The Rebel Faction

Coruscant – Beginning of the Battle of Coruscant

Thoughts flashed through his mind.

Of old glory lost, of his brutal slaughter through the Onyx sector, and of the dishonourable acts that laid him low. He had killed the Moff, he had Desaria in his claws, and just when he was about to destroy him his guards came upon his backside with those shocksticks.

Desaria didn’t even grant him the respect of an honourable death.

They let him live. They boxed him up, and shipped him off. For a short moment, they displayed him like some trophy before sending him somewhere to be lost like a bad memory.

Sha’tek was strapped down, in a dark, dank section of some prison forgotten by the rest of the galaxy. They feared him even being able to move. They left him strapped down, awaiting to see how long it took him to fade away.

Members of the Imperial Inquisition came by daily, and prodded and probed and studied. They asked questions, they tortured, but Sha’tek was made of sterner stuff then they gave him credit for. They assumed he was some raw, blunt savage they could easily do what they will with. They didn’t realize the cold cruelness of the depths that had forged the likes of him.

Today, however, they didn’t come. Instead of the casual steps of Imperial boots, he heard in the distance the sounds of explosions. The lights dimmed slightly, and sirens filled the air. A wide, dark grin came to Sha’tek’s face. Sha’tek pressed against his restraints, the mechanical devices struggling to find power that was soon no longer to be found. With a triumphant roar, the restraints gave way.

Sha’tek stretched, freed of his bed; he set himself to work on freeing himself from his cell. His strength had been drained, but his determination had been steeled. He threw himself upon that door, over and over again. The forcefield that once existed was gone, and without it all that was between him was old steel. The door creaking, designed for use with humans in mind, it was unable to hold itself against him long.

Instead of guards, he found only a dark and empty corridor. Whatever was going on, the guards were occupied with other things.

Now, his goals were simple. Find what’s his, and leave this world, butchering anything that got in his way. With the sounds of war outside, he knew there would be little to stop him.

It was time for Imperial Center to learn the wrath of a Shusugaunti scorned….

Hapes



"...and so, as Lord of Relephon and all of the Hapan Regency's assets, I formally dissolve this organization and, by popular demand, return them into the care of the Ta Chume, the Royal Family and Hapes Consortium."


The applause was thunderous as Lupercus Darksword relinquished his formal claim to Lucian D'alaetos' ill-fated empire.


A move so unconventional, so unexpected of someone of Lupercus Darksword's reputation that people were not sure what to believe.


"So, Lord Darksword, what does the Empire think of your little escapade within the Consortium?"


"I had to resign my Governorship to be a leader of poor Lucian's Regency so we shall see what they say when I return."


"Who's running things in your place while you are here?"


"Why my good Admiral Pitta, of course."


"Lupercus, I did not expect you ...you..."


The Dark Lord smiled at his sister-in-law's attempt and nodded, "I understand. Has there been any word on my brother?"


The Ta Chume seemed to sink at the thought of her husband and Lupercus reached out to steady her but she merely replied, "No. But we've not given up."


"If you need any help..." Lupercus began but his sister-in-law waved the thought away.


"I appreciate the gesture, Lupercus, but we are fine. I ... I must say that you do not seem like the man Dakkon describes."


"My dear brother did not lie, my Lady. I am a monster. However, I am only a monster to those I consider my enemies. You and Hapes are not my enemies."


He bowed again, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to Admiral Wilkar to make arrangements for my return to Admiral Pitta.."


"My Lord! My Lady!" came a shout that caused Lupercus and the Ta Chume to turn.


The family's Minister of State came up. "I am glad I caught you, Lord. It appears we may have need of your services.."


"What?!" the Ta Chume stated and Lupercus' eyes registered surprise.


"In what way?" they both asked.


"With Dakkon missing, Lupercus is the eldest family heir. The lot of the familial responsibilities by tradition fall to him."


His sister-in-law was about to speak when Lupercus smiled, "I am sorry, Minister, but my status is not formal. I am still estranged and exiled from Hapes.."


"No longer, Lord. The Queen Mother's acceptance of your claim as Lord of the Regency to accept the worlds you were offering her made your status formal again. You are now a fully recognized member of the Darksword family in good standing. We could not accept planets from criminals after all."


