"
"You know nothing about Imperial policy toward planets that possess strategic resources. I do." Korvain drew his sidearm, keeping it low but unmistakably ready. "Now, the case files. All of them."
Mij slipped through the police station's rear loading dock, having bypassed the lock with tools that were decidedly non-standard for a salvage operator. The building's emergency lighting cast long shadows that provided excellent concealment as he moved through the maintenance corridors.
His weapons were concealed but accessible—a blaster pistol in a shoulder holster, a vibroblade on his belt, and various other tools that could serve dual purposes. If this turned into a firefight, he wanted to be ready.
The station's main level was where Cotar would be, but Mij could hear voices coming from that direction—multiple speakers, including one with the authoritative tone of a military commander. He needed to assess the situation before making his move.
Using ventilation shafts and service passages that he'd memorized during his earlier visit, Mij positioned himself where he could observe the main office area. What he saw confirmed his worst fears: Cotar was surrounded by three Albatross soldiers, with their commander—presumably Major Korvain—conducting what appeared to be an interrogation.
Through his comm earpiece, Mij could hear fragments of the conversation:
"—gems those scientists were investigating aren't just energy sources—"
"—Imperial Republic would use to destroy Almania—"
"—case files. All of them."
Mij counted the opposition: four armed soldiers, unknown number of additional personnel outside, and Cotar in the middle with no protection. Direct assault would likely get the lieutenant killed before Mij could reach him.
He needed a distraction.
Mij slipped back through the service corridors to the station's power distribution center. The building's emergency lighting was running off backup systems due to the city-wide power restrictions—which meant the primary power grid was available for manipulation.
Working quickly, he rigged a delayed electrical surge that would trigger the building's fire suppression system while simultaneously cutting power to the main level. It would create confusion and force the Albatross soldiers to split their attention between Cotar and the building emergency.
He set the timer for ninety seconds and moved back toward the main office area, positioning himself for rapid intervention.
Sixty seconds.
Through the ventilation grating, he could see Major Korvain becoming more aggressive with his questioning. Cotar was holding up well, but Mij could see the tension in the lieutenant's posture.
Thirty seconds.
Mij drew his blaster and prepared to move. The suppression system would create a momentary distraction, but he'd have only seconds to act before the Albatross soldiers regained their composure.
Ten seconds.
Major Korvain raised his weapon, pointing it directly at Cotar. The interrogation was over—now it was execution time.
Zero.
The building's lighting cut out instantly, plunging everything into darkness just as the fire suppression system activated, filling the main office with thick, obscuring mist. Shouts and confusion erupted from the Albatross positions.
Mij kicked through the ventilation grating and dropped into the main office, his night vision already adjusted to the darkness. "Cotar! Down and move toward my voice!"
The lieutenant reacted instantly, rolling away from his desk as blaster fire erupted around the office. Mij returned fire, his shots precisely placed to drive the Albatross soldiers toward cover rather than kill them—he needed confusion, not a protracted firefight.
"This way!" Mij grabbed Cotar and pulled him toward the rear exit as emergency lighting began to flicker back on. "Did you get the evidence?"
"Got it!" Cotar patted his jacket pocket as they ran through the corridors.
Behind them, Major Korvain's voice cut through the chaos: "All units, suspects fleeing through rear of building! Protocol Seven is fully authorized!"
As they reached Mij's speeder, Cotar looked back at his workplace—now crawling with Albatross soldiers who were setting up a perimeter.
"They're going to destroy everything, aren't they? All the official case files, all the evidence."
"Probably," Mij replied, starting the speeder's engine. "But you've got copies, and now we know what we're really fighting."
As they disappeared into Stonia's maze of industrial corridors, Cotar reflected on what Major Korvain had revealed. The gems weren't just energy sources—they were something the Albatross believed would threaten Almania's survival if the Imperial Republic understood their true nature.
The question was: what had Dr. Thale and his team discovered that was worth murdering eleven Imperial citizens to protect?
The abandoned factory that served as the Imperial special forces base had been transformed into a makeshift intelligence center. Kai'Len stood before a large display screen showing interconnected data points while Mij and Lieutenant Cotar sat at a salvaged conference table, the evidence from Cotar's investigation spread between them.
"Let's consolidate what we know," Kai'Len began, activating the display. "Cotar, walk us through what you found in the police files."
Cotar connected his portable storage device to the Imperial equipment, and data began populating the screen. "Traffic monitoring shows three Albatross vehicles at the murder scene during the timeframe when the killings occurred. The vehicles were commanded by Major Dex Korvain, who has 'Classified Operations Authority' that supersedes normal military chain of command."
"Which means someone very high up authorized this operation," Mij observed. "You don't get that kind of authority from a planetary governor."
"Exactly." Cotar highlighted another section of data. "Emergency services were called to the scene during the murders, then immediately cancelled. The call came from a military communication channel—they wanted medical response available, which suggests they planned to interrogate the scientists before killing them."
Kai'Len studied the timeline. "What about the scientists themselves? What were they investigating?"
Cotar accessed another file. "According to the research permits, Dr. Thale's team was studying 'energy-emitting crystalline formations with potential applications for advanced technology.' But there's more." He pulled up geological survey data. "The gems they were investigating aren't naturally occurring in the locations where they were found."
"Meaning?"
"Someone planted them there. The geological composition doesn't match the surrounding rock formations." Cotar highlighted several data points. "Dr. Thale discovered this discrepancy and requested permission to expand his investigation to include the gems' origin point."
Mij leaned forward. "And that's when they were killed."
"Within twelve hours of filing the request." Cotar nodded grimly. "But here's what's really interesting—the research data shows that these gems don't just emit energy. They amplify and focus it in ways that conventional technology can't replicate."
Kai'Len felt pieces clicking into place. "Force-sensitive crystals?"
"The data suggests something more sophisticated than that. According to Dr. Thale's preliminary analysis, the gems can interface with biological neural patterns and enhance cognitive and physical capabilities."
The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Mij spoke first: "Enhancement technology. That would explain why the Albatross are so advanced—they're using the gems to enhance their soldiers."
"And why they're terrified of the Imperial Republic discovering the truth," Kai'Len added. "If the gems can enhance human capabilities, every major power in the galaxy would want access to them."
Cotar accessed another file. "There's more. Dr. Thale's backup notes mention something called the 'Source.' He believed the planted gems were fragments of a much larger formation located somewhere on Almania."
"A main deposit," Mij realized. "The Albatross aren't just protecting some scattered gems—they're protecting the mother lode."
Kai'Len activated his tactical display, overlaying the geological data with intelligence reports. "That explains the quarter-billion-credit operation against Princess Ashlee. If she discovered the Source's location, the Imperial Republic could claim the entire deposit."
"But there's something else," Cotar said, his voice troubled. "Major Korvain said the gems were something the Imperial Republic would use to 'destroy Almania' if they understood the true nature. That suggests the enhancement technology comes with significant risks."
"What kind of risks?"
Cotar pulled up Dr. Thale's final research notes. "Neural integration with the gems appears to be addictive and potentially fatal. Test subjects showed dramatic capability enhancement initially, but prolonged exposure led to severe neurological degradation and death."
Mij whistled softly. "So the Albatross soldiers are essentially burning themselves out to protect their secret."
"And they know it," Kai'Len observed. "That makes them desperate and dangerous. They're not fighting for political control—they're fighting for their world's survival as they see it."
Cotar highlighted another section of the data. "There's one more thing. Dr. Thale believed the gems were artificially created, not naturally occurring anywhere. Someone with extremely advanced technology planted them on Almania deliberately."
"Who has that kind of capability?"
"Unknown. But Dr. Thale's notes suggest the technology is beyond current Imperial Republic capabilities. We're talking about a level of advancement that would require..." Cotar paused, checking his data. "He theorized it would require technology comparable to the ancient Sith or Jedi civilizations."
The implications hung heavy in the air. They weren't just dealing with a planetary conspiracy—they were dealing with technology that could reshape the balance of power in the galaxy, placed on Almania by unknown entities with capabilities that exceeded modern understanding.
"We need to get this intelligence to Admiral Taftican immediately," Kai'Len decided. "This changes everything about our mission parameters."
"Agreed," Mij said. "But we should also locate this 'Source' that Dr. Thale mentioned. If the Albatross are protecting a main deposit, that's where we'll find both the technology and the leadership behind this conspiracy."
Cotar stood up, his expression resolute. "I can help with that. My police access includes geological survey data and land ownership records. If there's a significant crystalline formation on Almania, there should be some record of it."
As Cotar began searching through the geological databases, Kai'Len reflected on what they'd discovered. The murdered Imperial scientists had uncovered something that went far beyond energy sources—they'd found enhancement technology that could elevate human capabilities but at the cost of burning out the users' neural systems.
The Albatross weren't just protecting a resource; they were protecting what they saw as the only means of defending their world against Imperial Republic exploitation. And they were willing to sacrifice their own lives, enhanced by the gems' power, to maintain that protection.
"Captain," Corporal Shan called from her communications station. "I'm picking up increased Albatross military traffic. They're mobilizing significant assets and referencing something called 'Facility Seven.'"
"Facility Seven?" Cotar looked up from his research. "That designation appears in the geological surveys. It's listed as a 'classified research installation' located in the Keth Mountain range, about two hundred kilometers north of Stonia."
Kai'Len studied the location on the tactical display. "Remote, defensible, and large enough to house significant operations. That could be our Source."
"It's also where Major Korvain is likely retreating to regroup," Mij observed. "Protocol Seven included securing classified facilities. If we're going to find answers, that's where we need to go."
"Understood. But first, we transmit our intelligence to Admiral Taftican." Kai'Len activated the encrypted communication system. "She needs to know what we're really dealing with before we take any further action."
As the transmission uploaded to the Imperial fleet, Kai'Len realized that their mission had fundamentally changed. They were no longer just investigating the murder of Imperial citizens—they were uncovering a conspiracy that involved technology capable of reshaping galactic civilization, placed on Almania by unknown entities, and defended by people who believed the Imperial Republic's discovery of it would mean their world's destruction.
The Stratus Doctrine was being tested by forces that went far beyond simple planetary politics.
The secure holographic communication chamber aboard the Mal'ury'ush hummed with encrypted transmissions as Grand Admiral Taftican prepared for the most critical briefing of her career. The intelligence gathered by Captain Ciunus's team had fundamentally changed the nature of their mission, and the implications required direct consultation with the highest levels of Imperial Republic command.
The holographic projectors activated, revealing two figures in the bluish light of long-range transmission: High Prince James Stratus, seated at his desk in the Palace situation room, and Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan, standing at attention beside him. Both looked alert despite the late hour on Coruscant.
"Your Majesty, Praetor-General," Taftican began formally, "I have critical intelligence that fundamentally alters our understanding of the Almanian situation."
High Prince James leaned forward slightly. "Proceed, Admiral."
"Our ground operations team has discovered that the murdered Imperial scientists uncovered technology that goes far beyond simple energy sources." Taftican activated her tactical display, sharing the data through the encrypted channel. "The gems they were investigating are enhancement devices capable of amplifying human cognitive and physical capabilities."
Kaidlen Shan's expression sharpened. "Enhancement technology? What kind of capabilities?"
"According to Dr. Thale's research, significant increases in reaction time, strength, cognitive processing, and sensory acuity. However, the technology comes with a fatal cost—prolonged exposure causes severe neurological degradation and death."
The High Prince studied the data flowing across his display. "And the Albatross unit responsible for the murders?"
"They're using this technology themselves, Your Majesty. Our intelligence suggests they're essentially sacrificing their lives to protect what they see as their world's only defense against Imperial Republic exploitation."
"Defense against what, specifically?" James's voice carried the weight of supreme authority.
"They believe that if the Imperial Republic gains access to this enhancement technology, we would use it to subjugate or destroy Almania. From their perspective, they're fighting an existential war."
Kaidlen Shan stepped closer to the holocom. "Admiral, is there any indication that this technology is connected to the assassination attempt on His Majesty?"
"Unknown at this time, Praetor-General. But the timing suggests coordination. Someone wanted to prevent Imperial Republic investigation of Almania badly enough to attack both Princess Ashlee and the High Prince himself."
James stood, his commanding presence evident even through the holographic transmission. "What else have you discovered?"
"The gems aren't naturally occurring, Your Majesty. Dr. Thale's analysis indicates they were artificially created and planted on Almania by unknown entities with technology comparable to ancient Sith or Jedi civilizations."
The implications hung in the air for a moment. James and Kaidlen exchanged a meaningful glance before the High Prince spoke.
"You're telling me that someone with capabilities exceeding our current understanding planted enhancement technology on Almania, and now a local conspiracy is using that technology to wage war against the Imperial Republic?"
"That appears to be the situation, Your Majesty. Our ground team has identified the location of the main deposit—something called 'the Source'—at a facility in the Keth Mountains. The Albatross appear to be consolidating their forces there for a final confrontation."
Kaidlen Shan's tactical mind was already working. "Admiral, what are your current force capabilities? If these Albatross soldiers are enhanced beyond normal human parameters, standard assault tactics may be insufficient."
"Understood, Praetor-General. I'm developing contingency plans for engaging enhanced personnel. However, our primary objective should be securing the technology and identifying who placed it on Almania."
High Prince James walked to the viewport behind his desk, looking out at the lights of Coruscant. "The Constitutional implications are significant. If this technology exists, every major power in the galaxy will want access to it. But the costs..."
"The technology appears designed to create enhanced soldiers who burn out and die within months or years of exposure," Taftican confirmed. "It's not sustainable for long-term military applications."
"Unless someone develops a way to mitigate the neural degradation," James observed grimly. "Admiral, I want that technology secured, but more importantly, I want to know who planted it and why. If there are entities operating in Imperial Republic space with capabilities that exceed our understanding, that represents a threat to galactic stability."
"Understood, Your Majesty. What are my operational parameters?"
James turned back to face the holocom, his expression resolute. "You have full authorization to use whatever force is necessary to secure the Source and identify those responsible. The Stratus Doctrine applies not just to protecting our citizens, but to protecting the Imperial Republic from threats that could destabilize the entire galaxy."
"Praetor-General Shan," he continued, "I want you to investigate any connections between the assassination attempt and this Almanian technology. If someone is coordinating attacks against the Imperial Republic leadership while protecting enhancement technology, we need to identify and eliminate that threat."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I'll coordinate with Admiral Taftican's intelligence assets."
"Admiral," James concluded, "you have operational command of this situation. Keep me informed of major developments, but I trust your judgment on tactical decisions. The Imperial Republic's response must be swift, decisive, and proportionate to the galactic implications of what you've discovered."
As the transmission ended, Taftican reflected on the gravity of her new orders. She was no longer just investigating the murder of Imperial citizens—she was securing technology that could reshape galactic civilization while identifying unknown entities with capabilities that challenged the Imperial Republic's understanding of what was possible.
The Almanian conspiracy had just become a matter of galactic security.
In the Palace situation room, High Prince James remained standing at the viewport for several minutes after the transmission ended, processing the implications of Admiral Taftican's intelligence. Enhancement technology, unknown entities with ancient-level capabilities, and a conspiracy willing to wage war against the Imperial Republic to protect their secrets.
"Kaidlen," he said without turning around, "your assessment of the assassination attempt takes on new significance in light of this intelligence."
Praetor-General Shan moved to stand beside him, her reflection visible in the transparisteel. "The timing suggests coordination, Your Majesty. Someone wanted to prevent Imperial Republic investigation of Almania while simultaneously targeting our leadership structure."
"The question is whether we're dealing with one coordinated enemy or multiple threats that happened to converge." James turned to face her. "What have you discovered about the would-be assassins?"
"Initial investigation revealed they were local criminals with no obvious connection to off-world entities. But that could be deliberate—using disposable assets to avoid revealing the true organizers."
James activated the situation room's main display, showing a galactic map with Almania highlighted. "If someone placed enhancement technology on Almania deliberately, they're playing a game that spans decades or centuries. The assassination attempt could be part of a larger strategy to weaken Imperial Republic response capabilities."
"I'll expand the investigation to look for any connections between the assassins and advanced technology or off-world contacts," Kaidlen decided. "If there's a link to the Almanian situation, I'll find it."
"Do that. And Kaidlen?" James met her eyes. "This technology represents both an opportunity and a threat. If we can master it without the fatal side effects, it could strengthen our ability to protect Imperial citizens. But if we can't control it, or if our enemies gain access first..."
"Understood, Your Majesty. I'll also assess our own security protocols for handling enhancement technology, should we acquire it."
James nodded, then activated his communicator. "Get me Director Klone, Executor Treyson, and Grand Admiral Quinn. Priority alpha."
As his senior staff prepared to converge on the situation room, James realized that the Stratus Doctrine was about to face its most serious test. The Imperial Republic's commitment to protecting its citizens had uncovered a conspiracy that threatened the stability of galactic civilization itself.
Kaidlen made her way through the Palace's security levels to the detention facility where the surviving assassin was being held. The initial interrogation had yielded minimal information, but Admiral Taftican's intelligence about enhancement technology provided new avenues of investigation.
The detention level was a maze of high-security cells and interrogation rooms, staffed by the most trusted members of Palace Security. Kaidlen's security clearance gave her access to areas that even senior military officers couldn't enter—a necessity given the sensitive nature of threats against the royal family.
"Status report," she requested from the duty officer.
"The prisoner has been uncooperative since his initial interrogation, Praetor-General. Standard psychological techniques haven't been effective."
"Medical analysis?"
"No obvious signs of enhancement or unusual physiology. Human male, approximately thirty-five standard years, with cybernetic implants consistent with low-level criminal modifications."
Kaidlen studied the prisoner through the observation window. The would-be assassin appeared to be an ordinary criminal—exactly what someone would use if they wanted to avoid revealing advanced capabilities or off-world connections.
"I want a complete analysis of his cybernetic implants. Compare them against known technology databases, but also flag any components that show manufacturing techniques beyond current Imperial Republic capabilities."
"Yes, Praetor-General. Should we prepare for enhanced interrogation?"
"Not yet. But I want surveillance analysis of his contacts for the six months prior to the assassination attempt. Anyone he met with, any transactions, any travel. If he was recruited by entities connected to the Almanian situation, there will be traces."
As the security team began implementing her orders, Kaidlen activated her encrypted communicator. "Admiral Taftican, this is Praetor-General Shan. I'm expanding the assassination investigation based on your intelligence. Can your assets on Almania look for any references to operations against Imperial Republic leadership?"
The reply came within minutes: "Acknowledged, Praetor-General. We'll prioritize any intelligence about off-world operations or coordination with entities beyond Almania."
Kaidlen made her way back to the situation room, where the High Prince was already meeting with his senior staff. The enhancement technology discovery had elevated the Almanian situation from a regional crisis to a matter of galactic security, and the Imperial Republic's response would need to reflect that escalation.
As she entered the briefing, she reflected on the complexity of what they were facing. Enhancement technology, unknown entities with ancient-level capabilities, assassination attempts against Imperial Republic leadership, and a conspiracy that spanned multiple worlds and potentially decades of planning.
The Stratus Doctrine was being tested by forces that challenged the very foundations of galactic civilization.
Following her briefing with High Prince James, Grand Admiral Taftican stood in the main war room of the Mal'ury'ush, surrounded by her senior staff as they prepared for the most complex operation of her career. The holographic displays showed detailed scans of the Keth Mountains, where Facility Seven was located, while tactical assessments scrolled across secondary screens.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Taftican began, her voice carrying the authority of decades of naval command, "we have full authorization from the High Prince to secure the enhancement technology and identify the unknown entities responsible for placing it on Almania. This is no longer a regional police action—this is a matter of galactic security."
Captain Vex of the Determinate raised his hand. "Admiral, what are our rules of engagement regarding enhanced personnel? Standard tactics may be insufficient against soldiers with superhuman capabilities."
"Excellent question." Taftican activated a tactical display showing estimated Albatross capabilities. "According to our intelligence, enhanced Albatross soldiers will have significantly improved reaction times, strength, and sensory acuity. However, they're also operating with fatal neurological degradation—they're essentially dying to protect their secret."