"But could not the Ta Chume fill in..." Lupercus began to point out when the Minister shook his head.


"We are not talking about the rule of Hapes. That traditionally falls to the Queen Mother but she remains on Hapes and within the Consortium. The holdings of the family and other family ranks and privileges however must fall to a blood member of the Darksword family. The Queen Mother is only of the Darksword family by marriage. That either leaves her children heirs or you, my Lord."


"Then, if I refuse?"


"Then a vacuum is left for another family to step up to take the responsibilities..."


The Minister did not need to continue that sentence to let the Queen Mother and Lupercus realize the shift might not only dislodge the Darkswords for good but reshape the nature of the Hapan political direction for the next few generations.


"It appears I have no choice," Lupercus stated in slight surprise. "What would my duties include?'


The Minister ushered Lupercus away from the Queen Mother to discuss the issues confronting the family and he realized that he would be taking his brother's place in a number of areas.


One such area was initiation as a full member of the Executive Council of the Commonwealth.

"Dead?"

"All of them. By alien attack, or so they say."

Regrad paused in the donning of his battle gear long enough to ponder this turn of events. "Only a fool would believe that while Zell is regent. He was always a little too old-fashioned to fit into Simon's empire."

Yolem remained impassive as he relayed the news. "You think anyone else will see through it?"

"Had it been Simon? I would have said no. He was much too subtle. An alien massacre with the scantest of evidence besides a handful of blurry distant shots of a ruined rotunda... had it been the actual alien threat they would have flooded the news networks with images of Imperial bravery. Had it been Simon's scheme it would have been a carefully crafted facade." He pulled a gauntlet into place and secured its latch. "This is just sloppy by comparison."

His armour secure, Regrad set off for the bridge of the Coalition. "No, the international reaction will be feigned shock at the alien attack followed by private shock at Imperial brutality. It looks like it's time to get serious about the League, sounds like a job for the House - in fact it's the perfect busy work for the ministers. They like to keep busy by appointing ambassadors." Regrad sighed, distracted by thoughts of his fallen nemesis. "They're fraying at the seams. I only regret we're so preoccupied with the Reavers that we don't have more time to exploit them ourselves."

A thought occured as they walked. "What news have we of these 'aliens' anyways?"

"Ferguson says he has top men on it." Yolem passed Regrad his helmet. "For the moment we only know they're incredibly bloodthirsty and hostile, and they're causing the Empire an unusual amount of grief."

The two Azguardians strode through the corridors of the ship, passing servicemen and women of many different races. A common observer would note that every one of them was much older than the common soldier, some clearly into middle age or older. A more learned observer would also note that of the species represented many were not Coalition members, or were even long-time foes.

"The only thing that matters on this ship is conviction," Regrad stated proudly as he stopped to look upon the ship's general operations. "Here we are, crewed with the finest soldiers and shipmates from across the galaxy, and every one of us experienced and committed. A true Coalition."

If Yolem thought about this at all he didn't share it. "Did you hear the Empire is blaming us for the disturbances in the Occupation Zone?"

Regrad waved this away. "The Empire blames us for rain and lost buttons. It is the faint white noise of propaganda and means nothing. If anything it's a comfort to know they still target us for their slander, I was sure by now some new up-and-comer would have their attention."

"Are we to blame for the disturbances in the Occupation Zone?"

"Which disturbances are these?"

Yolem pulled a datapad from his belt and glanced at its contents. "A terrorist network responsible for raids on shipping and outlying worlds."

Regrad smiled. "No, those aren't our disturbances. A good guess on their parts, however."

As they passed through the busied halls Regrad's helm-comm began to buzz. "I hope you're almost in position, Prime Minister," said the voice of Panacka. "The fleet's in position and all the comm channels are set up. People are getting impatient."

"And I take it you're one of those people, commander?"

"Just waiting on your order, sir. Panacka out." The crackle of the comm cutting out was loud enough to cause Regrad to wince.

Yolem caught up from his respectful distance, which had been just far back enough that he could still overhear the conversation. "He sounded anxious, sir."

"I would be too, in his position," admitted Regrad. "The East is his home and he has sat powerless to help it for much too long. Now at last we go on the offensive... he has a right to be concerned."

At long last the pair reached the bridge, whereupon every bridge officer leapt to their feet and shot off a quick salute. Regrad returned it and gestured for his crewmates to sit back down. "No need for formality from this point on, we won't have time for it. What's our status?"

"Sir!" A grizzled Azguardian lieutenant turned away from his command console. "All systems are green, all crew stations reporting, the Coalition is prepared to leave orbit."

"Exemplary work," said Regrad, as he settled into his chair. "In that case, link us into the main channel, it's time for the address."

As the comms turned over, Regrad looked out the front viewport and on to the vast Coalition fleet before him. Many members had left the Coalition, this was true, but the remaining members were all true believers. They had not just warships in their ranks, but science vessels, supply ships, diplomatic shuttles, and huge haulers meant for moving masses of goods - or perhaps people.

"We're picking up every comm signal in the fleet as well as the router on Space Station BIM-1," the lieutenant reported. "Everyone's listening, sir."

With a hint of a smile, Regrad removed his helmet and picked up the ship's comm-unit. "All ships, this is Prime Minister Regrad.

"As you already know, our diplomatic outreaches to other powers neighbouring Reaver space went unanswered. Even in the face of this galaxy-wide crisis, there are some too arrogant, haughty, or proud to answer the call to unity.

"It would be arrogance on our part, though, to put down this lack of common cause solely to the pride of our neighbours. There are many who are simply too desperate, too overwhelmed, or too isolated to hear our calls or have time for the niceties of diplomacy.

"The most disquieting reason of all for this silence, however, could be that the Coalition is no longer believed to be a player of significance in the affairs of the galaxy. It could be that none believe we have it in us any more to be of use, that our strength and conviction are disregarded. To this I say no more! We shall prove both our daring and our commitment to peace and prosperity for the people of this sector and for the people of the galaxy!"

Regrad paused here, leaning back in his chair. The critical moment approached.

"That is why I have gathered the pride of our strength here today. The scattered and haphazard half-measures attempted against the Reaver threat are insufficient. It shall be we, the Coalition, that coordinates the defeat of this dread scourge. We shall stand with those who found themselves alone against the Reavers and we shall align with those who try to protect their homes. To those who try to shut their doors to the problems of their neighbours, we shall be the voice that cries no! That calls all to arms against this common threat, regardless of political alliegance.

"They doubt our strength? Our commitment? Ride with me now, and we shall visit every inhabited world that borders Reaver space - Coalition or Imperial, Confederation or independant. We will offer our aide to those who are pressed and call those of means to join us in our mission. The battle against the Reavers will take far more than force of arms to win, as we must fight with wisdom to spare the lives of the countless innocents trapped within the blighted 'Reaver Space'. Wisdom does not flourish alone, and so we shall achieve a grand compact against the Reavers.

"With our pooled knowledge and skills, the Reavers shall have no chance, and we will reclaim lost homes and lost lives. Ride with me!"

Regrad had given many speeches, but for once he knew the joy of immediate action, and reaching out a mailed fist he slammed the command to enter hyperspace. "Our scout vessels will be arriving thirty minutes before us in the first of the outlying systems. Our long patrol begins now."

Great Library of the Jedi, Ossus

The sunrise was particularly beautiful that morning.

Zark Ekan, Jedi Master and pupil of the late Searthen Jiren, gazed out from the balcony of the Library's tallest spire and marveled at how much had been accomplished since his return to the planet he had adopted as his home. The Jedi could not help but remember the funeral of his late tutor and close friend, and the utterly hopeless devastation he had felt then, wandering, half-insane, on the outskirts of the procession.

He had spoken to Gash that day, or at least thought he had. Over the course of the past decade it was difficult for him to sort vision from delusion. But whether it had been a mere hallucination or the ghost of Gash Jiren himself, the words spoken to him had been clear. Keep the dream alive, keep the Jedi alive.

As he watched the twin suns, Adega Prime and Adega Besh, shed the first rays of daylight over the nearly rebuilt city of Knossa in the near distance, Zark could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction, of pride at the work being done below.