Colonel Hayes, the marine commander, leaned forward. "That makes them more dangerous, not less. Soldiers who know they're dying have nothing to lose."
"Precisely. Which is why we're adapting our approach." Taftican highlighted several tactical modifications. "First, we're deploying specialized equipment designed for engaging enhanced personnel. Second, we're coordinating with Captain Ciunus's ground team, who have local intelligence and established assets. Third, we're treating this as an archaeological operation as much as a military one."
Chief Morris stepped forward. "Admiral, what do you mean by archaeological operation?"
"We're not just securing the enhancement technology—we're investigating who placed it there and why. The implications of entities with ancient Sith or Jedi-level capabilities operating in Imperial Republic space go far beyond military concerns."
Captain Morrell of the intelligence division activated another display. "Admiral, we've analyzed the geological data from Captain Ciunus's team. Facility Seven is built into a natural cave system that's been extensively modified with artificial structures. The energy readings suggest the Source is located deep underground."
"Depth of the installation?"
"Estimated three kilometers below surface level, with multiple defensive positions and chokepoints. It's designed to be impregnable against conventional assault."
Taftican studied the geological cross-section. "Not conventional assault. Enhanced defenders in a fortified position with unknown technology supporting them. Colonel Hayes, what are your recommendations for ground operations?"
"Combined arms approach, Admiral. Orbital bombardment to neutralize surface defenses, followed by specialized insertion teams equipped for underground combat. But we'll need Captain Ciunus's team to provide reconnaissance and identify defensive capabilities."
"Agreed. What about collateral damage considerations?"
Captain Vex consulted his tactical displays. "The facility is isolated in mountainous terrain, minimal civilian population within fifty kilometers. However, we don't know what happens if we destabilize the Source itself."
"Valid concern." Taftican activated her communicator. "Get me a secure channel to Captain Ciunus. Priority alpha."
Within moments, Kai'Len's voice came through the encrypted transmission: "Admiral, we're standing by for orders."
"Captain, I need your assessment of Facility Seven's defensive capabilities and your recommendation for assault approaches."
"Admiral, we've been monitoring increased Albatross activity in the Keth Mountains. Multiple enhanced units are converging on the facility—estimate battalion strength with superhuman capabilities. They're preparing for a siege defense."
"Can you infiltrate and provide reconnaissance before we commit to full assault?"
"Affirmative, but it will be high risk. Enhanced defenders will have sensory capabilities that make stealth infiltration extremely difficult."
Taftican weighed the options. "Captain, I'm authorizing you to attempt reconnaissance, but your primary mission is to identify the nature of the Source and any evidence of the unknown entities who placed it there. The enhancement technology is secondary to understanding who we're really fighting."
"Understood, Admiral. Request permission to coordinate with our local asset—Lieutenant Cotar has access to geological surveys that might reveal alternate approaches to the facility."
"Granted. What's your timeline for reconnaissance?"
"Twelve hours to reach the outer perimeter, six hours for reconnaissance, twelve hours to extract with intelligence. Twenty-four hours total unless we encounter significant resistance."
"Approved. Meanwhile, we'll prepare orbital bombardment options and ground assault forces. Captain, be aware that this operation has galactic implications—whatever you discover in that facility could change the balance of power in civilized space."
As the transmission ended, Taftican turned back to her staff. "Colonel Hayes, prepare your marines for underground combat against enhanced personnel. Captain Vex, I want bombardment solutions that can penetrate three kilometers of rock without destabilizing the entire mountain range. Chief Morris, coordinate with our intelligence assets to analyze any data that Captain Ciunus transmits."
"Admiral," Captain Morrell interjected, "what if we discover that the unknown entities are still active? If whoever placed this technology is still operating in Imperial Republic space..."
"Then we'll deal with that threat as well." Taftican's expression was grim. "The High Prince was clear—the Imperial Republic will not tolerate entities operating in our space with capabilities that threaten galactic stability. Whatever we find in Facility Seven, we'll secure it or destroy it."
As her staff dispersed to implement the assault preparations, Taftican remained in the war room, studying the tactical displays and considering the broader implications of their mission. The enhancement technology represented both an opportunity and an existential threat—if the Imperial Republic could master it without the fatal side effects, it could revolutionize their military capabilities. But if they couldn't control it, or if hostile entities gained access first, it could destabilize the entire galaxy.
"Admiral," her communications officer announced, "incoming priority transmission from Princess Ashlee aboard the Scarlet Angel."
Taftican accepted the transmission, and Princess Ashlee's holographic image appeared. "Your Highness, what can I do for you?"
"Admiral, I understand my scientific team's investigation has uncovered something significant. I want to be involved in the operation to secure whatever they died trying to discover."
"Princess, with respect, this operation is going to involve combat against enhanced personnel in fortified positions. The risk—"
"Admiral, those were my people who were murdered. My friends. I have a right to see justice done." Princess Ashlee's voice carried the authority of the royal family. "I'm not asking to lead the assault. I'm asking to be present when we discover what they died for."
Taftican considered the request. Princess Ashlee had legitimate personal investment in the mission, and her presence would demonstrate Imperial Republic commitment to protecting its citizens. But the tactical risks were enormous.
"Princess, if I allow you to participate, it will be under strict security protocols. You'll remain with the command element, not with assault forces."
"Agreed. Thank you, Admiral."
As the transmission ended, Taftican reflected on the personal dimensions of their mission. Dr. Thale and his team had died trying to understand the enhancement technology, Princess Ashlee had been targeted to prevent Imperial Republic investigation, and now enhanced soldiers were preparing to die defending their secret. The human cost of the conspiracy was staggering, and it was far from over.
"Admiral," Colonel Hayes returned to the war room. "Marine assault forces are equipped and ready. We've loaded specialized ammunition designed for enhanced targets, and our combat engineers have equipment for deep underground operations."
"Timeline for deployment?"
"Six hours to final preparation, then we can launch assault forces within two hours of your order."
"Excellent. What about extraction capabilities if Captain Ciunus's team encounters trouble during reconnaissance?"
"Fast attack shuttles on standby, equipped with penetrator capabilities for underground extraction. We can reach them within thirty minutes of distress signal."
Taftican nodded approvingly. "Captain Vex, status on orbital bombardment preparations?"
"Bombardment solutions calculated for precision strikes against surface installations while preserving underground structures. However, Admiral, we still don't know what effect weapons fire might have on the Source itself."
"Understood. We'll rely on Captain Ciunus's reconnaissance to provide that intelligence." Taftican activated the fleet communication system. "All ships, this is Admiral Taftican. We are preparing for complex ground operations against enhanced personnel defending technology that represents a galactic-level security threat. Every member of this task force should understand that our actions in the next forty-eight hours may determine the future balance of power in civilized space. Imperial Republic citizens died to uncover this conspiracy, and we will ensure their sacrifice was not in vain."
As her fleet prepared for the most consequential operation of the Almanian crisis, Taftican realized that they were about to confront forces that challenged the Imperial Republic's understanding of what was possible. Enhancement technology, unknown entities with ancient capabilities, and a conspiracy that spanned potentially centuries of planning—all converging on a single facility hidden deep beneath the Keth Mountains.
The Stratus Doctrine was about to face its ultimate test.
Lieutenant Riloan Cotar - Transformed from confused local investigator to committed Imperial Republic ally, making moral choice between personal safety and justice
Mij - Evolved from independent bounty hunter to disciplined Imperial contractor, demonstrating professional growth and adherence to Republic values
Captain Kai'Len Ciunus - Successfully returned to active duty after grief period, leading complex intelligence operation with renewed purpose
Simon Morris & Terrisa Klone - Demonstrated IRIS coordination capabilities and intelligence analysis skills under pressure
Grand Admiral Tura Taftican - Showed strategic leadership in escalating from regional crisis to galactic security matter
The stage is now set for Part 3, where the reconnaissance mission will uncover the full truth about the Sith conspiracy and the ancient entities behind the enhancement technology.
End of Part 2
Continuing from Part 2: Intelligence and Discovery
The reconnaissance team has discovered that Facility Seven contains not just enhancement technology, but an active Sith cult installation where dark side adepts are using ancient artifacts to corrupt human subjects through dark side alchemy. The enhancement technology causes neural degradation because it's powered by dark side corruption that consumes the users' life force. What began as a murder investigation has become the discovery of hidden Sith cult operations within Imperial Republic space.
The moment Kai'Len's reconnaissance team reached the deepest levels of Facility Seven, they encountered something far worse than advanced technology—they found an active Sith cult installation that had been corrupting human subjects for decades. The vast underground complex extended far beyond what their geological surveys had suggested, with ancient stone corridors lined with dark side artifacts that pulsed with malevolent energy.
"Captain," Lieutenant Cotar whispered, his voice tight with horror as they observed the central chamber through concealed positions, "what are those robed figures doing to those people?"
Through their optical equipment, the team could see Sith cultists in dark robes conducting rituals around crystalline artifacts while enhanced Albatross soldiers stood guard. But more disturbing were the human subjects strapped to ritual tables, their screams echoing through the chamber as dark side energy coursed through their bodies.
"Dark side alchemy," Kai'Len replied grimly, recognizing the ritual patterns from Imperial Republic intelligence briefings on ancient Sith practices. "They're using Sith artifacts to corrupt human physiology, creating enhanced soldiers by burning out their life force with dark side energy."
"Those people are dying," Mij observed, his professional detachment cracking as they watched the horrific process. "The neural degradation isn't a side effect—it's dark side corruption consuming them from within."
"Base, this is Reconnaissance One," Kai'Len activated his emergency transmitter. "Priority Alpha intelligence. Facility Seven is not a technology installation—it's an active Sith cult complex conducting dark side experiments on human subjects."
The response came immediately from Grand Admiral Taftican: "Reconnaissance One, confirm Sith cult operations. Are you observing actual dark side practitioners?"
"Confirmed, Admiral. Robed figures conducting dark side rituals using ancient Sith artifacts. Human subjects are being tortured and corrupted through dark side alchemy. This is an active Sith installation, not abandoned technology."
The silence on the communication channel lasted several seconds before Taftican responded with controlled fury: "Understood, Captain. Document everything for evidence, then extract immediately. The Imperial Republic does not tolerate Sith operations within our space."
"Admiral, we count at least twenty human subjects in various stages of corruption, plus Sith cultists and enhanced guards. Request permission to attempt rescue of survivors."
"Negative, Captain. Your team is not equipped for combat against Sith practitioners. Document, extract, and prepare targeting data for orbital bombardment."
Cotar looked at Kai'Len with shock. "Orbital bombardment? But there are people down here—"
"People who are being tortured to death by Sith cultists," Kai'Len replied quietly. "Lieutenant, those subjects are dying from dark side corruption. The kindest thing we can do is ensure this horror ends quickly."
As they documented the Sith installation for intelligence purposes, enhanced Albatross patrols began converging on their position with Force-assisted coordination that demonstrated the full scope of the dark side corruption.
"Contact approaching," Sergeant Thorne reported. "Multiple enhanced soldiers moving through the complex with Force-guided navigation."
"They're using Force telepathy to coordinate," Corporal Shan observed, monitoring the enemy communications. "No visible signals, but perfect tactical unity. These soldiers have been corrupted by dark side training."
The firefight that erupted demonstrated the horrific effectiveness of Sith enhancement. The corrupted soldiers moved with Force-assisted speed and coordination, using dark side precognition to anticipate Imperial Republic tactical responses while their life force burned away from the dark side energy consuming them.
"Base, engaging Force-enhanced opposition," Kai'Len reported while his team fought their way toward the extraction point. "These soldiers are dying from dark side corruption, but they're using Force abilities that exceed normal human capabilities."
"Understood. Extraction shuttles inbound. Clear the facility for orbital bombardment preparation."
As they fought through the Sith-corrupted complex, Kai'Len reflected on the magnitude of what they'd discovered. This wasn't just about technology or planetary politics—they'd found evidence of active Sith operations that were torturing Imperial Republic citizens and corrupting human subjects with dark side alchemy.
The Imperial Republic's response would be swift and absolute. Dark side installations would be destroyed completely, regardless of any potential technological benefits.
The main command center of the Mal'ury'ush had been cleared of all non-essential personnel as Grand Admiral Taftican, Princess Ashlee, and the senior staff processed intelligence that revealed the most serious Sith threat in Imperial Republic history. The recordings from Captain Ciunus's reconnaissance team showed clear evidence of active Sith cult operations using dark side alchemy to torture and corrupt human subjects.
"Admiral," Princess Ashlee said quietly, studying the horrific images from the Sith installation, "those people are being tortured to death by dark side practitioners. We cannot allow this to continue."
"Agreed, Your Highness. The Imperial Republic's position on Sith operations is absolute—complete elimination." Taftican activated the fleet communication system. "All ships, prepare for orbital bombardment of Facility Seven. Target priority: complete destruction of Sith installation and dark side artifacts."
Commodore Gourdine studied the tactical assessments. "Admiral, what about potential intelligence value from captured Sith artifacts?"
"Commodore, the Imperial Republic does not study Sith technology for acquisition purposes. We study it only to develop countermeasures against dark side threats." Taftican's voice carried absolute authority. "Our mandate is to protect Imperial Republic citizens from dark side corruption, not to experiment with it ourselves."
"Understood, Admiral. What about the human subjects still in the facility?"
Princess Ashlee answered grimly: "Those people are dying from dark side corruption. Captain Ciunus confirmed they're being consumed by dark side energy. The most merciful action is to end their suffering quickly."
Chief Morris approached with additional intelligence reports. "Admiral, Your Highness, we've confirmed similar Sith installations on two additional worlds in this sector. All show evidence of recent activity and human experimentation."
"How many worlds?" Taftican demanded.
"At least three confirmed, possibly more. This appears to be a coordinated Sith cult network operating throughout Imperial Republic space."
The implications were staggering. Princess Ashlee walked to the main viewport, looking out at space that might harbor multiple Sith installations torturing Imperial Republic citizens.
"Admiral, I want every Sith installation in this sector identified and destroyed. Whatever resources it takes, however long it takes—the Imperial Republic will not tolerate dark side operations against our people."
"Your Highness, implementing immediate fleet-wide Sith elimination protocols. All identified dark side installations will be targeted for complete destruction."
Captain Morrell activated additional tactical displays. "Admiral, orbital bombardment solutions calculated for all three confirmed sites. However, the underground nature of these installations may require deep-penetration weapons to ensure complete destruction of dark side artifacts."
"Then we use deep-penetration weapons. I want those installations vaporized completely. No Sith artifacts, no dark side corruption, no possibility of reconstruction."
The communication system activated with a priority transmission from the High Prince himself. "Admiral Taftican, this is High Prince James. I understand you've discovered active Sith operations within Imperial Republic space."
"Your Majesty, confirmed. Active Sith cult installations conducting dark side experiments on human subjects using ancient artifacts. We have documented evidence of torture and corruption through dark side alchemy."
The High Prince's voice carried cold fury. "Admiral, you have full authorization to eliminate every trace of Sith presence in that sector. Use whatever force is necessary. The Imperial Republic will not permit dark side practitioners to operate within our space."
"Understood, Your Majesty. What about potential survivors among the corrupted subjects?"
"If there are people who can be saved, save them. If they're beyond saving due to dark side corruption, then mercy demands we end their suffering. But under no circumstances will any Sith artifacts or dark side technology be preserved for study."
Princess Ashlee activated her communication authority. "Father, what about intelligence gathering on Sith capabilities? Don't we need to understand their methods to defend against them?"
"Ashlee, we gather intelligence to develop countermeasures, not to acquire their capabilities. Document everything for defensive research, then destroy it completely. The Imperial Republic does not become stronger by embracing dark side power."
After the transmission ended, Taftican turned to her staff. "You heard the High Prince. Complete elimination of all Sith installations, with intelligence gathering for defensive purposes only. Begin orbital bombardment preparations."
"Admiral," Commodore Gourdine observed, "what about the political implications? If Etago Ma'a is coordinating these Sith operations, we're dealing with dark side corruption at the highest levels of planetary government."
"Then we remove that corruption," Princess Ashlee replied with the determination of House Stratus. "If planetary leaders are working with Sith cultists to torture Imperial Republic citizens, they will answer for their crimes."
"Your Highness," Chief Morris interjected, "that could mean removing the entire Almanian government and establishing Imperial Republic administration."
"If necessary. The Imperial Republic will not compromise with dark side practitioners, regardless of their political positions."
Taftican activated the fleet-wide communication system. "All ships, this is Admiral Taftican. We have confirmed active Sith cult operations within Imperial Republic space, including torture and corruption of Imperial Republic citizens through dark side alchemy. Our mission is complete elimination of all Sith installations and the protection of any surviving victims. There will be no negotiation with dark side practitioners and no preservation of Sith technology. We destroy it all."
As the fleet prepared for orbital bombardment, Taftican reflected on the moral clarity of their mission. The Imperial Republic had been founded on principles of justice and protection of citizens. When faced with active Sith operations that tortured innocent people, there was only one possible response: complete and absolute elimination.
The dark side installations would be destroyed, the corrupted subjects would be given mercy, and any Sith cultists would face Imperial Republic justice. There would be no compromise with evil, regardless of any potential technological benefits.
In the Palace situation room on Coruscant, High Prince James stood before the main holographic display showing the Almanian system, his expression reflecting the cold fury of a ruler who had just learned that Sith cultists were torturing his citizens. The intelligence from Admiral Taftican had revealed not just political conspiracy, but active dark side operations that violated every principle upon which the Imperial Republic had been founded.
"Praetor-General Shan," he addressed Kaidlen, "I want an immediate security review of every world in Imperial Republic space that has ancient Sith sites or dark side historical activity."
"Already initiated, Your Majesty. We're coordinating with archaeological databases and Jedi records to identify potential Sith cult infiltration points."
"Good. And I want it understood throughout the government that the Imperial Republic's position on dark side operations is absolute: complete elimination. We do not study Sith technology for our own use. We destroy it."
Grand Admiral Quinn joined the briefing through secure hologram. "Your Majesty, what are our rules of engagement regarding planetary governments that may be compromised by Sith influence?"
"If Etago Ma'a is coordinating Sith operations that torture Imperial Republic citizens, then he is no longer a legitimate planetary leader—he is a war criminal working with dark side practitioners." James's voice carried the weight of absolute authority. "Remove him from power and establish Imperial Republic administration until clean local government can be restored."
"Sir, that could mean military occupation of multiple worlds if this Sith network extends beyond Almania."
"Then we occupy them. The Imperial Republic will not permit Sith cultists to torture our people while hiding behind political legitimacy."
Executor Treyson activated her communication link from COMPNOR headquarters. "Your Majesty, what about citizens of these worlds who may be unaware of Sith infiltration? Do we distinguish between complicit and innocent populations?"
"Of course. Citizens like Lieutenant Cotar who choose to help the Imperial Republic despite personal risk demonstrate that not all Almanians are complicit. But any government official who knowingly works with Sith cultists has forfeited their authority."
"And the enhanced soldiers who have been corrupted by dark side alchemy?"
James was quiet for a moment, considering the terrible implications. "If they can be saved from dark side corruption, we save them. If they cannot be saved, then mercy demands we end their suffering. But under no circumstances do we attempt to replicate or preserve the process that created them."
Praetor-General Shan consulted her intelligence reports. "Your Majesty, preliminary analysis suggests these Sith operations may have been active for decades, possibly using Imperial Republic archaeological surveys to identify and reactivate ancient dark side sites."
"Meaning they've been using our own research to target locations for Sith installations?"
"It's possible, sir. Which would mean they have access to classified Imperial Republic archaeological and historical databases."
The implications were staggering—not only were Sith cultists operating within Imperial Republic space, but they might have infiltrated government databases to identify targets for dark side corruption.
"Director Klone," James activated another communication channel, "I want immediate investigation of anyone with access to archaeological databases who might have provided information to Sith cult networks."
"Yes, Your Majesty. We'll cross-reference database access logs with the locations of confirmed Sith installations."
"And Lan, I want it clearly understood: the Imperial Republic does not negotiate with Sith cultists, we do not preserve Sith technology for study, and we do not compromise with dark side practitioners. We eliminate them completely."