We're still alive. Still here, and with the Force as my ally here we shall stay.

Ossus was something of a miracle in a galaxy that was, at this point in time, ravaged by war on multiple fronts and, until recently, almost entirely dominated by an Empire that was the sworn enemy of everything the planet stood for.

Not too far from the Perlemian Trade Route, Ossus had managed to thrive under an independent planetary parliament even despite the fall of the New Republic it once served and its proximity to Black Dragon space. The Daemun had no use for such a world, the Sith feared Gash, even after his death and even if they would never admit it, and the Empire couldn't be bothered to bring a task force in large enough to suppress such an ardently democratic population, especially one that apparently had no lingering interest in galactic affairs.

And so Ossus remained the jewel of a Republic that no longer existed, continuing on much as it had during better times. And now, with the ancient city of Knossa almost completely rebuilt, the reconstruction of a planet once ravaged by war between Jedi and Sith neared completion. It seemed only fitting that the last city rebuilt be a city of the Jedi.

The Ysanna below worked tirelessly to finish the construction of what would be their new home. These men, former tribal nomads and true descendants of the original Ossans, were Force sensitive all, in varying degrees. For the first time since planetary reconstruction had begun, the tribes had united as one people, forsaking their nomadic lifestyle to live in the city of Knossa and guard the Library.

The Library itself, once a beautiful and massive structure that served as a testament to the Jedi Order of old, had fallen into disrepair over so many years. But it, too, was filled with Ysanna hard at work restoring the ancient towers to their forgotten glory.

Zark's hands gripped the balcony railing lightly as he tapped lightly into the Library's aura. Gone was the lingering shadows of the Darkside. Instead, the aura reminded him of the Jedi Temple on Naboo, and well it should, for the crystal he had rescued from the planet containing the ancient temple's Force signature had been laid to rest within the Library's center.

The twin suns fully crested the distant hills at last, and another beautiful Ossan day had begun.

Zark's com link hummed. He ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly, taking one final look at the city below, before turning away from the balcony and answering it.

"Admiral Ekan."

"Ah, beg pardon Admiral," came an all too familiar voice from the little device, "I was hoping to speak with Master Ekan. Have you seen him?"

"Master Tre'Na," Zark chuckled, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

"Besides wondering how you managed to climb the ranks of the Ossan Navy so swiftly and managed to avoid a vibro knife in the back from every jealous Captain you passed on the way up?" came the sarcastic reply.

"Are you kidding? After the Reaver outbreak they practically begged me to take the job. And don't forget, I was a Line Captain during the Thrawn invasion," he said, grinning in spite of dark memories, "What's the word, Teros?"

Jedi Master Teros Tre'Na, a Caamasi who, for the past five thousand years, had lived on Ossus and watched over the Ysanna, had proved to be the most vital ally in the rebuilding process, and even more importantly had proven to be a very good friend.

Teros had single handedly defused tensions between the Ossan parliament and the Ysanna nomads, negotiating the use of what had once been the Knossan ruins as a Ysanna city and even acquiring parliament seats for Ysanna politicians, seats they had turned down in favor of Teros's appointment to parliament as liaison between the Ossan people and the newly formed Jedi Enclave.

Teros and Zark had initially little other choice but to oversee the training of those Ysanna strong enough in the Force to make full-scale Jedi (many of them), but the Ysanna learned quickly, particularly Okko the Wise, the Ysanna leader and Mayor of Knossa.

And Jedi had begun to show up on their doorstep, former members of the Order and Force sensitives who had heard whispers of the Enclave and sought guidance. Fear of Imperial and Sith retribution kept word of the Jedi presence on Ossus very very scarce, but often rumor was enough for those who needed help controlling the Force within them to act.

"The Ossan Navy will continue patrols of the border but make no more forays into Reaver space," Teros relayed, his voice now somber, "I'm sorry, Zark. We just don't have the kind of military power necessary to push through. Our scouts never reported back."

"Karking frell," Zark muttered, "I know. I know. But...frell, Teros, its Asthentia."

"I know, Zark," the Caamasi's voice was abnormally soothing, "And I did try, even if you won't believe it. I know there's no negotiating with Reavers."

"I do believe you, old friend," Zark asserted. As a pacifist, Teros had been very hesitant at first in lobbying for military action against the Reaver threat, "Parliament is probably right in the end, too. But...by the Force, all those people out there. This is exactly what I brought us back together to fight."

"It'll take a lot more than Jedi to wipe out the Reavers," Tre'Na reminded him, "Not even the powerful Zark Ekan with his battle meditation."

"I just can't stand by and do nothing," Zark said, ignoring the other's attempt to lighten the mood, "We...I've been doing that for far too long already."

"Speaking of doing nothing, aren't you due back on board the Axiom in an hour?" the Caamasi reminded him, "I'm surprised to find you planetside at all, even during shore leave."

"Just a few things that needed attending to at the Library," Zark answered.

"How does it look?" Teros asked.

"It looks...it looks as if there's something in this galaxy worth fighting for after all," Zark whispered, talking to himself as much as the Jedi on the other end of the com, "It looks like the most beautiful sight I've ever laid eyes upon. It...it looks like Searthen would have wanted it to."

"I believe you're right," the old Jedi said, "I'll see you soon, Zark. May the Force be with you."

"And with you. Ekan out."

As he reached at last the shuttle that would bring him back to the Axiom, the Nebula-class Star Destroyer that served as the flagship of the Ossan Navy, he pondered Teros's words.

It'll take a lot more than Jedi to wipe out the Reavers.

It'd take a miracle, and Zark could only hope the Force would reveal its intentions to him soon.

Edit: I don't know how many spelling or grammar errors are in here - I posted this from Office 2010 (which is why the lines also came out funny in some cases, it's been a while since I prepared a post in Word) and apparently the check isn't up to par yet. I noticed a lot of them reading it, more than I feel like correcting when I have to wake up at six tomorrow...

***

Kach smiled wickedly at the effect his words had on Vos, who was visibly uncomfortable on the holoprojector. He knew Vos didn’t particularly like him and so he was happy to give the Colonel-General and leader of the SS a hard time. He pressed a button in front of him and the screen went apparently blank, with only a few pieces of unidentifiable debris visible to show that Thorton hadn’t cut the connection. “I want to make this quick, Vos, because we need to move fast. Watch.”

For a few moments there was nothing, then some slight rippling in the starfield as a trio of cavernous wormholes slowly opened. “This is battlefield footage from Yaga Minor,” Thorton slowly narrated over the holovid. “A lot of men died to recover it,” he lied. Nobody outside the highest echelons of his command knew how about the recon or the footage recovered. The video continued and unfamiliar ships of all sizes – from fighter sizes of just a dozen or so meters all the way up to the size of mammoth Victory-class Star Destroyers – emerged from the wormholes in a terrifying wedge formation.
The video disappeared and the Colonel-General was once again in front of him. “I don’t know what’s on the other side of these things, but I’m pretty certain whatever it is, it sure wouldn’t help their cause if we went through and destroyed it.” Wes nodded. Kach knew the proposition was highly risky, but it was bold enough to swing whatever was going on above Coruscant in the Empire’s favor. He had the feeling something like that would be right Wes’ alley.

“I’m going to take three battlegroups and The Stormhawk andmicrojump into close proximity with your battlegroup and move into formation. We’ll be there in about six minutes. Once there we’ll slave our fleets together in preparation to move into the system and take action.”
His expression and voice turned cold. “I don’t know who is daring to attack Coruscant and Yaga Minor, but we are going to make them very, very sorry.”

* * *
Days Earlier…

Smarts:

---

Coalition, Confederation, and independent sources have confirmed a notable presence of Mark III Imperial-class Star Destroyers within Reaver Space―under the control of the Reavers themselves!
Investigations are ongoing, but it appears that a number of vessels belonging to Moff Thorton's Reserve Fleets fell to the Reavers during their initial push into the Imperial Borderland. The reserve force stationed at Troiken is believed to be a total loss, as the swiftness of the Reaver strike there almost certainly overwhelmed the undertrained and inexperienced citizen-soldiers stationed in orbit.