"Understood, sir. Rules of engagement for all Imperial Republic forces engaging Sith operations?"
"Complete elimination of all dark side installations, rescue of any saveable victims, and destruction of all Sith artifacts. No exceptions."
After ending the communications, James turned to Kaidlen. "This may be the most serious threat to Imperial Republic principles since our founding. If Sith cultists have been operating within our space for decades, using our own research to identify targets, then we're dealing with systematic infiltration at the highest levels."
"Yes, Your Majesty. And the fact that they were willing to attack the royal family suggests they view Imperial Republic discovery as an existential threat to their operations."
"Good. Because our response will be an existential threat to their survival." James activated the emergency communication system that could reach every Imperial Republic military unit simultaneously. "All Imperial Republic forces, this is High Prince James. We have confirmed active Sith cult operations within Imperial Republic space, including torture and corruption of Imperial Republic citizens through dark side alchemy. The Imperial Republic's response is absolute: complete elimination of all Sith installations and dark side operations. We do not negotiate with practitioners of the dark side. We destroy them. This is a matter of Imperial Republic survival and the protection of our fundamental principles. Every citizen has the right to live free from dark side corruption, and the Imperial Republic will ensure that right is protected."
The transmission would reach every Imperial Republic military unit, intelligence agency, and government installation throughout known space—a declaration that the Imperial Republic would not tolerate Sith operations regardless of the political or military cost.
As James concluded the emergency broadcast, he reflected on the moral clarity of their position. The Imperial Republic had been founded on principles of justice, protection of citizens, and opposition to tyranny. When faced with Sith cultists who tortured innocent people for dark side power, there could be only one response: complete and uncompromising elimination.
The dark side installations would be destroyed, the corrupted officials would face justice, and any surviving victims would be given the protection they deserved. The Imperial Republic would not become stronger by embracing evil—it would become stronger by destroying it.
The Galactic Senate of the Imperial Republic had not seen such a gathering since the founding crisis thirty-five years earlier. Every senator was present, the High Council occupied their elevated positions, and the Royal Family sat in full attendance as High Prince James prepared to address not just the Imperial Republic, but the entire galaxy. The holographic transmission would carry his words to every world, every government, and every citizen within known space.
"Members of the Senate, Councilors, citizens of the Imperial Republic, and peoples of the galaxy," the High Prince began, his voice carrying the weight of supreme authority tempered by righteous fury. "I come before you today to report the discovery of the most serious threat to civilized society since the founding of our Constitutional Autocracy."
The Senate chamber fell into absolute silence as the gravity of the moment became clear.
"Three days ago, our investigation into the murder of eleven Imperial Republic citizens on the planet Almania revealed evidence of active Sith cult operations within Imperial Republic space. Our reconnaissance teams have documented Sith installations where cultists use ancient dark side artifacts to torture and corrupt human subjects through dark side alchemy."
Murmurs of horror rippled through the assembled senators and dignitaries.
"But the scope of this evil extends beyond hidden cult activities. We have confirmed that Etago Ma'a, the planetary leader of Almania, has been coordinating these Sith operations across multiple worlds, facilitating the torture and corruption of Imperial Republic citizens while maintaining the facade of legitimate government."
Supreme Chancellor Quick, despite his recent resignation, stood in his place of honor. "Your Majesty, are you saying that a planetary government has been actively collaborating with Sith cultists?"
"I am saying more than that, Joe. I am saying that the government of Almania has forfeited all claim to legitimacy by working with practitioners of the dark side to torture Imperial Republic citizens. They have committed acts of war against the Imperial Republic and crimes against civilized society itself."
The High Prince activated the main holographic display, showing the horrific recordings from Facility Seven—Sith cultists conducting dark side rituals while human subjects screamed in agony, their life force being consumed by ancient artifacts.
"The evidence is irrefutable. Almania's government, led by Etago Ma'a, has been providing resources, protection, and coordination for Sith cult networks that torture innocent people to death in pursuit of dark side power."
Princess Ashlee rose from her position among the Royal Family. "Your Majesty, what is the Imperial Republic's response to this discovery?"
"The Imperial Republic does not negotiate with practitioners of the dark side. We do not compromise with those who torture innocent people. We do not recognize the authority of governments that collaborate with Sith cultists." James's voice carried absolute finality. "Therefore, by the authority vested in me as Supreme Ruler of the Imperial Republic, I do hereby declare that a state of war exists between the Imperial Republic and the Sith-corrupted government of Etago Ma'a."
The declaration sent shock waves through the assembled representatives, but the High Prince continued without pause.
"This declaration of war is not directed against the people of Almania, many of whom are themselves victims of Sith corruption. Any Almanian official who renounces collaboration with dark side practitioners and surrenders peacefully to Imperial Republic forces will be treated with the dignity and protection owed to all citizens who reject evil."
He paused, allowing the distinction to be understood clearly.
"But those who continue to serve Sith-corrupted leadership, who facilitate dark side operations, or who resist Imperial Republic efforts to eliminate these threats will be treated as enemy combatants working with practitioners of the dark side."
Executor Treyson activated her communication authority. "Your Majesty, what are the military objectives of this war?"
"Complete elimination of all Sith installations and dark side operations within Imperial Republic space. Removal of the corrupt government of Etago Ma'a and establishment of clean Imperial Republic administration. Protection of innocent Almanian citizens who choose to reject dark side influence. And justice for the Imperial Republic citizens who were tortured and murdered by this conspiracy."
"And the ultimate disposition of the Almanian system?"
"The Almanian system will be annexed by the Imperial Republic and administered directly until such time as legitimate, uncorrupted local government can be established. We will not risk the resurrection of Sith influence through compromised political structures."
The High Prince looked directly into the primary holographic transmitter, addressing the galaxy beyond the Senate chamber.
"Let this declaration serve as notice to any government, organization, or individual who may be collaborating with Sith cultists or dark side practitioners: The Imperial Republic will find you, and we will eliminate your operations completely. There is no safe harbor for those who torture innocent people in pursuit of dark side power."
"To the people of Almania and any other world that may be suffering under Sith influence: The Imperial Republic comes not as conquerors, but as liberators. We will free you from the corruption that has infected your government, and we will ensure that no citizen suffers under dark side oppression."
"And to our allies throughout the galaxy: The Imperial Republic calls upon all civilized governments to support our efforts to eliminate Sith operations wherever they may be found. This is not merely an Imperial Republic conflict—this is a defense of civilized society against forces that would torture and corrupt innocent people for dark side power."
The High Prince deactivated the display and turned back to face the Senate directly.
"I have authorized Grand Admiral Taftican to begin immediate military operations against Sith installations with complete authorization to use whatever force is necessary to eliminate dark side threats. Our fleets are deploying for full-scale invasion and occupation of the Almanian system."
"The Imperial Republic has been patient with corruption, tolerant of political differences, and respectful of local sovereignty. But we will not tolerate collaboration with Sith cultists who torture our citizens. This ends today."
As the transmission concluded, every person in the Senate chamber understood that they had witnessed a turning point in galactic history. The Imperial Republic had declared total war against dark side influence, with annexation and complete governmental replacement as the price of Sith collaboration.
Aboard the Mal'ury'ush, Grand Admiral Taftican watched the High Prince's declaration through the fleet communication system before turning to Princess Ashlee and her command staff. The formal war declaration had given them complete authorization for military action without political restraint.
"Your Highness," Taftican addressed Princess Ashlee, "we have formal authorization for unrestricted military operations against all Sith installations and the corrupt Almanian government. How do you wish to proceed?"
"Admiral, begin orbital bombardment of all confirmed Sith installations immediately. Use deep-penetration weapons to ensure complete destruction of underground facilities and dark side artifacts."
"And the targeting priority?"
"Sith installations first—eliminate the torture chambers and cult operations with absolute priority. Then military targets supporting the corrupt government. Avoid civilian areas unless they're being used to shield Sith operations."
Taftican activated the fleet communication system. "All ships, this is Admiral Taftican. Commence Operation Dark Side Elimination. Priority targets: Facility Seven and all confirmed Sith installations. Authorization: unrestricted bombardment for complete destruction."
The tactical displays throughout the command center showed the fleet's massive firepower being brought to bear on the planet below. Turbolaser batteries, proton torpedo launchers, and specialized deep-penetration weapons all targeted the coordinates provided by Captain Ciunus's reconnaissance team.
"First bombardment wave launching now," reported the weapons coordinator. "Target: Facility Seven, Sith installation. Deep-penetration charges armed for maximum underground destruction."
Princess Ashlee watched through the main viewport as the first wave of weapons streaked toward the planet's surface. Each weapon represented not just military might, but moral authority—the Imperial Republic's absolute refusal to permit dark side operations within their space.
"Admiral," she said quietly, "those weapons are ending the suffering of people who were being tortured by Sith cultists. We're not just destroying installations—we're liberating victims."
"Yes, Your Highness. The Imperial Republic shows mercy by ending evil quickly and completely."
The weapons impacts registered on their sensors as massive energy signatures that could be felt throughout the fleet. Three kilometers of rock and stone vanished in an instant, along with every trace of the Sith installation that had tortured so many innocent people.
"Facility Seven destroyed, Admiral. Complete elimination confirmed. No remaining energy signatures from dark side artifacts."
"Excellent. Target the next installation."
As the orbital bombardment continued, Princess Ashlee reflected on the historical significance of their actions. The Imperial Republic was demonstrating to the galaxy that dark side operations would be met with immediate and total destruction, regardless of political complications or diplomatic consequences.
"Admiral," Commodore Gourdine observed, "we're not just conducting military operations—we're establishing precedent. Every government in the galaxy is watching how the Imperial Republic responds to Sith infiltration."
"Good," Princess Ashlee replied with royal determination. "Let them see that collaboration with dark side practitioners results in complete governmental replacement. The Imperial Republic will not compromise with evil."
On the surface of Almania, Lieutenant Cotar stood in the ruins of what had been Stonia's government district, watching orbital bombardment destroy the Sith installations that had corrupted his world for decades. The man who had begun this crisis as a confused police investigator now faced the choice that would define the rest of his life.
"Cotar!" Mij called out, approaching through the debris-filled streets. "The Imperial Republic fleet is offering safe passage to any Almanian officials who surrender peacefully. You need to make a decision."
Around them, the city was in chaos. Albatross forces loyal to Etago Ma'a were fighting desperately to maintain control while Imperial Republic bombardment eliminated their Sith support structure. Other Almanian officials were surrendering to Imperial Republic forces, choosing Imperial Republic protection over loyalty to a Sith-corrupted government.
"Mij," Cotar said quietly, "my entire life I believed I was serving legitimate government. Now I discover that my planetary leadership has been working with Sith cultists to torture people. How do I choose between my world and my conscience?"
"Your conscience is your world now, brother. The Almanian government you served doesn't exist anymore—it was corrupted by dark side influence. The Imperial Republic offers you the chance to serve legitimate authority again."
Captain Kai'Len joined them, his special forces team securing the immediate area. "Lieutenant, I've been authorized to offer you and any other clean Almanian officials full protection and integration into Imperial Republic administration. The Empire needs people who understand local conditions and can help transition to legitimate government."
"What about my fellow officers? My colleagues who weren't involved in the Sith operations?"
"They'll be evaluated individually. Anyone who renounces the corrupt government and cooperates with Imperial Republic forces will be protected. Anyone who continues to serve Sith-corrupted leadership will be treated as enemy combatants."
Cotar looked at the orbital bombardment eliminating the last traces of Sith influence from his world. The torture chambers were being destroyed, the corrupted officials were being removed, and innocent people were being given the chance to live free from dark side oppression.
"Captain Ciunus, I formally surrender to Imperial Republic authority and request protection for myself and any other Almanian officials who reject Sith influence."
Kai'Len extended his hand. "Welcome to the Imperial Republic, Lieutenant Cotar. Your knowledge of local conditions will be valuable in establishing clean administration."
As they shook hands, Cotar realized he wasn't betraying his world—he was helping to liberate it from decades of hidden corruption. The Imperial Republic offered what Etago Ma'a's government never could: legitimate authority based on protection of citizens rather than collaboration with forces that tortured innocent people.
"Mij," Cotar said, "you were right about the Imperial Republic representing something worth fighting for. They're not here as conquerors—they're here as liberators."
"That's what I've been trying to tell people, brother. The Imperial Republic destroys evil, protects the innocent, and offers legitimate authority to those who choose it."
Around them, the orbital bombardment continued as the Imperial Republic systematically eliminated every trace of Sith influence from Almanian space. But for the first time since the crisis began, Lieutenant Cotar felt hope that his world might finally be free from the corruption that had infected it for so long.
The Imperial Republic had come to Almania not to destroy, but to liberate. And he would help them succeed.
The command center of the Mal'ury'ush had transformed into the nerve center of the largest Imperial Republic military operation since the founding crisis. Tactical displays showed invasion forces deploying across Almanian space while orbital bombardment continued to eliminate Sith installations with methodical precision.
"Admiral," Colonel Hayes reported from the marine command station, "Ground assault forces are deploying to seven primary landing zones. Priority objective: secure all major population centers and eliminate remaining Sith-loyal military resistance."
Princess Ashlee studied the deployment patterns on the main holographic display. "What's the status on civilian populations? Are Almanian citizens cooperating with our forces?"
"Mixed response, Your Highness. In areas where we've eliminated Sith installations, civilian populations are welcoming Imperial Republic forces as liberators. But in sectors still controlled by Albatross forces loyal to Etago Ma'a, we're facing organized resistance."
"And the surrender offers for clean Almanian officials?"
"We have forty-seven confirmed surrenders from planetary and local government officials who have renounced the Sith-corrupted regime. They're being processed for integration into Imperial Republic administration."
Admiral Taftican activated the fleet communication system. "Captain Ciunus, report on ground conditions and Sith-loyal resistance."
Kai'Len's voice came through the encrypted channel from the planet's surface: "Admiral, we're encountering organized resistance from enhanced Albatross forces, but their capabilities are degrading as we eliminate the Sith installations that were sustaining their dark side enhancement. Without the ritual sites, their Force abilities are weakening."
"Casualties?"
"Light on our side. The enhanced soldiers are fighting desperately, but they're dying from dark side corruption faster than they can maintain effective resistance. Many are surrendering once they realize the Sith cultists have abandoned them."
Princess Ashlee leaned forward. "Captain, are you saying the enhanced soldiers are being abandoned by their Sith handlers?"
"Confirmed, Your Highness. The Sith cultists appear to have evacuated to unknown locations once orbital bombardment began. The enhanced soldiers were expendable assets, left behind to slow our advance while the real Sith leadership escaped."
The implications were troubling—while they were eliminating the immediate threat, the core Sith leadership might be escaping to establish operations elsewhere.
"Admiral," Chief Morris approached with new intelligence, "Priority transmission from Praetor-General Shan on Coruscant. She's completed initial findings on the assassination investigation."
Taftican activated the secure communication channel. "Praetor-General, report your findings."
Kaidlen Shan's image appeared on the holographic display, her expression grim. "Admiral, Your Highness, the assassination attempt against High Prince James was coordinated with the Almanian Sith conspiracy. We've traced the attackers' funding through the same financial networks used to pay the mercenaries who attacked Princess Ashlee."
"Confirming Sith involvement in the assassination attempt?"
"Affirmative. The timing was calculated to create maximum governmental instability while preventing Imperial Republic investigation of Almanian operations. Both attacks were parts of a coordinated Sith strategy to weaken Imperial Republic response capabilities."
Princess Ashlee felt cold fury at the confirmation. "So the Sith conspiracy was willing to assassinate the High Prince to protect their torture operations."
"Yes, Your Highness. And there's more. We've identified evidence of long-term infiltration of Imperial Republic archaeological databases. The Sith cultists have been using our own research to identify and reactivate ancient dark side sites for decades."
The scope of the betrayal was staggering—Sith cultists had been using Imperial Republic knowledge to establish torture facilities throughout their space.
"Praetor-General, any identification of the Imperial Republic personnel who provided database access?"
"Investigation ongoing, but preliminary evidence suggests either compromised officials or sophisticated external infiltration. We'll have complete findings once the immediate crisis is resolved."
Admiral Taftican processed this intelligence. "Understood. Continue the investigation. Admiral, we need to accelerate ground operations to capture Sith leadership before they can establish operations elsewhere."
On Almania's surface, Captain Ciunus and Mij fought side by side through the ruins of what had been an Albatross command center, their partnership tested under the extreme pressure of combating opponents with diminishing but still dangerous Force abilities.
"Movement left!" Mij called out, his enhanced sensors detecting enhanced soldiers attempting to flank their position. "Three contacts, moving with Force-assisted speed but showing signs of degradation."
"Confirmed. They're getting weaker as we eliminate the Sith sites," Kai'Len replied, coordinating with his team through tactical communications. "But they're still dangerous until the dark side corruption finishes killing them."
The firefight that erupted demonstrated both the effectiveness of their partnership and the tragic nature of their opponents. Enhanced Albatross soldiers fought with desperate courage, but their Force abilities were visibly failing as the dark side energy that had empowered them consumed their life force without Sith ritual sites to sustain the process.
"Brother," Mij said grimly as they advanced through the battlefield, "these enhanced soldiers aren't evil—they're victims. The Sith cultists corrupted them and then abandoned them to die when the Imperial Republic arrived."
"I know. Which is why we need to end this quickly and get the survivors medical attention." Kai'Len activated his medical scanner, detecting the neural degradation affecting the enhanced soldiers. "Doc Dast, can anything be done for the enhanced soldiers who surrender?"
"Captain, the dark side corruption is too advanced to reverse, but we can make them comfortable and extend their lives long enough for them to see their families if they have any."
"Do it. Any enhanced soldier who surrenders gets medical care and the chance to contact their loved ones."
As they secured the command center, Mij reflected on what they'd accomplished. "Kai'Len, when this started, I was just looking for government contracts. Now I'm fighting alongside the Imperial Republic to liberate people from Sith torture. This is what legitimate authority looks like."
"Agreed, brother. The Imperial Republic doesn't conquer—it liberates. We're not here to exploit these people, we're here to free them from dark side corruption."
Their communicator activated with new orders from Admiral Taftican: "Ground teams, priority objective updated. Major Dex Korvain has been located at the governmental complex in Stonia. Capture for interrogation about Sith network operations."
"Copy that, Admiral. En route to governmental complex."
As they moved toward their new objective, both warriors understood that they were approaching the confrontation that would provide answers about the full scope of the Sith conspiracy. Major Korvain had been the operational commander of the enhanced forces—he would know where the Sith leadership had escaped to.
Lieutenant Cotar now wore an Imperial Republic liaison badge as he guided Imperial forces through Stonia's governmental district, his local knowledge proving invaluable in identifying which officials were likely to surrender and which might resist.
"Captain Ciunus," Cotar reported through their communication system, "I'm at the governmental complex with Imperial Marines. We have seventeen Almanian officials who want to surrender peacefully, but Major Korvain has barricaded himself in the security center with approximately twenty enhanced soldiers."
"Status on the surrendering officials?"
"Clean, as far as I can determine. Most of them had no knowledge of the Sith operations and are horrified to learn what their government was really doing. They're cooperating fully with Imperial Republic forces."
"And Major Korvain's position?"
"Heavily fortified, but his enhanced soldiers are visibly weakening. Without the Sith ritual sites to sustain them, I estimate they have hours at most before the dark side corruption becomes fatal."
Kai'Len and Mij arrived at the governmental complex to find Imperial Marines maintaining a defensive perimeter while Almanian civilians looked on with a mixture of fear and hope. The contrast was stark—Imperial Republic forces protecting both surrendering officials and innocent civilians, while Sith-loyal forces barricaded themselves with dying enhanced soldiers.
"Lieutenant Cotar," Kai'Len greeted his ally, "excellent work securing the surrendering officials. What's your read on the civilian population?"
"They're realizing that the Imperial Republic is here to protect them, not conquer them. Most people are relieved that the Sith operations have been eliminated—many suspected something terrible was happening but were too afraid to investigate."
"And Major Korvain?"