When pressed for comment, Admiral Jonathan Blakeley of the United Cooperative of Peoples had only this to say: “A fleet made up entirely of men and women with less than six week's military experience is no fleet at all. Where I come from, we call it a shooting gallery. Against Reavers . . . I guess they'd call it a feast. The Cooperative mourns these and all the other senseless deaths in Reaver Space, and will not rest until justice is done . . . to all those responsible.”

A report from Cooperative news sources painted a more chilling picture: “It now appears that Moff Thorton ordered substantial elements of his Reserve forces to reinforce local defenders while he made the necessary preparations to retreat with the majority of his standing navy. Data compiled and released by the Cooperative Council of Defense shows that of all Reaver-controlled starships of military caliber encountered within Reaver Space, some eighty percent have been identified as Borderland Reserve ships.”

It is possible . . .

The newsman faded from the screen and the visage of Kach Thorton returned. “It’s good to know our propaganda is working, Tobias. Maybe a little too well.” Gilford could see that he was in a jovial mood.
The old admiral chuckled. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as ‘too well.’ Every faction in the galaxy from the Commonwealth to the Coalition is now completely convinced our Reserve Fleets are inept. Everyone but their military commanders, anyway. They know damn well that an Imperial Reserve fleet is more than capable of holding its own against any equivalently sized force they can muster.”

Thorton chuckled. “No shit they do. Even our lowest quality reserve fleet, the 9th, is at 85% capability compared to the Borderlands highest quality active duty fleet, and 93% against an average efficiency fleet. I wonder how they got the Admiral to lie through his teeth like that. ‘Six weeks military experience!’ He knows damn well they all do the full twelve months military training plus a year on active duty before going onto reserve status with the monthly drills and occasional fleet exercises serving to keep them sharp, and that 75% of the reserve fleet personnel are active duty veterans beyond the mandatory 12 months active duty before switching to the reserves.”
Tobias laughed. “What a shitstorm. Either he’s a lying bastard like you said or the Cooperative military is of a lower quality than Intelligence led us to believe. I love what they said at the beginning about the Imperial III’s. Two! Two Imperial IIIs fall out of our control and all of a sudden they make it sound like they’re crawling all over over the protectorate.”

Kach’s tone turned a little more somber, indicating they’d need to turn to the business at hand after he finished. “The 80% remark was just as misleading. Yes, it’s true, but almost all of them are frigate class or lower. And you can only get that if you include star fighters and now-armed civilian transports. They only managed to capture two battle groups, after all, before we began our systematic withdrawal. And, worst case, they may have cobbled together another battle groups worth of ships out of the two Reserve battle groups we lost covering the withdrawal.”

Gilford looked at his former subordinate for a moment. “Turning back to the business at hand, we’ve completed our preparations for the afternoons raid. I’ll take your suggestions to heart and implement any we can. We've only got two hours though, not a lot of time. Anything I can’t get done today we’ll use next time.”

“Good luck Gilford,” Kach said. “I’m off to Coruscant. We received a distress transmission dump from them and indications are it’s under attack by the same forces that attacked Yaga Minor. I’ll be making contact with you again in 48 or so hours, once the attackers have been dealt with.”

“Godspeed, Thorton,” Gilford wished him. “Do you think this might be it?”
“Kach looked him in the eye. “Yes, in fact, I think it is. Zell has proven himself an incompetent leader over the past few months, and I think this is the boiling point. I’m taking two fleets with me, which leaves nine under your command – more than the rest of the Empire combined if you exclude Desarias Onyx occupations force thanks to the disappearance of the Coruscant defense forces. Have them ready to go at a moment’s notice.
“Anyway, I’ll be speaking with you soon, one way” he paused, “or another.”

* * *


The ugly red photoreceptors of the being in front of Kach seemed to glow even across the holonet.

“Tomorrow or the day after may be the day, Trachta. Whatever happens, be ready.

“Gloria Imperium.”

* * *

On the Outskirts of Reaver Space – Operation Overlord

The bridge of Admiral Gilford’s capital ship, the Administrator was silent as the first images and sensor data from the Ferret recon vessel QXR9-ZD came in. Dispatched minutes prior to observe what was about to take place, it had found their query exactly where they had been expected, but the images were none the less breathtaking. Visible was half a squadron’s worth of light cruisers and frigates, some more familiar models than others.