"He's trapped and he knows it. His enhanced soldiers are dying from dark side corruption, his Sith handlers have abandoned him, and he has no escape route. But he also knows that surrender means facing justice for the torture and murder of Imperial Republic citizens."
Mij studied the barricaded security center through his targeting scope. "Classic last stand scenario. He's got nothing to lose because he knows what he's done. We'll have to go in and get him."
"Agreed. But we take him alive if possible. He has intelligence about Sith network operations that we need."
As they prepared for the final assault, Cotar reflected on how much had changed since he'd first investigated the murders of Imperial scientists. "Captain, when this started, I thought I was just investigating a crime. Now I understand I was documenting evidence of a conspiracy that threatened galactic civilization."
"And you chose the right side, Lieutenant. Your investigation provided the evidence that allowed the Imperial Republic to discover and eliminate these Sith operations."
"The Imperial Republic gave me the choice to serve legitimate authority instead of corrupted government. That's more than Etago Ma'a's regime ever offered."
Their assault on the security center began with precision and determination, Imperial Republic forces moving to capture the last of the Sith-loyal leadership while protecting the innocent civilians who had suffered under dark side influence for too long.
The liberation of Almania was nearly complete, but the final confrontations with the conspiracy's leadership would determine whether the Imperial Republic could prevent the Sith network from reestablishing operations elsewhere.
The assault on Stonia's governmental security center required precision coordination between Imperial Republic Marines, special forces, and their Almanian allies. Captain Ciunus positioned his team for the final capture of Major Dex Korvain while ensuring that the surrounding civilian areas remained protected.
"Positions confirmed," Sergeant Thorne reported. "Enhanced soldiers inside the center are showing severe degradation. Thermal scans indicate most are barely conscious."
"Remember, we need Korvain alive for interrogation," Kai'Len emphasized. "He has intelligence about the Sith network that could prevent them from establishing operations elsewhere."
Lieutenant Cotar, now fully integrated as an Imperial Republic liaison, approached with crucial tactical intelligence. "Captain, I know this building's layout from my police work. There's a secondary entrance through the evidence storage area that Korvain might not have fortified."
"Show us."
Mij studied the building's structure through his scope. "If we can get inside through the secondary entrance while maintaining pressure on the main barricade, we can force Korvain into a surrender position without having to kill the enhanced soldiers who are already dying."
"Agreed. These enhanced soldiers are victims of Sith corruption, not willing enemies. We minimize casualties while securing our primary objective."
The assault began with Imperial Republic forces demonstrating the professional competence that had made them the galaxy's most respected military. Precise breaching charges created entry points while non-lethal suppression weapons neutralized enhanced soldiers whose Force abilities had degraded to the point where they could barely stand.
"Enhanced soldiers are surrendering," Corporal Shan reported as Imperial Republic medics moved in to provide care for the dying soldiers. "Most of them seem relieved that their suffering is ending."
"Treat them with dignity," Kai'Len ordered. "They were corrupted by Sith alchemy against their will. They deserve our compassion, not our contempt."
As they moved through the security center, the team encountered the tragic evidence of what Sith enhancement had cost. Enhanced Albatross soldiers lay dying from dark side corruption, their neural systems burned out by the dark side energy that had given them superhuman abilities.
"Major Korvain!" Kai'Len called out as they reached the central command area. "You're surrounded by Imperial Republic forces. Your enhanced soldiers are dying, your Sith handlers have abandoned you, and you have no escape route. Surrender now and you'll be treated according to Imperial Republic standards of justice."
"Justice?" Korvain's voice came from behind a makeshift barricade. "You call it justice to destroy people trying to protect their world from Imperial exploitation?"
"We call it justice to stop torture chambers where innocent people were killed by Sith alchemy. We call it justice to eliminate dark side corruption that turned your soldiers into dying weapons."
"You don't understand what you've destroyed! Those installations were the only thing keeping this sector safe from—"
His words were cut off as Mij flanked the barricade position, stunning Korvain with a precisely placed shot that left him unconscious but unharmed.
"Target secured," Mij reported. "Major Dex Korvain is alive and ready for interrogation."
In the makeshift interrogation facility established in Stonia's now-Imperial Republic administered government building, Major Korvain faced a panel consisting of Captain Ciunus, Chief Morris, Lieutenant Cotar, and Princess Ashlee herself, who had descended to the planet's surface to personally oversee the intelligence gathering.
"Major Korvain," Princess Ashlee began with royal authority, "you are charged with conspiracy to murder Imperial Republic citizens, collaboration with Sith cultists, and treason against civilized government. Before we proceed to justice, you have the opportunity to provide intelligence that might mitigate your sentence."
Korvain looked at his interrogators with a mixture of defiance and exhaustion. "Your Highness, you have no idea what forces you've unleashed by destroying those installations."
"Enlighten us," Chief Morris interjected. "Tell us about the Sith network you've been serving."
"I wasn't serving them—I was trying to contain them! The Sith cult survivors have been operating in this sector for forty years, using ancient sites to conduct dark side experiments. We made a deal with them to limit their operations to volunteers in exchange for enhanced capabilities to defend against greater threats."
"Volunteers?" Lieutenant Cotar's voice carried controlled fury. "I saw the torture chambers, Major. Those people were screaming in agony while Sith cultists consumed their life force."
"The volunteers knew the risks—"
"No one volunteers to be tortured to death by dark side alchemy," Princess Ashlee stated with absolute finality. "Where are the Sith cultists now, Major? Where did they escape to when we began orbital bombardment?"
Korvain was quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with loyalties that had been built on deception and corruption.
"They have installations on Rhen Var, Kesh, and Ziost. Ancient Sith worlds where they've been rebuilding dark side technology using Imperial Republic archaeological data."
Chief Morris leaned forward. "How did they gain access to classified Imperial Republic databases?"
"They didn't infiltrate your systems—they recruited researchers. Archaeologists and historians who believed they were conducting legitimate research into ancient civilizations. The Sith cultists convinced them they were preserving historical knowledge, not reactivating torture facilities."
The implications were staggering. Princess Ashlee understood immediately: "So Imperial Republic citizens were unknowingly providing intelligence that helped Sith cultists establish torture installations."
"Yes, Your Highness. And when your scientists started discovering that the 'energy sources' were actually dark side artifacts, the cult leadership ordered their elimination."
"Including Dr. Thale and his team."
"The murder order came from Etago Ma'a, but he was acting on instructions from the true cult leadership. Ma'a is a puppet—the real power is Dark Lord Skere Kaan, who has been coordinating Sith operations across multiple sectors."
The name sent a chill through the interrogation room. Dark Lord Skere Kaan was a figure from ancient Sith history, supposedly killed centuries ago.
"You're saying a Sith Lord from the ancient wars is still alive and operating in Imperial Republic space?" Captain Ciunus asked.
"Clone body, original consciousness transferred through Sith alchemy. He's been building a network of Sith installations throughout the Outer Rim, using corrupted planetary governments as cover for dark side experiments."
Princess Ashlee activated her emergency communicator. "Admiral Taftican, priority intelligence. We need immediate fleet deployment to Rhen Var, Kesh, and Ziost. Ancient Sith Lord confirmed active with multi-sector operations."
"Your Highness, fleet assets are already deploying based on your transmission. What's the threat assessment?"
"Maximum threat level, Admiral. We're dealing with organized Sith resurgence led by an ancient Dark Lord using modern technology and corrupted governments."
After ending the transmission, Princess Ashlee turned back to Korvain. "Where is Etago Ma'a now?"
"Korriban. Skere Kaan has a primary installation there where he's attempting to resurrect additional Sith Lords using the same consciousness transfer techniques that preserved his own existence."
"And the enhanced soldier program?"
"A failure from their perspective. The dark side corruption kills the subjects too quickly to create sustainable armies. They've abandoned enhancement in favor of direct dark side manipulation of planetary governments."
Chief Morris made notes rapidly. "Major, will you testify to these facts before Imperial Republic courts and provide detailed intelligence about Sith operations?"
Korvain looked at Princess Ashlee, seeing for the first time the moral authority he had been fighting against. "Your Highness, I believed we were protecting our world from Imperial exploitation. I see now that we were serving forces far worse than anything I feared from the Imperial Republic."
"The Imperial Republic protects citizens from exactly the kind of exploitation you described, Major. We eliminate threats to civilized society—we don't become them."
"I will cooperate fully with Imperial Republic intelligence, Your Highness. The galaxy deserves to be free from Sith corruption."
After the interrogation, Princess Ashlee stood in the governmental complex that now served as Imperial Republic command headquarters for Almanian operations, considering intelligence that revealed a threat far beyond what they had initially discovered.
"Captain Ciunus, Chief Morris, Lieutenant Cotar," she addressed her team, "we've eliminated Sith operations on Almania, but we've also discovered that this was merely one node in a network of ancient Sith resurgence across multiple sectors."
"Your Highness," Kai'Len responded, "what are your orders regarding the broader Sith network?"
"Complete elimination, exactly as we've done here. The Imperial Republic will not permit Sith Lords to operate torture installations anywhere in civilized space." Her voice carried the absolute determination of House Stratus. "But first, we secure Almania completely and ensure that no traces of dark side corruption remain."
"And Etago Ma'a?"
"He will face Imperial Republic justice for the murder of our citizens and collaboration with Sith cultists. But the priority is eliminating Skere Kaan's operations before he can resurrect additional Sith Lords."
Lieutenant Cotar stepped forward. "Your Highness, what about Almania's future government? The entire planetary administration was compromised by Sith influence."
"Imperial Republic administration until clean local government can be established. Citizens like yourself who chose Imperial Republic values over corruption will help rebuild legitimate authority."
"I'm honored to serve, Your Highness."
Chief Morris activated his intelligence communicator. "Your Highness, we're receiving confirmation that fleets are deploying to the ancient Sith worlds. This operation may require coordination with Jedi forces if we're dealing with an ancient Dark Lord."
"Coordinate with whatever forces are necessary. The Imperial Republic's position on Sith operations remains absolute: complete elimination."
As they prepared for the expanded operations against the broader Sith network, Princess Ashlee reflected on how a simple investigation into murdered scientists had revealed the most serious dark side threat since the ancient wars.
But the Imperial Republic had demonstrated its moral authority and military capability. They had liberated Almania from decades of hidden corruption, eliminated Sith torture installations, and captured intelligence that would allow them to eliminate the broader threat.
"Captain, Chief, Lieutenant," she addressed her team, "what we've accomplished here demonstrates that the Imperial Republic will not compromise with evil, regardless of its scope or complexity. We find dark side corruption, and we eliminate it completely."
"Yes, Your Highness," they replied in unison, understanding that they had participated in something far greater than a military operation—they had defended civilized society against forces that would destroy it.
The liberation of Almania was complete, but the war against Sith resurgence was just beginning.
End of Part 3
✅ Formal war declaration against Sith-corrupted Almanian government
✅ Complete orbital bombardment of all Sith installations
✅ Successful invasion with civilian cooperation and official surrenders
✅ Assassination investigation resolved - Confirmed Sith conspiracy coordination
✅ Major Korvain captured and interrogated - Full intelligence obtained
✅ Character development completed - Cotar integration, Kai'Len & Mij partnership, Princess Ashlee command authority
✅ Sith network scope revealed - Ancient Dark Lord Skere Kaan coordinating multi-sector operations
Continuing from Chapter 24: Major Korvain's intelligence has revealed that the Almanian Sith operations were part of a vast network coordinated by ancient Dark Lord Skere Kaan, operating from installations on Rhen Var, Kesh, Ziost, and Korriban. The Imperial Republic now faces the largest dark side threat since the ancient wars.
The Palace situation room had been transformed into a galactic command center as High Prince James coordinated the Imperial Republic's response to the most serious dark side threat in recorded history. Holographic displays showed the locations of confirmed Sith installations across four ancient worlds, while intelligence reports detailed decades of infiltration and corruption.
"Members of the Galactic Security Council," James addressed the assembled leaders through secure holographic transmission, "Princess Ashlee's operations on Almania have revealed that we are facing organized Sith resurgence on a scale not seen since the ancient wars."
The holographic images of Grand Admiral Quinn, Executor Treyson, Praetor-General Shan, and Director Klone listened with grim attention as the scope of the threat became clear.
"The entity calling itself Dark Lord Skere Kaan has been operating for forty years, using corrupted planetary governments to establish torture installations where innocent citizens are murdered through dark side alchemy. This is not political rebellion—this is systematic evil that threatens civilized society itself."
Grand Admiral Quinn activated his tactical display. "Your Majesty, fleet deployments are already underway to Rhen Var, Kesh, and Ziost. But Korriban presents special challenges—it's the ancient Sith homeworld with unknown defensive capabilities."
"What kind of defensive capabilities?"
"Unknown, sir. Our archaeological databases show that Korriban was abandoned centuries ago, but if Skere Kaan has been operating there for decades, he may have reactivated ancient Sith technology."
Executor Treyson leaned forward in her transmission. "Your Majesty, what about the political implications? If we're attacking four different worlds simultaneously, other galactic governments may view this as Imperial Republic expansion rather than anti-Sith operations."
"Then we make our intentions clear, Tavria. We are not conquering worlds—we are eliminating installations where Sith cultists torture innocent people. Any government that objects to the elimination of torture facilities is revealing their own corruption."
Director Klone activated his intelligence report. "Your Majesty, our investigation into database infiltration has identified the scope of Sith intelligence gathering. They've been accessing Imperial Republic archaeological surveys for thirty years, using our own research to identify and reactivate ancient dark side sites."
"How?"
"Recruited researchers who believed they were conducting legitimate historical preservation. Dr. Thale's team was eliminated when they discovered that 'energy sources' were actually dark side artifacts being used to torture people."
The betrayal was staggering—Imperial Republic citizens had unknowingly provided intelligence that enabled Sith torture operations throughout their space.
"Lan, complete list of compromised personnel and recommended security changes."
"Already prepared, Your Majesty. But we estimate that dozens of Imperial Republic archaeologists and historians may have provided information without realizing its true purpose."
Praetor-General Shan consulted her security assessments. "Your Majesty, regarding the assassination attempt—we've confirmed it was coordinated with Almanian operations to maximize governmental instability during Imperial Republic investigation."
"So they were willing to assassinate Imperial Republic leadership to protect torture installations."
"Yes, sir. The entire conspiracy was designed to prevent Imperial Republic discovery of their operations while weakening our response capabilities."
James stood and moved to the tactical display showing the four ancient Sith worlds. "Then our response demonstrates that attacking Imperial Republic leadership only ensures complete and absolute elimination of the threats responsible."
He activated the emergency broadcast system that would reach every Imperial Republic military unit throughout known space.
"All Imperial Republic forces, this is High Prince James. We have confirmed that the murders on Almania were part of a vast Sith conspiracy led by an ancient Dark Lord operating torture installations across multiple worlds. The Imperial Republic's response is absolute: complete elimination of all Sith operations, regardless of their scope or the political complications involved."
"We are deploying fleets to Rhen Var, Kesh, Ziost, and Korriban with authorization to use whatever force is necessary to eliminate dark side threats. This is not conquest—this is the elimination of forces that torture innocent people for dark side power."
"Let this serve as notice to any government, organization, or individual that may be collaborating with Sith operations: the Imperial Republic will find you, and we will eliminate your operations completely. There is no safe harbor for those who torture Imperial Republic citizens."
After ending the transmission, James turned back to his council. "Jared, coordinate the military response. Tavria, prepare for potential political backlash from governments that may be Sith-compromised. Kaidlen, security review of all Imperial Republic installations for potential Sith infiltration. Lan, complete investigation of database breaches and prosecution of any willing collaborators."
"And the Chancellor succession, Your Majesty?" Executor Treyson asked.
"Will be announced once this crisis is resolved. The Imperial Republic needs stability, but it needs security first."
As his council moved to implement their orders, James reflected on the magnitude of what they faced. This wasn't just about protecting Imperial Republic citizens—this was about defending civilized society against forces that would corrupt and destroy it.
The Imperial Republic would not compromise with evil, regardless of its scope or antiquity.
From his flagship in the Coruscant system, Grand Admiral Quinn coordinated the largest Imperial Republic military operation since the founding, deploying fleets to four ancient Sith worlds simultaneously while maintaining reserves for potential threats on other compromised worlds.
"Admiral," his chief of staff reported, "fleet deployments confirmed. Admiral Voss commanding Rhen Var operations, Admiral Chen taking Kesh, Admiral Rodriguez deploying to Ziost. You're maintaining direct command of Korriban operations."
"Correct. Korriban is the primary installation where Skere Kaan is attempting to resurrect additional Sith Lords. That requires personal command attention."
"Sir, intelligence estimates suggest we may face Force-enhanced defensive systems on these ancient worlds. Our standard tactics may be insufficient."
Quinn studied the tactical projections. "Then we adapt. Princess Ashlee's operations demonstrated that overwhelming firepower combined with moral authority defeats dark side operations. We apply the same approach on a larger scale."
"Rules of engagement, sir?"
"Identical to Almanian operations. Complete elimination of all Sith installations, protection of innocent civilians, and no preservation of dark side technology for study. Document everything for defensive intelligence, then destroy it all."
His communication officer activated priority channels. "Sir, incoming transmission from Admiral Taftican aboard the Mal'ury'ush. She's requesting coordination for Korriban assault."
"Admiral Taftican," Quinn greeted her holographic image, "status on your Korriban deployment?"
"Admiral, Princess Ashlee has requested permission to participate in Korriban operations personally. She wants to confront Etago Ma'a for the murder of her friends."
Quinn considered this carefully. "Personal investment could compromise tactical judgment, but royal presence would demonstrate Imperial Republic commitment. What's your assessment?"
"The Princess has shown excellent command judgment throughout Almanian operations. Her presence would provide moral authority and demonstrate that the Imperial Republic doesn't hide from confronting evil."
"Granted. But she remains with fleet command, not ground assault forces. We can't risk royal family members in direct combat against ancient Sith Lords."
"Understood, Admiral. What about Jedi consultation? If we're dealing with Dark Lord Skere Kaan, Force-user expertise might be valuable."
Quinn activated his secure database. "I'm authorizing Jedi Marshal Cognatus to join Korriban operations as Force advisor. His expertise with dark side threats could provide tactical advantages."
"Excellent. Timeline for coordinated assault?"
"Seventy-two hours for all fleets to reach positions. Simultaneous assault to prevent Sith forces from coordinating defense or evacuation between worlds."
As Quinn finalized coordination, he reflected on the historical significance of their operations. The Imperial Republic was about to assault the ancient homeworld of the Sith, not for conquest or political advantage, but to eliminate torture installations that threatened civilized society.
"Communications, fleet-wide broadcast," Quinn ordered. "All Imperial Republic forces deploying to ancient Sith worlds: remember that we are not conquerors. We are liberators. We are eliminating torture installations that have corrupted innocent people for decades. Every shot fired, every installation destroyed, protects citizens who cannot protect themselves."
"We face an enemy that has survived for centuries by hiding in darkness, corrupting the innocent, and exploiting political weakness. Today, the Imperial Republic brings light to that darkness and justice to those who thought themselves beyond reach."
"The ancient Sith Lords believed they were beyond challenge. They were wrong."
Aboard the Mal'ury'ush as it departed Almanian space for the ancient Sith homeworld, Princess Ashlee stood in her quarters reviewing intelligence about Korriban while preparing for the most significant military operation of her life. The world where Dr. Thale's murderers would finally face Imperial Republic justice.
"Your Highness," Commodore Gourdine entered with the latest tactical reports, "Admiral Quinn has confirmed your participation in Korriban operations with the stipulation that you remain with fleet command."
"Understood. I want to be present when Etago Ma'a faces justice, but I won't compromise tactical operations for personal satisfaction."
"What about the political implications? Confronting an ancient Sith Lord on the Sith homeworld will be seen throughout the galaxy as a test of Imperial Republic resolve."
Ashlee moved to the viewport, looking out at the stars that would soon reveal the ancient world where her friends' killers had taken refuge. "Good. Let every government in the galaxy see how the Imperial Republic responds to those who torture our citizens. Let them understand that political position, ancient power, or hiding on sacred worlds provides no protection from Imperial Republic justice."
Chief Morris entered with new intelligence reports. "Your Highness, updated intelligence from Major Korvain's interrogation. Skere Kaan has been using Korriban's ancient tombs as ritual sites to attempt consciousness transfers into clone bodies, trying to resurrect other ancient Sith Lords."
"How many has he successfully resurrected?"
"Unknown, Your Highness. But the installations include facilities for at least twelve consciousness transfer rituals. If he's been successful, we may face multiple ancient Sith Lords with centuries of dark side knowledge."
The implications were sobering. They weren't just confronting one ancient Dark Lord, but potentially an entire council of resurrected Sith with all their accumulated evil.
"Chief Morris, does this change our tactical approach?"
"No, Your Highness. Complete elimination remains the objective. Whether we're destroying one Dark Lord or twelve, the Imperial Republic's position is absolute."
"And the innocent people who may be imprisoned in these installations?"
"Rescue if possible, mercy if they're beyond saving from dark side corruption. The same protocols that guided Almanian operations."
Admiral Taftican joined them in the quarters. "Your Highness, Jedi Marshal Cognatus will be joining us for Korriban operations. His expertise with Force phenomena may provide tactical advantages."
"Excellent. What's his assessment of our chances against multiple ancient Sith Lords?"
"He emphasized that dark side power corrupts its users as much as its victims. These resurrected Sith Lords may be powerful, but they're also consumed by hatred and arrogance that makes them vulnerable to coordinated assault."
Princess Ashlee activated her personal communicator. "Get me a secure channel to my brother."
Within moments, High Prince James appeared in holographic projection. "Ashlee, what's your status?"
"James, we're approaching Korriban where Etago Ma'a and potentially multiple resurrected Sith Lords are operating. I want to ensure my authority is clear: complete elimination of all dark side operations, regardless of what ancient powers we discover."
"Your authority is absolute, sister. Destroy every trace of Sith influence on that world. If they've been torturing people for forty years while hiding behind ancient power, then their ancient power ends today."
"And if we discover installations on other worlds?"
"Same response. The Imperial Republic will not permit Sith operations anywhere in civilized space. Eliminate them all."
After ending the transmission, Princess Ashlee turned to her team. "Admiral, Chief, Commodore—what we're about to do will be remembered in galactic history. We're assaulting the ancient Sith homeworld not for conquest, but for justice. We're demonstrating that no evil is too ancient, too powerful, or too well-hidden to escape Imperial Republic response."
"Dr. Thale and his team died because they discovered that 'energy sources' were actually artifacts used to torture people. Their deaths will be avenged, and their discovery will ensure that no one else suffers the same fate."
"When we reach Korriban, we will show the galaxy what Imperial Republic justice looks like when applied to those who believe themselves beyond reach."
As the Mal'ury'ush approached the ancient Sith homeworld, Princess Ashlee reflected on the journey that had brought them here. What began as concern for missing friends had evolved into the liberation of multiple worlds from hidden Sith corruption.
The Imperial Republic had demonstrated its values through actions rather than words, and those values would be tested against the ultimate dark side stronghold.
The modified Imperial Republic cruiser Sovereignty carried Jedi Marshal Cognatus toward Korriban with specialized equipment for detecting and countering dark side phenomena. As the Imperial Republic's premier Force-user advisor for dark side threats, he understood the magnitude of what they faced.
"Marshal," Captain Hendricks briefed him as they approached the ancient Sith world, "Princess Ashlee has requested your assessment of potential Sith Lord capabilities and recommended countermeasures."
"Captain, the ancient Sith Lords were powerful, but they were also consumed by hatred and arrogance that made them predictable. Modern Imperial Republic tactics combined with Force-guided coordination can overcome dark side advantages."
"What about their installations? Ancient Sith tombs with reactivated technology?"
Cognatus studied the sensor readings as Korriban came into view—a desolate world where the very landscape seemed tainted by centuries of dark side corruption. "The dark side is powerful, Captain, but it's ultimately self-destructive. These installations may seem formidable, but they're built on foundations of hatred and fear that make them vulnerable to coordinated assault."
"And the torture chambers where they've been corrupting people?"
"Those represent the greatest tragedy and the clearest moral imperative. The Sith believe they gain power by causing suffering. The Imperial Republic demonstrates true strength by ending that suffering."
His communicator activated with a priority transmission from Princess Ashlee aboard the Mal'ury'ush. "Marshal Cognatus, thank you for joining our operations. What's your assessment of the Force phenomena we may encounter?"
"Your Highness, Skere Kaan was a powerful Dark Lord, but he was also defeated centuries ago. His resurrection through Sith alchemy may have preserved his knowledge, but it's also bound him to installations and artifacts that make him vulnerable."
"Meaning?"
"Ancient Sith Lords derive power from specific locations and rituals. If we disrupt their installations and destroy their artifacts, we eliminate the sources of their strength."
"What about innocent people who may be held in these installations?"
"The Force will guide us to distinguish between the corrupted and the innocent, Your Highness. Those who can be saved will be saved. Those who are beyond saving deserve mercy."
"And our tactical approach?"
"Overwhelming force applied with moral clarity. The dark side feeds on fear, hatred, and despair. Imperial Republic forces motivated by justice and protection of the innocent represent everything dark side power cannot overcome."
As the fleet approached Korriban, Cognatus felt the oppressive weight of dark side energy that had accumulated over centuries of Sith occupation. But he also sensed something else—fear and desperation from the dark side practitioners who suddenly faced organized opposition they could not corrupt or intimidate.
"Captain," he addressed the ship's commander, "inform Princess Ashlee that the Sith Lords on Korriban are already demonstrating weakness. They're afraid of Imperial Republic justice, and that fear will be their undoing."
"How can you tell, Marshal?"
"The Force, Captain. Dark side practitioners gain strength from causing fear in others, but they become weak when they experience fear themselves. Today, ancient evil learns what it means to be afraid."
As the Imperial Republic fleets converged on the four ancient Sith worlds, the largest anti-dark side operation in galactic history was about to begin. The Imperial Republic would either demonstrate that no evil was beyond justice—or discover forces that challenged their understanding of what civilized society could overcome.
But Jedi Marshal Cognatus felt confidence through the Force. The Imperial Republic represented hope, justice, and protection of the innocent. Those were powers that no ancient Sith Lord, regardless of their knowledge or artifacts, could ultimately defeat.
The frozen wastes of Rhen Var had concealed Sith installations beneath kilometers of ice for decades, but Imperial Republic deep-scanning technology revealed the horrific truth: vast underground complexes where hundreds of people had been tortured to death in dark side experiments.
"Admiral," the reconnaissance commander reported from the bridge of the Intrepid, "thermal imaging confirms multiple active installations with life signs indicating both Sith cultists and imprisoned subjects."
"Civilian population on the surface?"
"Minimal. Small research stations that appear to be legitimate archaeological operations, though we can't rule out Sith infiltration."
Admiral Voss studied the tactical display showing the underground network that extended far beyond what surface surveys had revealed. "Communications, open emergency frequencies to all surface installations. Inform them that Imperial Republic forces are eliminating Sith operations and offer protective evacuation for any civilians."
"Sir, what if some of the researchers have been unknowingly collaborating with Sith operations?"
"Then they get the chance to cooperate with Imperial Republic investigation and receive protection rather than prosecution. We distinguish between willing collaborators and deceived victims."
The first phase of Rhen Var operations demonstrated Imperial Republic efficiency and moral clarity. Surface installations were secured peacefully, with most researchers expressing relief that Imperial Republic forces had arrived to investigate suspicious activities they'd observed but been afraid to report.
"Admiral," the marine commander reported, "surface installations secured. We have seventeen researchers requesting Imperial Republic protection and claiming they suspected their work was being misused but were threatened into silence."
"Protective custody and full debriefing. Anyone who was coerced into unwilling collaboration receives clemency and witness protection."
"What about the underground installations?"
"Deep-penetration bombardment followed by rescue operations for any survivors. Standard Sith elimination protocol."
The bombardment of Rhen Var's Sith installations was visible from orbit as ancient ice formations collapsed into massive caverns filled with dark side artifacts and torture chambers. But unlike Almania, Rhen Var yielded survivors—Imperial Republic citizens who had been captured during archaeological expeditions and held prisoner for months while Sith cultists conducted experiments.
"Medical teams to the surface immediately," Voss ordered as rescue operations began. "Full trauma treatment and psychological support for all survivors."
As Imperial Republic forces eliminated the last traces of Sith influence on Rhen Var, Admiral Voss reflected on the difference between this operation and traditional conquest. They weren't taking territory—they were liberating people from hidden horror and offering protection to anyone who chose Imperial Republic values over dark side corruption.
The jungle world of Kesh presented unique challenges as Sith installations were integrated into ancient temple complexes hidden beneath dense vegetation. But it also presented opportunities—the local population had been resisting Sith influence for years and welcomed Imperial Republic forces as liberators.
"Admiral," the cultural liaison reported, "the indigenous Keshiri people have been providing intelligence about Sith operations to our advance teams. They've been waiting for outside help to eliminate what they call 'the shadow cult.'"
"What do they know about Sith activities?"
"Disappearances, screaming from the ancient temples, and corrupted officials who've been imposing increasingly harsh restrictions on the population. The traditional leaders want to cooperate fully with Imperial Republic operations."
Admiral Chen activated the communication system to address both Imperial Republic forces and the Keshiri population. "People of Kesh, this is Admiral Chen of the Imperial Republic Navy. We are here to eliminate the shadow cult installations that have been terrorizing your world. Any citizen who assists our operations will receive Imperial Republic protection."
The response was immediate and overwhelming. Keshiri guides led Imperial Republic forces to hidden temple entrances, identified which officials had been corrupted by Sith influence, and provided detailed intelligence about cult activities that had been concealed from outside observation.
"Admiral," the ground operations commander reported, "we have local assistance that's unprecedented in Imperial Republic operations. The Keshiri people are treating us as liberating heroes rather than foreign invaders."
"Because we are liberators, Colonel. Document everything—this is how Imperial Republic operations should function when we're truly protecting people from oppression."
The assault on Kesh's Sith temples revealed the most sophisticated dark side installations yet discovered. Ancient Sith architecture had been reactivated with modern technology to create combination torture facilities and ritual sites where Sith cultists had been attempting to corrupt the entire population through contaminated water supplies.
"They were trying to corrupt the entire world," the science officer reported with horror. "Gradual dark side poisoning of the population to create a planet-sized pool of corrupted subjects for Sith experiments."
"Which is why the Keshiri people were so desperate for outside help. Their traditional leaders sensed the corruption but couldn't identify its source."
As Imperial Republic forces eliminated the Sith installations with the assistance of grateful local guides, Admiral Chen understood that they had discovered something significant—a world where the Imperial Republic's anti-Sith operations had been welcomed by the entire indigenous population.
"Communications, fleet-wide transmission: Kesh operations confirm that populations suffering under Sith influence welcome Imperial Republic liberation. We are not conquerors—we are answering desperate pleas for help from people who cannot free themselves."
The ancient Sith world of Ziost presented the most politically complex situation, as the planetary government claimed legitimacy while simultaneously hosting Sith installations that torture Imperial Republic citizens. Admiral Rodriguez faced the challenge of eliminating dark side operations while navigating a corrupt but ostensibly legal administration.
"Admiral," the diplomatic officer reported, "the Ziost planetary government is demanding that Imperial Republic forces respect their sovereignty and cease military operations."
"What's their justification for harboring Sith torture installations?"
"They claim ignorance of any Sith operations and insist that Imperial Republic forces are violating galactic law by attacking their world."
Rodriguez studied intelligence reports that clearly showed governmental coordination with Sith cult activities. "Communications, patch me through to the Ziost planetary leadership."
The holographic image of Chancellor Veran, an elderly human with obvious cybernetic enhancements, appeared with an expression of diplomatic outrage. "Admiral Rodriguez, I protest your unprovoked attack on our sovereign world. The Ziost Confederacy has committed no acts of war against the Imperial Republic."
"Chancellor Veran, our reconnaissance has documented Sith installations on your world where Imperial Republic citizens have been tortured to death. How do you explain the coordination between your government and these operations?"
"I deny any knowledge of such activities. You have no right to—"
"Chancellor, we have recorded communications between your officials and Sith cult leaders coordinating the capture and delivery of Imperial Republic citizens for dark side experiments. Your government has forfeited legitimacy by collaborating with torturers."
The Chancellor's expression shifted from diplomatic protest to desperate defiance. "The Imperial Republic has no authority to determine governmental legitimacy in sovereign space."
"The Imperial Republic has absolute authority to eliminate operations that torture our citizens, regardless of the political complications involved." Rodriguez activated his tactical display. "You have thirty minutes to evacuate all innocent civilians from government installations. After that, we eliminate Sith operations and arrest collaborating officials."
"You cannot—"
"Chancellor, your choice is cooperation or forced removal. Choose wisely."
The Ziost operations demonstrated Imperial Republic resolve when faced with governmental corruption that extended to the highest levels. Orbital bombardment eliminated Sith installations while precise strikes neutralized government facilities that had coordinated cult activities, all while protecting civilian populations through coordinated evacuation protocols.
"Admiral," the marine commander reported, "governmental leadership has fled to unknown locations, but we've secured all Sith installations and rescued forty-three Imperial Republic citizens who were being held for dark side experiments."
"And civilian cooperation?"
"Mixed but generally positive. Most Ziost citizens are relieved that the Sith operations have been eliminated, even if they're uncertain about Imperial Republic administration."
"Then we demonstrate through actions that Imperial Republic administration serves citizen welfare rather than exploitation. Ziost citizens will judge us by how we treat them, not by political rhetoric."
As Imperial Republic forces established transitional administration on Ziost, Admiral Rodriguez reflected on the precedent they were setting. The Imperial Republic was demonstrating that governmental sovereignty provided no protection for regimes that collaborated with forces that tortured innocent people.
The ancient Sith homeworld of Korriban appeared before the Imperial Republic fleet like a wound in space—a desolate world where the very atmosphere seemed tainted by centuries of dark side corruption. As the Valiant and Mal'ury'ush led the largest assault force of the operation, both Grand Admiral Quinn and Princess Ashlee understood they were approaching the ultimate test of Imperial Republic resolve.
"Your Highness," Quinn addressed Princess Ashlee through secure holographic communication, "sensor readings confirm multiple active installations across Korriban's surface and extensive underground networks. This is far larger than any single Sith operation we've encountered."
"Energy readings?"
"Massive dark side phenomena emanating from at least twelve major sites. If Major Korvain's intelligence is accurate, Skere Kaan has been using these installations to attempt the resurrection of multiple ancient Sith Lords."
Princess Ashlee studied the tactical displays from the Mal'ury'ush command center. "Which means we may face not just one ancient Dark Lord, but an entire council of resurrected Sith with centuries of accumulated evil."
"That's the assessment, Your Highness. How do you want to proceed?"
"The same way we've handled every other Sith installation—complete elimination. Whether we're destroying one Dark Lord or twelve, the Imperial Republic's position remains absolute."
Jedi Marshal Cognatus joined the command conference from his position aboard the Sovereignty. "Your Highness, Admiral, I'm detecting something unusual about the dark side phenomena on Korriban."
"Meaning?"
"The energy patterns suggest desperation rather than strength. Skere Kaan is attempting to resurrect additional Sith Lords not because he's powerful, but because he's afraid of Imperial Republic justice."
"Explain."
"Ancient Sith Lords derived power from causing fear in others, but they become weak when they experience fear themselves. The discovery of Sith operations and the systematic elimination of their network has forced them into desperation."
Quinn consulted his tactical assessments. "So they're trying to resurrect reinforcements because their existing capabilities are insufficient to resist Imperial Republic forces?"
"Exactly, Admiral. Which means their strongest installations are also their most vulnerable—the resurrection sites where they're concentrating their efforts."
Princess Ashlee felt a surge of determination. "Then we target the resurrection sites first. Prevent any additional Sith Lords from being activated while eliminating the ones already operating."
"Your Highness," Quinn observed, "that will require simultaneous assault on multiple heavily defended installations."
"Admiral, we have the largest Imperial Republic fleet ever assembled, supported by moral authority that every person in this fleet understands. We're not attacking Korriban for conquest—we're eliminating torture installations that have operated in darkness for forty years."
"Understood, Your Highness. All ships, prepare for coordinated assault on Sith resurrection sites. Priority targets: tomb complexes showing active consciousness transfer rituals."
As the Imperial Republic fleet prepared for the climactic assault on the ancient Sith homeworld, Princess Ashlee reflected on the journey that had brought them here. Dr. Thale's murder had revealed a conspiracy that threatened civilized society throughout the galaxy.
"Admiral, Marshal," she addressed her command team, "when we eliminate these installations, we're not just avenging the deaths of our citizens. We're demonstrating to the galaxy that no evil is too ancient, too powerful, or too well-hidden to escape justice."
"The Imperial Republic represents the hope that civilized society can overcome forces that would corrupt and destroy it. Today, we prove that hope is justified."
As Korriban's ancient tombs came into weapons range, the largest anti-Sith operation in galactic history was about to reach its climax.
The fleet dropped out of hyperspace above Korriban in staggered formation — twenty-three capital ships of the combined 5th Assault Fleet and Taftican Task Force, with attached elements of Grand Admiral Quinn's strategic reserve. What had begun as a blockade of a single Outer Rim system had become the largest concentrated deployment the Imperial Republic had mounted in a decade.
Taftican stood on the flag bridge of the Prometheus, her hands clasped behind her back as she studied the tactical plot. Korriban hung in the center of the display — a red-brown scar of a world, its surface scored with the ruins of tombs and academies that had been old when the Imperial Republic was young. Even through the holographic projection, she could sense that this place was wrong.
"Admiral," her flag captain reported, "all ships reverted successfully. No hostile contacts in system. Sensor sweeps indicate minimal orbital infrastructure — a handful of automated relay stations and what appear to be smuggler transponders on the surface. Nothing military."
"As expected. Skere Kaan doesn't need a fleet. He needs the planet itself." Taftican turned to the intelligence officer beside her. "Commander, status of the surface survey?"
"Three confirmed installations, Admiral. Primary site is the Valley of the Dark Lords — the tomb complex Major Korvain identified. Two secondary support sites approximately forty kilometers east. All three show power signatures, and the primary site is radiating something our sensors can't properly categorize. Our analysts are calling it 'anomalous energetic emission' for the official log, but..."
"But?"
The officer hesitated. "But Marshal Cognatus asked us to stop trying to measure it, Admiral. He said the instruments weren't designed for what they were picking up."
Taftican's jaw tightened. She had commanded fleets against Sith incursions before. She had watched enhanced Albatross soldiers die in droves on Almania. She had authorized the orbital bombardment of Facility Seven without flinching. But the slow, creeping wrongness she felt in her chest as she looked at the tactical plot of Korriban was new, and she did not care for it.
"Open a channel to the Jedi Marshal. My ready room, ten minutes." She paused. "And get me KSIC as well. If the Klone Center is going to earn its keep in its first year, today is the day. I want every piece of cross-referenced intelligence they have on ancient Sith sites, consciousness-transfer rituals, and anything Rhen Var's archives recovered before we lost the installation."
"Aye, Admiral."
Dene had been meditating in the observation lounge since the fleet committed to the jump. He had felt Korriban long before they arrived — not as a location in space, but as a weight pressing against the back of his awareness, a voice speaking too softly to make out words. By the time the ship reverted, the voice had become a chorus.
He entered Taftican's ready room composed, but the Grand Admiral knew him well enough to see past the composure.
"How bad?" she asked, without preamble.
"Bad enough that I'm going to ask you to keep the fleet above the atmosphere until I tell you otherwise," Dene replied. He accepted the cup of caf one of her aides offered but did not drink it. "Korriban is a wound, Tura. It's been a wound for four thousand years. What Skere Kaan has been doing here for the last forty — whatever rituals, whatever transfers, whatever resurrections — he's been feeding that wound. The whole planet is saturated with dark side energy."
"Can your people function down there?"
"Jedi, yes. With difficulty. Aurielle and I will manage. I won't pretend it will be comfortable — neither of us has set foot on a world this saturated since Rhen Var, and this is worse. Much worse." He set the cup down.
Taftican's expression flickered at the mention of Rhen Var. She had not been on that operation, but she had read the after-action reports. Everyone in Fleet Command had. A Command General who had fought a Sith aboard the HMS Vigilant and lived did not require her to second-guess his assessment of dark side saturation.
"Your soldiers, though," Dene continued, "anyone not shielded and not prepared — they're going to feel it. Headaches. Aggression. Paranoia. Some of them will want to fire on their own squadmates. You need to brief every ground commander personally. If a man starts acting wrong, get him back to orbit."
"Understood." Taftican made a note on her datapad. "What about the installation itself?"
"The tomb complex is a Sith construct layered on top of something much older. I can feel at least three separate dark side presences inside it — possibly more. One of them is immensely old. That will be Skere Kaan."
"Korvain's intelligence suggested he uses consciousness transfer to maintain existence across clone bodies. KSIC ran it against every archival fragment we have, and they think the technique is consistent with what was recovered from Rhen Var before the installation was lost."
"Korvain's intelligence is consistent with what I sensed meditating on the approach. He's done this before. He'll try to do it again." Dene finally met her eyes directly. "Admiral, I want to be very clear with you about what you are sending your people into. We are not arresting this man. We are not capturing him. If he is taken alive, he will not remain in custody — not in any meaningful sense. A transparisteel cell and a restraining collar are sufficient for criminals. They are not sufficient for a Sith Lord who has kept himself alive since before the Ruusan Reformation."
Taftican was silent for a long moment.
"Then what are your recommendations?"
"Extract Etago Ma'a. He's not Force-sensitive and he's the one Princess Ashlee deserves to see stand trial — he's the one who gave the order to murder her friends. Recover any victims we can from the stasis chambers. Document everything. And then..." Dene paused. "And then you bury Korriban from orbit, and you do not stop until nothing in that valley is moving."
"You'll be inside the tomb when that happens."
"Yes."
"Dene — "
"I know. I will get out if I can, and if I cannot, you are not to delay the bombardment for me. I mean that, Tura. The moment Ma'a is extracted and the stasis victims are recovered, you commit the strike. My life is not worth leaving that thing alive down there."
"And your wife?" Taftican asked, her voice quieter.
Dene was silent for a long beat. "Aurielle understands her orders. She will not be in the tomb with me. She knows what I'm going in to do, and she knows what the alternative is if I don't."
"Does she accept it?"
"She is a Jedi, Tura. She accepts what the Force asks of her. That doesn't mean she's happy about it. It doesn't mean I'm happy about it either." A faint, tired smile. "We've had the conversation. More than once. If you are waiting for me to tell you that she is at peace with the possibility of not seeing me again, you will be waiting a long time. But she will do her duty, and so will I."
Taftican studied him. She had known Dene Vye Cognatus for fifteen years. She had never seen him afraid before, and she was not seeing it now — what she was seeing was something worse, which was a man who had looked squarely at his own likely death and filed the observation under acceptable cost.
"I will not hold the strike for you," she said at last. "But I will not rush it either. You will have whatever window the tactical situation permits."
"That's all I ask."
Aurielle Stratus sealed the last clasp on her robes and tried not to think about the fact that her hands were steady. They shouldn't have been. She thought that was probably worse than if they had been shaking.
She was a Jedi Knight. She had been for a year and a half now, which was still new enough that the rank felt like a borrowed coat. Her knighthood had come three months before her wedding, which meant she had spent most of her married life so far as a Knight and very little of it as a padawan — she kept catching herself expecting Dene to correct her form during lightsaber drills, and having to remind herself that he was her husband now, not her master, and husbands did not generally correct one's form mid-kata. Or so she was given to understand. She had not been a wife long enough to be sure.
Her adoptive father ruled the Imperial Republic. Her aunt Ashlee was somewhere in the outer formation aboard the Scarlet Angel, refusing — as Ashlee always refused — to stay at a safe distance from anything that mattered. And Aurielle herself had been pulled from a quiet teaching rotation six days ago and told she was being deployed to Korriban because Dene needed a second Force-user and the Jedi Council had agreed that a married Jedi pair could operate cohesively in a saturated dark side environment where a stranger might break formation.
She was reasonably sure the Council had used the word "cohesively" to mean "you won't panic if you can feel him nearby." She was trying not to take offense at that. It was probably true.
She thought briefly of her biological parents — Daniella Organa-Jackson and Admiral Eric Jackson, both dead, both buried on Alderaan's memorial world. They had been soldiers in their own ways, and they had died as soldiers. Whatever she did today, she intended to do it as something they would have recognized.
"Stop spiraling," Dene's voice said quietly behind her.
She turned. Her husband was already geared — Jedi robes beneath a soldier's utility vest, his lightsaber clipped to his belt, a second saber she didn't recognize clipped beside it. He looked calm. He always looked calm. It was one of the first things about him that had annoyed her, back when she had been his padawan, and one of the first things that had eventually made her love him.
"I'm not spiraling," she said. "I'm being still. They're different."
"They are different. You are spiraling while holding still. It is a particular skill of yours. I have pointed it out before."
"You have."
"Several times."
"I'm aware."
He stepped closer and lowered his voice so the marines loading into the drop shuttles couldn't hear. "Listen to me, Aurielle. You are not going into the tomb. You are staying with the extraction teams in the outer complex. Your job is to sense — not to fight. You're looking for three things: stasis victims we can still save, hidden cultists who may be preparing to ambush the marines, and any dark side residue that indicates a trap. Is that clear?"
"Yes."
"You will not pursue enemies on your own. You will not engage any Force-user you encounter — you will fall back to the nearest marine squad and call for me. If I tell you to evacuate, you evacuate. No arguments. No heroics. Do you understand?"
"Yes." She held his eyes. "And you will try to come back."
"I will try."
"Try harder than you usually do."
"Aurielle — "
"Don't." Her voice was soft but unmoving. "Don't tell me what this is. I know what this is. I know what you told Tura. I was standing outside the door and I didn't need the Force to hear the silence when she asked you about me. But I am not going to pretend I don't want you back. I am going to do my job, and you are going to do yours, and if the Force decides otherwise then the Force decides otherwise — but you will not ask me to walk you to that shuttle like I'm seeing you off to a meeting. Are we clear?"
Dene was silent for a long moment. Then he reached up and touched her cheek, just briefly, the kind of gesture that would have gotten him disciplined in front of the Council a generation ago and that the modern Order had decided to be quietly practical about.
"Clear," he said.
"Good."
"For what it's worth — "
"I know."
He almost smiled at that. Then, more lightly: "Jim doesn't know you're down here."
"I told him I was on a teaching rotation at Ossus."
"Aurielle."
"Dene."
"You lied to the High Prince."
"I strategically omitted information from the High Prince. There's a difference. A small one. Maybe." She gave him the ghost of her own smile. "I learned it from my husband."
"Touché." He tipped his head toward the shuttle. "Come on. We have work to do."
Kai'Len's team had been pulled off Almania three days ago, given forty-eight hours to rest and rearm, and thrown onto a Korriban-bound transport with the ink barely dry on their new orders. Mij was with them — officially now a contractor attached to the Imperial Republic Special Forces command, unofficially still the same disreputable Mandalorian he'd always been. Lieutenant Cotar had stayed behind on Almania to help stabilize the civilian administration, which Kai'Len privately thought was the right call. Korriban was not a place for a police lieutenant who'd been a beat cop three weeks ago.
He ran his team through the final briefing as the shuttle rattled into its atmospheric descent.
"Objectives, in order. One — extract Etago Ma'a alive. He's the only human being on that rock we actually want standing at the end of this. Two — rescue any stasis victims we can reach. Three — demolitions on every secondary structure we pass, because General Cognatus wants the complex opened up for orbital fire. Four — survive. That one's optional but strongly encouraged."
A ripple of grim laughter from the squad. Sergeant Thorne checked his thermal charges one more time.
"Rules of engagement," Kai'Len continued. "Anyone in Albatross colors, anyone in Sith robes, anyone with a lightsaber — shoot on sight. Do not attempt to capture. Do not attempt to negotiate. If they go down and stay down, keep moving. If they go down and get back up, shoot them again. General Cognatus and Knight Stratus are the only friendlies with lightsabers. Remember that. The Knight is the General's wife, if anyone was wondering why the two of them came as a package."
A murmur of acknowledgment. Sergeant Thorne muttered something that sounded like of course she's a Stratus.
"Captain," Private Dast asked carefully, "what about Skere Kaan?"
"Skere Kaan is not your target. Skere Kaan is the General's target. If you see him, you run the other way and you radio it in. Clear?"
"Clear, sir."
Mij's voice came over the squad channel, helmet sealed. "Vode, one more thing. If things go bad and the order comes down to pull back to the extraction point, you run. You do not stop for the General. You do not stop for the Knight. You do not stop for anyone. The fleet is going to hit this valley with everything it has, and the window's going to be tight. Understood?"
A chorus of acknowledgments.
The shuttle's tone changed as it leveled off. "One minute to LZ," the pilot called back.
Kai'Len pulled his helmet on and keyed his private channel to Mij. "You think the General's coming back up?"
"No," Mij said flatly. "But I've been wrong before."
"And the Knight?"
"Her? Yes. She's a Stratus. They're stubborn about living." A pause. "Mostly."
Ashlee stood at the observation port of the Scarlet Angel with her arms folded, watching the drop shuttles peel off toward Korriban's surface in neat wedges. Travis stood beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched, saying nothing — mostly because he knew better than to say anything right now.
She had argued her way onto this deployment. Taftican had refused. Kelly had refused. Her brother, when she'd finally gotten him on a secure line, had refused in language that had not been fit for a royal conversation. Then she had argued some more. Then she had pointed out — to Jim, specifically, and loudly — that Dr. Thale had been her friend, that the Explorers had been her expedition, and that if anyone on this rock deserved to be in the room when the Imperial Republic finally closed the book on Skere Kaan, it was her. And in the end, she had come anyway.
Not to the surface. Even she had grudgingly conceded that going planetside on Korriban was beyond stupid. She was many things, but she was not suicidal, and she had a good enough eye for a bad expedition to know what one looked like. But the orbital element? The fleet? The room where the firing orders would be given? Yes. That, she had won.
"You're brooding," Travis said eventually.
"I am not brooding. I'm watching."
"You're watching and brooding. It's a talent."
She elbowed him without heat, still staring out the viewport. The lead shuttle was a bright pinprick descending through Korriban's thin atmosphere. Somewhere aboard that shuttle, or one of the ones behind it, was a Jedi General who had almost certainly just gone to his death — and, for Ashlee, not just any Jedi General. Dene had been her niece's husband for a year and a half now. She had danced at his wedding. She had teased Auri through three different dress fittings. Dene was family in a way that wasn't blood, and Jim's adopted daughter was family in a way that wasn't either, and Ashlee had long since stopped caring about the distinction.
"Travis."
"Hm."
"Dene isn't coming back, is he."
Travis was quiet for a moment. He had been a Commodore long enough to recognize a rhetorical question, and long enough to know when his wife wasn't actually asking.
"Probably not," he said.
"I like him. He's funny. Dry. He has this way of pretending he isn't paying attention when he's absolutely paying attention." She exhaled. "Auri's going to be a widow before she's much older. And Jim is going to lose a son-in-law who was also one of the few people in uniform he actually trusted."
Travis winced, because that was the part that wasn't rhetorical.
"Auri's down there too, isn't she," he said.
"Don't tell Jim."
"I would sooner eat my own boots than tell your brother."
"She told him she was on a teaching rotation at Ossus."
"Stars." Travis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your niece lied to the Supreme Ruler of the Imperial Republic. Who is also her father."
"Strategically omitted. There's a difference. A small one. Maybe."
That got half a smile out of her. It didn't last. She went back to watching the shuttles.
She was not political. She had never been political. She had left the politics to Jim and Marc, because Jim was good at it and Marc endured it, and she herself had always preferred engines and star charts and the kind of questions you could answer by going somewhere and looking. Which, she was well aware, was precisely how she had gotten Dr. Thale and ten other people killed — by asking a question about some interesting gems on a nothing world in the Outer Rim, and sending good people to answer it.
She was not going to apologize for asking the question. The Imperial Republic could not be a galaxy where the wrong piece of curiosity got your friends murdered and that was just how things were. But the answer to the question had turned out to be a four-thousand-year-old Sith Lord in a tomb on Korriban, and that was something you did not find out about and then go back to your ship and have dinner. That was something you stayed for.
"I want to be here when it's over," she said, more to herself than to Travis. "I want to see the valley go dark on the plot. I want to know it's done."
"You'll see it."
"Good." She uncrossed her arms and rolled her shoulders, a small stubborn shake that Travis had learned years ago to recognize as Ashlee deciding something. "And then I want to know what was in the gems. The real answer. Not the sanitized version for the Senate. The actual answer."
Travis looked at her sideways. "You're already planning the next expedition."
"I'm thinking about the next expedition. There's a difference. A small one. Maybe."
On the tactical plot, the first drop shuttles touched down in the red dust of the Valley of the Dark Lords.
The ramp of the lead shuttle hissed open and Dene stepped out into the valley. The wind was dry and hot, and it carried the smell of old stone and something else — something underneath the stone, like a room that had been sealed too long.
Aurielle stepped down beside him and immediately staggered.
"Dene — "
"Breathe. Through it, not against it." He placed his hand at the small of her back, steadying her. "Find the Light. Hold onto it. Do not let this place tell you what you are."
She closed her eyes. After a long moment, her breathing evened.
"Better?"
"Better." She opened her eyes. They were bright again. "It's — Dene, it's everywhere."
"I know. We're going to do our jobs anyway."
The marine elements were already fanning out in tactical formation, moving toward the outer entrances of the tomb complex. Kai'Len's team had taken point on the primary breach — a massive set of stone doors carved with reliefs that Dene deliberately did not look at too closely. Secondary teams were moving toward the ancillary structures where the stasis chambers had been identified.
"Knight Stratus, you're with Sergeant Thorne's element," Dene said, loud enough for the marines to hear — switching to titles in front of the troops out of long habit, and because Aurielle had always preferred it that way on an operation. "Help them find the living. I'll take the primary breach."
"Yes, General." She hesitated. "Be careful."
"I'm always careful."
"You're never careful. That's why I said it."
He actually laughed at that — a short, surprised sound that felt strangely out of place in the valley. Then he drew his primary lightsaber, did not ignite it, and turned toward the great stone doors.
Captain Ciunus was waiting for him at the breach point, helmet under his arm. "General. We'll cover your approach as deep as we can, but the intel from Korvain's maps puts the inner sanctum about a kilometer and a half down. We can get you to the gate of the lower complex. After that — "
"After that, I go alone. Understood, Captain."
Kai'Len nodded. "Good hunting, sir."
"Good hunting, Captain. Extract Ma'a. Get your people out. Don't wait for me."
He stepped through the breach.
The darkness swallowed him.
"General Cognatus has entered the primary breach," the tactical officer reported. "Knight Stratus is with the secondary extraction team. Captain Ciunus reports the General proceeding alone into the lower complex per plan."
"Confirm orbital firing solution."
"Firing solution confirmed, Admiral. Prometheus, Scarlet Angel, Determinate, and Vengeance all have primary turbolaser batteries locked on the valley. Secondary batteries targeted on the support installations. Orbital bombardment protocol Tannhauser-Three is loaded and standing by."
"Hold fire until extraction is confirmed complete. I want Ma'a off that rock, I want the stasis victims off that rock, and I want as many of our people clear as possible before we fire."
"Aye, Admiral."
Taftican stood very still, watching the plot. In the lower right of the display, a single blue icon — COGNATUS, D.V. — was descending alone into the red mass of the tomb complex.
She turned to her flag captain.
"Prepare the fleet for close-orbit bombardment. When the word comes, I do not want a single second of hesitation on any gun in this formation. Am I clear?"
"Crystal clear, Admiral."
"Then we wait."
End of Chapter 27
The air was colder than it should have been.
Dene had read enough after-action reports on dark-side saturation to know that the cold was psychological — the ambient temperature in a sealed tomb complex did not, in point of physical fact, drop because something evil lived at the bottom of it. But the Force had its own physics, and the Force insisted, as he passed through the gate of the lower complex and the marines fell behind him in silence, that it was cold.
He did not ignite his lightsabers. Light would only give Skere Kaan something to aim at, and Dene did not need light — the dark side presence below him was a beacon of its own kind, a wound in the Force that pulsed like a slow heart. He walked toward it.
The corridor was carved directly into the rock of the valley, its walls lined with low reliefs that he deliberately did not look at too closely. Some of them moved. That was not physically possible. He kept walking.
He had fought Sith before. Most of them had been young, undisciplined, drunk on power that the dark side had lent them on credit — inheritors of a tradition they did not fully understand. The Sith he had fought aboard HMS Vigilant at Rhen Var had been older, stronger, more dangerous. That one had nearly killed him. He still had the scar across his ribs from the duel, a pale line he pretended not to think about when Aurielle traced it with her thumb at night.
Skere Kaan was none of those.
Dene could feel him the moment he passed the first turning of the descending corridor. Not as a person, not yet — as a weight. The Sith Lord had been feeding the wound in this planet for forty years, and the wound had fed him back, and the two of them were now one thing, and that thing was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.
Dene took a long, slow breath. He released his fear into the Force. Then he released his grief, which was larger — grief for the life he would likely not return to, for the wife who would stand alone in the hangar bay of the Prometheus when the fleet pulled back, for the daughters he and Aurielle had never quite managed to have time for. He released his anger last, because anger was the easiest to let go of and also the last thing the Force would want him carrying into what was coming.
What was left, when he reached the bottom of the stairs and the final chamber opened before him, was a calm as cold and clear as the air.
Good, he thought. That's enough.
He stepped into the chamber.
Skere Kaan was seated.
That was Dene's first surprise — the Sith Lord was not standing in some dramatic posture, was not levitating, was not wreathed in crackling darkness. He was seated on a low stone bench at the far end of the chamber, robed in black, his hood drawn back to reveal a face that was not quite human and not quite anything else. Ageless. Bloodless. His eyes, when he raised them, were a pale yellow that had lost all reference to the warmth of the color.
"Jedi," he said. His voice was quiet. It did not echo in the chamber; the chamber did not want it to.
"Skere Kaan."
"You know my name."
"Your collaborator told us."
"Korvain." The word was tasted, not spoken. "He was never particularly brave. I kept him because he was useful, not because he was worthy. You will find that most of my instruments are like that. The galaxy has grown thin."
Dene did not answer. He was measuring the chamber — the stone seats arrayed in a half-circle around the bench, the altar at the chamber's center that he refused to examine too closely, the three exits behind Skere Kaan that led further into the complex. The Sith Lord had not risen. He had not drawn a weapon. He was looking at Dene with something that, in a living man, might have been curiosity.
"You came alone," Skere Kaan observed.
"Yes."
"Your admiral would have preferred otherwise."
"She would have preferred to bury this chamber from orbit without anyone in it. I talked her out of it."
"Why?"
"Because you have a transfer ritual loaded. If we dropped the mountain on you while the ritual was primed, it might have worked. I need to make sure it doesn't."
Skere Kaan was silent for a long moment. Then, very softly, he laughed. It was the most disturbing sound Dene had ever heard — not because it was loud, but because it was not. It was the laugh of a man who had not needed to laugh in a very long time and had forgotten how.
"You understand more than I expected," Skere Kaan said. "Tell me, Jedi — what was your name?"
"Dene Vye Cognatus, General of the Imperial Republic, Marshal of the Jedi Order."
"A soldier and a priest. The old combination. They used to make the best of us, in the Order before yours."
"I'm aware of the history."
"Are you aware that you will not survive this room?"
"I suspect I will not. That doesn't change what I came to do."
Skere Kaan rose. It was not dramatic. He simply stood, and his robes settled around him, and the weight in the chamber redoubled. Dene felt his knees want to bend. He did not let them.
"Then," said the Sith Lord, "let us be about it."
Kai'Len's squad had been in the Valley of the Dark Lords for forty-two minutes, and he was already down three marines.
Not dead. Not yet. Two concussions and a bad slash across the forearm from something Private Dast had identified, breathlessly, as a lightsaber held by a guy who was probably eight feet tall and may have been on fire. Dast had then taken the lightsaber user down with a concentrated volley from the rest of the fireteam, because whatever the cultists had been, they had not been more than bullet-resistant, and Imperial Republic marines trained on the premise that enough precision fire made most theological questions irrelevant.
But they were slowing down. The deeper they pushed into the tomb complex, the more resistance they met, and the resistance was not the dying, degrading enhanced Albatross they had faced on Almania. This was fresher. These cultists had been here a long time, they had been made here, and they were defending their home.
"Blackstar Actual to all elements," Kai'Len called over the squad channel. "Push objective. We need Ma'a and we need him now. Thorne, status on stasis recovery?"
"Clean so far, Captain," Sergeant Thorne's voice came back. "Knight Stratus is with us. She's — " a pause "— she is earning her keep, sir."
"Copy. Keep her moving. Mij, where's our primary?"
Mij's voice crackled back from somewhere ahead. "Found Ma'a, vode. Administrative complex, second level. He's with four loyal Albatross and — you're going to love this — he's trying to negotiate."
"Negotiate what?"
"His surrender. To you, specifically. He says he's been waiting for an Imperial officer of appropriate rank to formalize it."
Kai'Len laughed once, sharply. "He's what?"
"He says — and I quote — 'tell Captain Ciunus that I am prepared to offer my cooperation in exchange for guarantees regarding due process.' I think he's still trying to play politics, Kai."
"Of course he is." Kai'Len shook his head inside his helmet. "Bring him out. Restraints. No guarantees. If he resists, stun him. If his guards resist, you know what to do."
"Understood. Moving."
Kai'Len pushed forward with his fireteam, stepping over the bodies of two cultists that had been down before his squad arrived. Someone had gotten here first. He checked the kills — close-range blaster fire, clean, professional.
"Mij," he said. "Did you take out the two in Corridor Gamma?"
"Negative. That wasn't us."
"Then who — "
The answer came around the next corner in the form of a young woman in Jedi robes, lightsaber in her off-hand, a spare blaster pistol in her primary. Aurielle Stratus stopped when she saw him, nodded once, and gestured back over her shoulder.
"Two more up the side passage," she said. "I wasn't sure you'd push through here, so I left them for you in case you needed to confirm route clearance. Sorry about the cleanup."
Kai'Len stared at her for a beat. "Knight Stratus, weren't you supposed to be at the stasis chambers?"
"I was. Thorne has them stable. I cleared back toward Gamma when I felt two cultists setting up an ambush on your squad's approach vector. I engaged. They were not prepared to engage a Jedi." She paused. "My husband told me not to pursue Force-users alone. These were not Force-users. They were just exceptionally unpleasant people with bad opinions."
"Fair distinction. Thanks for the save, Knight."
"Any time. Where's Ma'a?"
"Mij is extracting now."
"Good. I'll head back to Thorne. We have twenty-three viable stasis victims and four more we can probably save if we move fast." She hesitated. "Anything on my husband?"
"No report from the lower complex."
"Understood." She nodded crisply and turned back down the corridor she had come from, moving with the economy of someone who had been trained well and was currently operating on reserves she did not want to examine too closely.
Kai'Len watched her go for two seconds. Then he keyed his command channel.
"Blackstar Actual to Prometheus Actual. Knight Stratus confirms twenty-three recoverable in the stasis chambers, four critical. Ma'a in custody imminent. No contact from General Cognatus."
"Copy, Blackstar," Taftican's voice came back, level and flat. "Extract on schedule. Do not delay for the General."
"Understood, Prometheus. Blackstar out."
Kai'Len took a breath. Then he moved forward to help Mij drag a planetary leader out of his own tomb.
The stasis chambers were worse than the combat.
The combat had been simple — the cultists had wanted her dead, she had not wanted to be dead, and the question had been resolved in favor of her preference. Aurielle could process that. She had trained for it. Her hands had not shaken even once, which, she thought grimly, was probably something she would need to meditate on at some length after this was over.
But the stasis chambers — the stasis chambers were not simple. The stasis chambers were rows and rows of upright transparisteel cylinders, and inside each cylinder was a living person in suspended animation, and each of those people had been in that cylinder for a long time. Some of them had Imperial Republic uniforms. Some wore the plain clothes of civilians taken decades ago. Some were in robes that looked neither Imperial nor Almanian — third parties, scholars, explorers. All of them had the same look on their faces, which was the look of someone who had been frozen mid-scream.
Sergeant Thorne was working methodically along the row, tagging each chamber with a medical priority code, while the extraction team prepped the transport carts.
"Knight," he said as Aurielle returned. "Priority assignment — we've got four in critical. Their stasis fields are decaying. If we don't get them out in the next twelve minutes, we're going to lose them."
"Can we move the chambers?"
"Negative. They're wired into the facility. We have to extract the occupants."
"Do it. I'll provide Force support if anyone's neural pathways are damaged."
Thorne nodded and called his medics forward. Aurielle knelt beside the first critical chamber and laid her hand against the transparisteel. The man inside was, or had been, middle-aged, dark-haired, wearing the remnants of an Imperial Republic Navy uniform from — she checked the rank insignia — at least fifteen years ago, maybe twenty.
She closed her eyes and reached through the Force.
He was still there. Faintly. Barely. He had been in here so long that what remained of him was almost more memory than man, but the thread of his presence had not been severed. Something in him had held on. She anchored to that thread and began, very gently, to coax it back toward the light.
"Opening chamber," the medic said.
The transparisteel hissed open. The man slumped forward. Aurielle caught him through the Force before Thorne caught him physically, steadying his body while the medic got a line into his neck.
"He's alive," the medic breathed. "Stars, he's alive. Admiral, sir — "
"Keep working," Aurielle said softly. "I have him. He's tethered. Next one."
They moved down the row. Three of the four critical cases made it. The fourth did not — her stasis field had degraded too far, and when they opened the chamber the thread of her presence snapped before Aurielle could catch it. She was an older woman, possibly fifty, wearing an Imperial Republic Medical Corps uniform that the galactic catalog probably still listed as missing in action, presumed killed. Aurielle closed the woman's eyes with her own hand, because it did not feel right to let a machine do it.
"I'm sorry," she said, to no one.
"Knight," Thorne said gently, from a respectful distance. "We need to move."
"I know. One moment."
She placed her hand on the woman's forehead and, briefly, sent what she could through the Force — not healing, there was nothing left to heal, but acknowledgment. The woman had been taken. The woman had been held here for thirty or forty years. The woman had not been forgotten, even if she had not been known. The Imperial Republic had come, finally, and it had come because other people had been taken too, and because a princess had asked a question. She was known now. Aurielle's tears, when they came, were small and brief and she did not apologize for them.
Then she rose, wiped her face, and kept working.
"Ma'a extracted," the tactical officer reported. "Captain Ciunus confirms prisoner in Imperial custody and en route to orbit aboard Blackstar-2. Estimated time to rendezvous, eight minutes."
"Stasis victims?"
"Twenty-two survivors recovered. One loss. All survivors en route aboard medical shuttles."
"Knight Stratus?"
"Aboard the medical shuttle, Admiral. She insisted on accompanying the critical cases."
"Of course she did." Taftican did not smile. She did not allow herself to. "General Cognatus?"
A pause.
"No contact, Admiral. His beacon is still active but he is not responding to hails. The marines at the gate of the lower complex report continuous dark-side energy disturbances consistent with active engagement."
"How long has he been in there?"
"Forty-six minutes, Admiral."
"How much longer before we have to fire?"
The tactical officer hesitated. "The last marine squad will clear the outer perimeter in approximately six minutes. After that, any delay increases the risk that surviving cultists consolidate and mount a counterattack, or that the transfer ritual — "
"I know what the risks are, Commander." Taftican's voice was very quiet. "I'm asking for the tactical window."
"Nine minutes, Admiral. After that, we fire regardless."
"Nine minutes." Taftican stared at the plot. The single blue icon that was Dene Vye Cognatus was still blinking steadily in the lower chamber. It had not moved in nineteen minutes.
Princess Ashlee and Commodore Gourdine had come aboard the Prometheus twenty minutes earlier, at Taftican's request. If the admiral was going to give the order to fire while a Jedi Marshal was still alive underneath the target, she had wanted a member of the royal family physically present on the bridge, because some decisions required a witness of rank. Ashlee was standing now at the rear of the flag bridge, arms folded, watching. Travis was beside her. Neither of them had spoken since arriving.
"Admiral," the flag captain said quietly. "Seven minutes."
Taftican nodded.
"Open the channel to General Cognatus one more time."
"Opening channel, Admiral. General, this is Prometheus Actual. Please respond."
Static.
"General Cognatus, this is Grand Admiral Taftican. Respond if able."
Static.
"General Cognatus — "
And then, through the static, a single rough voice:
"Go."
That was all. One word. Dene Vye Cognatus's voice, ragged, distant, but recognizable.
Taftican closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. When she opened them, her face was expressionless.
"All ships," she said. "All batteries. Full orbital bombardment on the Valley of the Dark Lords. Tannhauser-Three, commit. Fire."
She felt it before the shuttle's sensors registered it.
She felt it in the Force first — an enormous, sudden, purifying release, like a long-held breath finally let go. And then, half a second later, the shuttle's viewport flared white as the orbital strikes hit. She saw it reflected in the unconscious face of the Imperial Navy lieutenant she was still monitoring, the man she had pulled back from twenty years of stasis: his face washed briefly in bright silver light.
The dark side weight that had been pressing against her chest since she had stepped off the drop shuttle lifted. Not entirely. But by two-thirds, all at once.
It meant Skere Kaan was dead, or at least that his focus on the chamber had collapsed.
It also meant Dene was almost certainly dead.
She did not cry. She had cried over the medical corps woman because that had been the moment for it, and she had used the moment, and the moment was past. Now she had twenty-two living people to get to the Prometheus's medical bay, and there would be time later for whatever came later. She was a Jedi. She was a Stratus. She was also a wife, and the wife part of her was currently filed in a drawer she would open when there was time to open drawers.
"Knight Stratus," the shuttle pilot said, his voice carefully controlled. "I'm sorry, but I'm showing — the plot just went red over the valley. Fleet's firing."
"I know."
"I just — I didn't know if — "
"Keep flying, pilot. We have people to save."
"Yes, ma'am."
She kept her hand on the lieutenant's wrist, steady, feeling the thread of him re-establishing itself slowly in the Force. He would live, she thought. Most of them would live. That was the point of coming.
Her hand did not shake. That was probably something she would need to meditate on at some length, when there was time.
The Valley of the Dark Lords ceased to exist in geological terms over approximately four minutes.
The initial turbolaser salvo from all four primary ships breached the surface of the tomb complex and dumped enough energy into the mountain above it to liquefy the upper twenty meters of rock. The secondary salvo, staggered by eight seconds, penetrated through the molten crater and delivered the bulk of its force directly into the lower chambers. The tertiary salvo, fired by the Scarlet Angel and Determinate at a slight offset angle, collapsed the surrounding ridgelines into the crater to seal the complex. The Prometheus's final contribution was a precision strike on each of the three secondary support installations Cognatus had identified, each struck with enough force to ensure that nothing beneath them would remain standing either.
By the time the fleet ceased fire, the valley was a glowing red bowl of slag, and Korriban had, briefly, a new and very small artificial lake of liquefied rock.
Taftican watched the plot without expression.
"Damage assessment?" she asked.
"Complete, Admiral. No structures intact. No life signs in the strike zone. We'll need thermal and gravimetric scans to confirm the subsurface chambers are collapsed, but preliminary readings suggest total destruction."
"Run them. I want certainty."
"Aye, Admiral."
"General Cognatus?"
The tactical officer's voice was very, very careful. "His beacon ceased transmission approximately eleven seconds before the primary salvo. I — I can't confirm whether that was because the beacon was destroyed or because — "
"Understood, Commander."
Ashlee, from the rear of the bridge, made a small sound that was not quite a word.
Taftican turned and looked at her. "Your Highness. I am sorry."
"Don't be." Ashlee's voice was steady. It took effort; Taftican could see the effort. "He knew. Auri knew. I knew. We all knew. It is not a surprise and it is not a failure. It is what he went in to do."
"He went in to give us the chance. He gave it to us."
"Yes."
Taftican nodded once, and turned back to the plot.
"Run the scans," she said. "All scans. I want every band, every resolution, every wavelength. I want to be certain."
"Aye, Admiral."
Behind her, very quietly, Princess Ashlee said, "Someone should tell my niece."
"I'll do it personally, Your Highness."
"No." Ashlee's voice was soft but firm. "I'll do it. She's my family. She should hear it from family."
Taftican did not argue.
He was not entirely sure whether he was alive.
The last thing he clearly remembered was the final exchange with Skere Kaan, when the Sith Lord had raised both hands and the chamber had folded — not collapsed, folded, as though space itself had declined to cooperate for a moment — and Dene had responded with a technique he had only ever seen performed once, by a Master who had died on Ossus forty years ago, and which he had not been entirely sure he remembered correctly.
It had worked well enough. Skere Kaan had not been prepared for it. The Sith Lord's concentration had broken, and in the instant before the ritual could reassemble, Dene had — he was not entirely sure what he had done. He had reached for the Force in a way he had not reached in fifteen years, and the Force had answered, and Skere Kaan had screamed, and then there had been a sound that was not a sound, and then —
Then there had been the comm crackling in his ear, and Taftican's voice asking him to respond, and he had managed the word go, and then he had done the only thing left to do, which was to find the nearest escape shaft Korvain's maps had marked and run.
He had made it approximately two-thirds of the way up before the orbital strikes hit. The concussion had thrown him the last thirty meters, through a secondary vent, and out onto the red sand of a collateral ridge three kilometers from the impact zone. He had lost his primary lightsaber somewhere in the fall. He thought he had cracked at least two ribs. His left leg was not responding correctly. The second lightsaber — Aurielle's spare, the one he had borrowed without telling her and which she was going to be furious about when she found out — was still clipped to his belt, which was something.
Above him, the sky was the red-brown of Korriban's daytime, streaked with the slowly dispersing plasma contrails of capital-ship turbolaser fire.
He lay on his back in the sand for a long moment, breathing.
Then he reached for his comm.
"...this is Cognatus," he rasped. "I require extraction. I am approximately three clicks northeast of the primary impact zone. I am... functional. Barely. Please tell my wife I am going to need a significant apology present."
There was a stunned silence on the channel.
Then a voice that was not Taftican's, that was in fact Mij's, came back very carefully: "Ner vod, are you seriously not dead?"
"I am seriously not dead. I would like not to become dead in the next several minutes, however, so if a shuttle could be dispatched — "
"Shuttle inbound. Hold position. Do not move."
"Moving is not currently an option, so that instruction is easy to follow."
"Copy that, General." Mij's voice shifted. "And General?"
"Yes."
"Welcome back."
Dene let his head fall back against the sand and closed his eyes.
The dark side weight was gone. Almost entirely.
Almost.
Underneath the cleaner, quieter hum of a Korriban no longer actively feeding a Sith Lord's ritual, Dene could still feel something. Very faint. Very distant. Not quite a presence — not the weight of Skere Kaan himself, who had been, he was quite sure, annihilated — but an echo. Like the smell of smoke on a coat the day after a fire has gone out. Like the impression a sleeper leaves on a pillow.
It was probably nothing. Dark side residue often lingered for years on saturated worlds; Korriban had been saturated for four thousand years and was not going to scrub clean in an afternoon.
Probably nothing.
He kept his eyes closed and waited for the shuttle, and tried to believe it.
She was in the medical bay, still in her Jedi robes, still with the dust of Korriban on her boots, when the comm officer found her.
"Knight Stratus? Priority message from the surface."
"Is it about my husband?"
"It — yes, Knight, it is."
She turned slowly. Her face was composed. Her hand was not shaking. She had been told, by her aunt, by her nephew's mother — no, by her aunt and her husband's commanding admiral — twenty minutes ago that Dene was almost certainly dead, and she had accepted the almost and the certainly and had gone back to work, because there were still four critical cases in the medical bay and her Force-support was still needed. She had been planning to grieve later, when she had earned the time.
"Say it, Officer," she said.
The comm officer took a breath.
"Knight Stratus, General Cognatus is alive. He is requesting extraction approximately three kilometers from the primary impact zone. He reports he is — his exact words — 'functional, barely,' and that he will require a significant apology present for you."
Aurielle stared at him for a very long moment.
"A what?"
"An apology present, ma'am. He was quite specific."
She turned her face toward the nearest bulkhead and laughed. It was a sound that startled several of the medical staff, because they had last heard it when she arrived, and they had not expected to hear it again for some time.
"Tell him," she said, when she had control of her voice again, "that the present had better be extremely significant, and that he is to stay exactly where he is, and that if he dies before the shuttle arrives I will personally chase him into the Force and give him an extremely thorough piece of my mind."
"I'll — I'll relay that, ma'am."
"Thank you." She wiped her eyes, which had suddenly decided to have tears in them after all. "And Officer?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Tell the Grand Admiral."
"She already knows, ma'am. She asked me to ask you whether you wanted to be on the extraction shuttle."
"What do you think?" Aurielle said, already moving toward the door.
Ashlee was still on the bridge when Taftican's comm chimed with the update. The Grand Admiral listened for approximately eight seconds, her face not changing. Then she turned to Ashlee.
"Your Highness," Taftican said, with what was, for her, the closest approximation of a smile she ever produced. "Before you contact your niece — you should know that General Cognatus is alive."
Ashlee stared at her.
"He is what?"
"Alive. Injured. Requesting extraction. Asking his wife for an apology present."
Ashlee's face went through a complicated series of expressions. The final one settled into a half-laugh, half-scowl that Travis had seen approximately six hundred times in his marriage, and which he recognized as his wife's specific response to being deprived of a grief she had been preparing for.
"That man," she said. "I was going to tell her. I was going to tell her. I had the speech ready."
"I'm sorry to deprive you of the speech, Your Highness."
"No, you are not. And I am not sorry either, to be clear." She pressed her hand to her forehead. "Gods. Jim is going to hear about this within the hour and he is going to have all of our heads. Auri, Dene, me — all three of us. The Council is going to have all our heads. There will be a meeting."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Fine. Fine. Good." Ashlee took a breath. "Admiral, I withdraw my request to notify Auri personally. Let her go to the shuttle. She's earned it."
"Already done, Your Highness."
"Good." Ashlee looked at Travis. Travis looked back. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Then Ashlee said, quietly, "Dr. Thale is still dead."
"Yes," Travis said. "But the twenty-two in the medbay are alive. And the one in the bag is going home to be buried properly, with her name. That's what we came for."
"Yes." She turned back to the viewport. "Yes, it was."
On the plot, the Valley of the Dark Lords was a slowly cooling red smear. The fleet was reorienting for post-action scans. A single shuttle was breaking atmosphere from the Prometheus, carrying a Jedi Knight who, at that particular moment, was not allowing herself to believe her husband was alive until she had touched him personally and confirmed it with her own hands.
"Commodore," Ashlee said, without turning around.
"Hm?"
"Remind me. What were the gems made of?"
"Ashlee."
"I'm asking. It's been a long day and I want to know what I started this war over."
"You started this war because people murdered your friends."
"Yes, but after that. The actual answer. What were they?"
Travis sighed, because he had been married long enough to know when his wife was already planning an expedition.
"Ashlee, you are incorrigible."
"I am curious. There is a difference. A small one."
"Maybe."
"Maybe."
On the plot, Korriban cooled.
End of Chapter 28
Nine days after the fleet reduced the Valley of the Dark Lords to a cooling pool of slag, High Prince James T. Stratus II sat alone in his private study, reading the final operational report from Korriban.
He had read it three times now. He was on his fourth.
The first reading had been the briefing pass — facts, casualties, outcomes. The second had been the political pass, considering how each element would play before the Senate, before the Jedi Council, before the allied governments already demanding explanations for the largest single military operation in the Imperial Republic's history. The third had been the personal pass, during which he had sat with the fact that his adopted daughter had been planetside on Korriban without his knowledge for approximately the entire time the fleet had been in the system, and that she had engaged at least two Sith cultists in direct combat, and that her husband had very nearly died, and that his sister Ashlee had been on the Scarlet Angel and then the Prometheus's flag bridge in a position to physically witness her niece's husband's likely final transmission.
The third reading had not been pleasant.
He was on the fourth reading now because he had not yet decided what to do about it.
The chime of his comm cut through his thoughts.
"Yes."
"Your Majesty, Grand Admiral Taftican and General Cognatus are here for their scheduled debrief."
James set the report down.
"Send them in."
Dene Vye Cognatus walked into the Supreme Ruler's study on his own two feet, which the medical staff of the Prometheus had predicted would not be possible for at least another two weeks. He was leaning on a cane, his left leg still not cooperating, and there was a visible brace under the sleeve of his dress uniform where his right wrist had been reset. He looked tired in the specific way a Jedi looked tired after prolonged exposure to dark side saturation — not physically exhausted, but thin, like a page that had been written on too many times and not allowed to dry between drafts.
Taftican walked in beside him. Her hair was still pulled back, her uniform was still pressed, her expression was still unreadable. If she was relieved to be back on Coruscant, she had declined to allow anyone, including herself, to notice.
"Your Majesty," they said, in rough unison.
"Sit down, both of you. Dene, for the love of the Force, sit down."
Dene lowered himself into the offered chair with careful, deliberate movements. "Your Majesty. Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. I'm deciding which of several available forms of displeasure to express first." James folded his hands on the desk. "We'll start with the tactical and work our way to the personal. Tura, your report."
Taftican inclined her head. "Your Majesty. The operation achieved all primary objectives. Etago Ma'a is in Imperial custody pending arraignment before the High Judicate. Twenty-two surviving stasis victims have been recovered, identified where possible, and repatriated to next-of-kin or placed in long-term medical care. One recovered victim — Commander Isala Verith, Imperial Republic Medical Corps, officially listed MIA since 14 IRY — died during extraction; her remains have been returned to her family on Corellia for honors burial."
"Fourteen," James repeated quietly. "Twenty years."
"Yes, sir."
"Continue."
"The Valley of the Dark Lords has been reduced. Post-action scans confirm total collapse of the primary tomb complex and all three secondary support installations. Thermal, gravimetric, and subsurface sonographic readings are consistent with complete destruction. There is no structural integrity remaining in the subsurface chambers."
"And Skere Kaan?"
A brief pause.
"General," Taftican said, "you should probably take this."
Dene nodded once. "Your Majesty. Skere Kaan is dead."
"You're certain."
"As certain as I can be. I engaged him directly. The engagement ended with what I believe to be his annihilation — not merely his physical death, but the disruption of the ritual apparatus he had prepared for consciousness transfer. I was able to interrupt the ritual at the moment of transfer. Without a receptacle, the pattern of his consciousness should have discorporated into the Force."
"Should have."
Dene hesitated. "Should have, yes."
James waited.
"There is," Dene said carefully, "an echo."
"Define echo."
"A residue. Very faint. Very distant. Not a presence — I would recognize a presence, and this is not that. It is more like an impression. A suggestion of pattern without substance. I felt it when I was lying on the ridge waiting for extraction. I felt it again aboard the Prometheus when I was recovering in the medical bay. Aurielle has felt it as well."
"You think he survived the transfer."
"I think it is possible he achieved partial transfer before I disrupted the ritual. I think it is also possible that what I am sensing is simply dark side residue left behind by four thousand years of Sith activity on Korriban, amplified by Skere Kaan's personal operations over the last forty. I think it is also possible — the most likely possibility, if I am being honest — that what I am sensing is my own exposure to concentrated dark side energy, still clearing from my perception like smoke from a lung. I have had to reinterpret my senses gradually as my own contamination receded."
"But you are not certain."
"Your Majesty, in matters of the Force there is rarely certainty. I am reporting what I am experiencing, with full acknowledgment that my perception may be unreliable. The Jedi Council has convened a formal working group to evaluate the echo. They have been given full access to the operational data and to my own notes."
James was silent for a long moment.
"Tura," he said at last. "Your recommendation."
Taftican did not hesitate. "Classify the echo, Your Majesty. Not as a threat — we have no evidence it is a threat. But as an open file. The sensors, the Jedi, and KSIC should maintain standing monitoring protocols on Korriban indefinitely. If the echo changes — if it grows, moves, or manifests — we will know early. If it is simply residue, as General Cognatus suggests is most likely, monitoring costs us nothing to confirm over time."
"Agreed." James made a note. "Dene, work with KSIC on the monitoring protocol. I want recommendations on my desk within thirty days."
"Yes, sir."
"Now." James leaned back in his chair. "The personal matter."
Dene braced himself, very slightly, in his chair.
"Your Majesty," he began, "I take full responsibility for — "
"Don't." James held up a hand. "Don't start. I have spent nine days preparing the speech I intend to give you and I am not going to be preempted. Sit there and take it."
"Yes, sir."
"You took my daughter to Korriban."
"Yes, sir."
"Without informing me."
"Yes, sir."
"You pulled rank with the Jedi Council to keep her name off the manifest."
"Yes, sir."
"You exposed her to a saturation level of dark side influence that even you, a fifteen-year Marshal and Command General with prior combat experience against ancient Sith, describe as the worst you have ever encountered."
"Yes, sir."
"You then engaged in a duel from which you did not expect to return, leaving her to process your apparent death on a medical shuttle while tending to twenty-three unconscious victims of Sith torture, one of whom died in her arms."
"Yes, sir."
"And then, having survived by what Aurielle describes as 'dumb luck and the Force's apparent sense of humor,' your first transmission on recovering your comm was to request that she be informed you required an apology present."
"Yes, sir."
James stared at him for a long moment.
"Dene," he said finally, "the only reason I am not stripping you of your commission right now is that my daughter has explicitly forbidden me to do so. She has informed me, in writing, through official channels, that if I punish you for decisions she has retroactively endorsed as a Knight of the Jedi Order, she will consider it a political attack on her autonomy as a serving Jedi and will take it up with the Council. Which she will win, because the Council is terrified of her and also because she is correct."
"Yes, sir."
"I am therefore confining my displeasure to this room and to this moment. You will not hear it again. But I want you to hear it once, clearly: you nearly killed my daughter's husband on my behalf, without my knowledge, in a duel you did not expect to survive. And I understand why you did it. And I am grateful you did it. And if you ever do it again without informing me first, Jedi Council or no Jedi Council, wife or no wife, I will find a way to strip you of your commission that Aurielle will not be able to overturn. Are we clear?"
"Crystal clear, Your Majesty."
"Good." James's voice softened, fractionally. "Now tell me you're going to be all right."
Dene allowed himself, for the first time, a small and tired smile. "I am going to be all right, Your Majesty. Aurielle is seeing to it personally. She has developed a specific list of demands I am expected to meet during my recovery, many of which involve apology presents."
"I can imagine."
"The first one arrived yesterday. It is a very large box of Kuati chocolates, which she has informed me is 'a good start' but does not yet constitute 'sufficient groveling.'"
"Stars preserve you."
"Indeed, sir."
Taftican, who had been listening without expression, now allowed herself the smallest possible breath that might, in certain lights, have been mistaken for a laugh.
James shook his head slowly.
"All right," he said. "Moving on. Tell me about Ma'a."
Three days later, Etago Ma'a stood in the dock of the Imperial Republic's High Judicate, stripped of his planetary titles, his formal dress, and his personal authority. He wore the plain grey tunic of a Judicate prisoner awaiting arraignment. His hair had been cut short. His hands were bound in front of him by a standard restraining field.
He looked smaller, Ashlee thought, than she had imagined he would.
She was seated in the public gallery, not in the royal box. She had insisted. The royal box was for state proceedings; this was a criminal arraignment, and she was here not as a princess but as the surviving sponsor of an expedition whose members had been murdered on Ma'a's order. The distinction mattered to her. Travis, seated beside her in his dress uniform, had declined to argue.
The Presiding Justiciar read the charges aloud. It took eleven minutes.
Conspiracy to murder, eleven counts. Accessory to attempted regicide against the Supreme Ruler of the Imperial Republic. Accessory to attempted abduction of Her Royal Highness Princess Ashlee Stratus-Gourdine. Collaboration with entities subject to the Ancient Sith Interdict. Operation of prohibited biomedical experimentation facilities. Human trafficking, thirty-seven confirmed counts pending identification of additional victims. Crimes against the Imperial Republic. Crimes against the peace of civilized space.
The list went on. Ashlee did not look away from Ma'a once.
When the Presiding Justiciar concluded, Ma'a was asked for his plea.
"Your Honor," he said, in the calm voice of a man who still, even now, believed he could negotiate, "I wish to enter a plea of not guilty and request the appointment of independent counsel to represent my interests during the discovery phase. I also wish to formally request — "
"Noted," the Presiding Justiciar said flatly, with the tone of a woman who had been presiding over criminal proceedings for thirty years and had heard every permutation of every argument ever offered. "Plea of not guilty is entered. Counsel will be appointed. Discovery begins in fifteen days. Bail is denied. Prisoner will be remanded to the secure custody of the Imperial Republic Detention Authority for the duration of proceedings."
"Your Honor, I must object — "
"Overruled. Bailiffs, remove the prisoner."
Ma'a was escorted out. He did not look at Ashlee as he passed the gallery. Ashlee, for her part, allowed herself to watch him leave, and when the doors closed behind him she exhaled slowly, as though she had been holding a breath for longer than she had realized.
Travis's hand closed quietly around hers.
"Done?" he asked.
"Started." She corrected him gently. "Done when he's sentenced."
"When." Not if. He had married her long enough to know when to use which.
"When."
They rose with the rest of the gallery as the Presiding Justiciar adjourned the chamber. As they left, Ashlee found her niece standing in the corridor outside, in plain Jedi robes rather than the dress grays Auri had worn to the palace debrief. Dene was beside her, still leaning on his cane, but standing.
"You came," Ashlee said.
"Of course," Auri replied. "Dr. Thale was your friend. Dene wanted to be here too."
"Thank you."
There was a pause. Auri, who was still getting used to being the adopted daughter of a Supreme Ruler in public contexts, glanced around the corridor. "Is it — would it be appropriate to — "
Ashlee pulled her into a hug before she could finish the sentence, because Ashlee was not, and had never been, particularly concerned about whether things were appropriate when family was involved. Auri, after a startled half-second, hugged her back.
"You're all right?" Ashlee asked, pulling back.
"I'm all right."
"Both of you?"
"Both of us." Auri glanced at Dene. "Eventually."
"Good." Ashlee straightened the collar of Auri's robes, which had not actually needed straightening, because that was what aunts did. "Now come on. Marc's in town. We're all going to dinner. Jim is ordering in from that Kuati place he doesn't normally admit to liking, because he is pretending to be in a good mood and is therefore pretending to be generous. We are not going to question it."
"Yes, Aunt."
"Don't call me that, it makes me feel eighty."
"Yes, Ashlee."
"Better."
Two weeks later, the Galactic Senate of the Imperial Republic convened in special session to hear three announcements from the Throne.
The first was expected. The second was semi-expected. The third was not.
Executor Tavria Treyson, standing at the Grand Dais in her formal robes, made the first announcement with the quiet authority she reserved for weighty matters.
"By the will of the Throne and the consent of the High Council, I announce the appointment of Her Grace Duchess Mareva Tarn of Contrumm as the Supreme Chancellor of the Imperial Republic, succeeding Grand Duke Josefus Quick, may the Force be with him in his retirement. The Duchess will assume her duties effective this session."
There was applause, polite and professional. Duchess Tarn, seated in the High Council gallery, rose and bowed to the Senate. She was a sober-looking woman in her late sixties, with a reputation for competence and an allergy to ceremony that Executor Treyson personally found reassuring. She would do well.
"The second announcement," Executor Treyson continued, "concerns the formal elevation of the Klone Strategic Intelligence Center to a permanent institutional status within the Imperial Republic's intelligence architecture. KSIC, founded in the first quarter of this year as a coordinating body between the Imperial Republic Intelligence Service and the Imperial Republic Security Bureau, has demonstrated during the Almanian crisis a capability to synthesize cross-branch intelligence that neither parent organization possessed independently. Effective immediately, KSIC is established as a permanent directorate-level body, reporting jointly to the Director of IRIS and the Director of IRSB. Underdirector Lan Klone will retain operational oversight in addition to his current IRIS responsibilities."
More applause, this slightly more enthusiastic — the Senate appreciated institutional reforms that could be described as lessons learned from crises that had passed.
"The third announcement," Executor Treyson said, and the room fell quieter, because her tone had changed. "The Stratus Doctrine on Civil Safety, proclaimed by His Majesty the Supreme Ruler at the outset of the Almanian crisis, has been reviewed, refined, and formally codified as permanent galactic policy. The Doctrine is hereby inscribed in the Charter Registry as foundational law."
She paused.
"The Doctrine establishes, in permanent and binding form, the following: that an attack against any citizen of the Imperial Republic by any foreign government, military, militia, or organized armed body constitutes an Act of War against the Imperial Republic; that the response of the Imperial Republic to such acts shall be proportionate to the nature and scope of the attack, but shall in no case be less than the use of whatever lawful force is necessary to identify, pursue, and eliminate the responsible parties; and that the Imperial Republic acknowledges no sanctuary, no statute of limitations, and no political consideration that would shield perpetrators of such attacks from accountability. The Doctrine applies equally to state and non-state actors, to the living and to the dead, to the political and to the theological. A citizen of the Imperial Republic shall walk the galaxy free of the fear of molestation. The universe shall understand this as certain."
The Senate was silent for a long beat.
Then the applause began, and it was neither polite nor professional. It was the applause of a legislature that had watched its government spend six months proving it meant what it said, and was now being asked to formally agree that it had meant it.
The vote, when it came, was unanimous on the first call.
That evening, in the Royal Family's private dining room, the Stratus siblings gathered for the first time in eleven months.
High Prince James sat at the head of the table. Prince Marc was on his right, newly arrived from Kuat with his entourage already dispatched to their guest quarters. Princess Ashlee was on his left, Commodore Travis beside her. Princess Nicole, the second-youngest Stratus, had come in from her appointments on Corellia; her husband McFayden was not present, being away on business, which Nicole had privately described as excellent timing for once. Aurielle was there with Dene, who was still using his cane and had been seated in the chair with the most lumbar support, under strict instructions from his wife. And, entirely unofficially, Praetor-General Kaidlen Shan stood near the door in the discreet near-attendance pattern the Royal Guard had developed over the years — not at the table, but not absent either, because the Royal First Family gathered in one room was not a security situation the Commandant of the Royal Guard was willing to delegate.
James raised his glass.
"To the dead," he said simply. "To Dr. Thale. To Commander Verith and the thirty-six others we have now identified from the stasis chambers. To the forty-six whose deaths began this. To the marines we lost on Almania. To all of them."
"To the dead," the table answered, and drank.
James lowered his glass.
"And," he said, "to the living. To my sisters who refuse to stay where I put them. To my brother who keeps Kuat running while I forget to write. To my daughter who has, in the last six months, married a Jedi, become a Knight, fought Sith cultists on a dead world, and apparently acquired the habit of lying to me about her duty assignments."
"Strategically omitting, Father."
"Aurielle."
"Yes, Father."
"To my son-in-law, who nearly got himself killed on my behalf and is still, as far as I can tell, intending to go back to work within the month against his wife's strongly expressed wishes."
"I am making Dene rest, Father."
"Are you winning?"
"...Intermittently."
Dene raised his glass with his unbraced hand. "I am, for the record, resting enormously, Your Majesty."
"He is lying," Aurielle said calmly.
"I am lying," Dene agreed without hesitation.
"But he is being a good sport about being lied about, which is the best I can currently get out of him."
"To the living," Marc said, raising his own glass and cutting cleanly through the bickering. "And to the uncomfortable fact that we all, miraculously, remain in that category."
"To the living," they answered.
The meal went on from there, the way Stratus family meals had always gone — loud, affectionate, occasionally argumentative, warm in the way that families became warm when they had too many griefs to carry separately and were willing, for an evening, to carry them together. Ashlee talked at length about the expedition she was already planning to the Mortex sector, this time with a full marine escort and, at Jim's personal insistence, two grand-admiral-level approvals in writing before she was permitted to so much as look at the navigational charts. Nicole complained about the Corellian Sector's tax reform proposals and was given sympathy by no one. Marc described the Kuat Drive Yard production schedule in a level of detail that caused Travis to briefly fall asleep at the table, which Ashlee pointed out to general amusement. Aurielle, at her husband's quiet insistence, ate more than she had intended to, because Dene had been informed by the Prometheus's medical officer that his wife had not been eating properly since the operation and had been charged with correcting it.
At one point late in the evening, when the conversation had drifted and the table was quieter, Ashlee caught Dene's eye across the candles.
"General," she said softly.
"Your Highness."
"The echo."
Dene was silent for a moment. Then, just as quietly, he said, "Yes."
"Is it going to be a problem?"
"I don't know, Your Highness. I'm being honest. I don't know."
"If it becomes a problem — "
"I will be the first to tell your brother. And then the second to volunteer to deal with it."
Ashlee looked at her niece, who had been listening without appearing to.
"Auri," she said.
"Yes, Aunt."
"If it becomes a problem — "
"He will be the first to tell my father," Aurielle said, without heat but without leaving any doubt. "And I will be the second one to deal with it. Not the second to volunteer. The second to deal with it. Whether he volunteers or not. Are we clear?"
Dene looked at her sideways. "Aurielle."
"Dene."
"That is not how the Jedi Code — "
"The Jedi Code and my marriage vows have a seniority question that I am happy to litigate with the Council in your presence, if you would like to pursue it."
Dene closed his mouth.
Ashlee, across the table, raised her glass in silent salute to her niece.
From the door, Praetor-General Shan — who had not, technically, spoken all evening — allowed herself the smallest possible smile. She had always approved of Aurielle. She approved somewhat more now.
Etago Ma'a sat in his cell, reviewing the discovery materials his appointed counsel had delivered earlier that morning, when the lights flickered.
He looked up. The lights steadied. He returned to his reading.
The lights flickered again.
He set the datapad down.
There was no sound in the cell beyond the low hum of the environmental systems. The guard outside his transparisteel wall was at his post, unremarkable, paying no attention. The overhead monitors were functional. Nothing, by any instrument reading, was wrong.
Ma'a sat very still for a long moment, listening.
He did not hear a voice. He was, he told himself firmly, not hearing a voice. Voices in cells were the province of guilty men losing their minds, and he was not guilty of anything he was not willing to argue about in court, and he had never lost his mind in his life.
But for just a moment — just one moment — he could have sworn he felt someone watching him. From very far away. With patience.
He picked up the datapad.
He kept reading.
The monitoring platform had been in Korriban orbit for four months and eighteen days when its lead sensor operator, a young lieutenant named Danyek Voss, noticed something unusual in the morning's readings.
He checked it twice. He ran a diagnostic. He checked it a third time.
Then he keyed his comm.
"Sensor Operations to Watch Commander. Priority report. I need KSIC notified."
"What do you have, Lieutenant?"
Voss considered, very carefully, how to word what he was looking at.
"Sir," he said, "I'd prefer to let KSIC describe it. But I would respectfully recommend that whoever's on Jedi liaison this rotation... be on the call as well."
THE END
IRY 34 - The Crisis Begins
IRY 34 - Intelligence and Discovery
IRY 34 - Sith Conspiracy Crisis
IRY 34-35 - Justice and Resolution
IRY 35 - Legacy and Constitutional Strength
"Like unto the Romans, Imperial Republic citizens can walk across the face of the galaxy free from fear, protected by the certain knowledge that great will be the retribution visited upon anyone who dares harm even one of their number."