“Farfaleen and Tion mostly, he muttered to himself, “except for the captured Carrack.” The group was clustered together in a wedge formation in orbit around a large asteroid in deep space for no apparent reason – there was nothing special about the asteroid in terms of mineral content or any other measurable variable. This was not unusual, however. Imperial tacticians had noticed no particular logic to Reaver movements and actions. Reaver vessels would cluster together for no apparent reason in groups a dozen or a hundred vessels strong for weeks on end before scattering or moving as a group to another equally unspectacular location for another round of waiting. In battle they followed no strategy and used no formations or tactics.

Temporarily distracted, even the operation’s technical team was looking up at the target of their venture and not outside at the robotically-operated Action IV transport outside the Star Destroyer – the key to this operation. When it was ready the Chief Technology Officer for the project pressed a button and it disappeared in a flash of light, reappearing seconds later on the bridge’s primary holomonitor, still projecting the Reaver formation in the center of the bridge. It’s engines glowing, it charged forward toward the alien ships. Slowly the Reaver vessels rotated toward the Action IV and opened fire, far slower than even the most inefficiently run Imperial vessel would have. Despite the lack of even the most rudimentary evasive maneuvers no fire so much as skimmed the transport.

Tobias tapped the CTO’s shoulder and the officer turned around, acknowledging him. “How is it managing to avoid fire, Chief?” he asked.
“It’s our new model of the Illusion Sensor Deciever, Admiral. What it does is . . . well, I don’t want to get too technical, but imagine capturing enemy sensor beams and sending back streams of false targeting data to provide false readouts on their sensors. This makes it nearly impossible to hit, because they see several dozen Action IVs in formation rather than just one. In addition, the vessel seems to twist and change positions at the same time. Though it’s practicality is limited in large formations it makes single vessels nearly impossible to hit.”

Gilford smiled. As long as men like this and other equally brilliant engineers continued to serve the Empire the New Order would stand strong, regardless of alien threats.

Buried within the ship’s hold was a massive EMP device, large enough to disable a Star Destroyer. As the ship dove into the formation of Reaver vessels, now sustaining some inevitable hits, the hyperdrive flux capacitors dumped all power into the EMP at the same time all shield energy was diverted to it, creating a massive electo-magnetic burst and instantly causing all active electrical systems on the vessels to go dead. On the holoprojector all seven ships stopped moving and firing and all shields registered as dead on energy readouts of the battle.

Within the Action IV, the ship’s corridors went dark as the electrical and lighting systems died.

“Bring the squadron in” Gilford ordered. “Move all boarding troops to posts.”
Unsure exactly what to expect, the four Star Destroyers jumped toward the silent vessels. Many mysteries were about to be revealed and many unanswered questions, answered.

* * *

Days Later

Fortunately there was an alternate strategy. On some vessels the central computers automatically uploaded sensor logs from the vessels onto escape pods in a highly encrypted format for analysis after the pods retrieval. By recovering the memory banks of several escape pods from Star Destroyers and Golan III and IV battlestations they managed to recover the equivalent of the information they would have recovered from larger ships computers, plus one other thing.
A nearly frozen, nearly asphyxiated, malnourished man.

“Currently Dr. Goddard lacks muscular control, seems unable to speak, suffers from partial paralysis and possible brain damage. We haven’t been able to conduct the brain activity scan that’s necessary to determine the last issue so we don’t really know. We’re not sure how the cold and vacuum exposure affected his body’s Oxygen consumption. He was in space for nearly three weeks, but we think he was somehow put into a sort of artificial hibernation due to fortunate circumstances.”

“Is there anything else?” Gilford asked.

“Well, there is one other thing.” The doctor said uncomfortably before hesitating awkwardly. “He’s . . . strange.”

“What do you mean?”

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. “Admiral, you’d have to see it in order to understand.”

* * *

In The Medical Facilities of Project Futuregate
He knew the Admiral was present before he had even entered the room. And before that he’d felt the Admiral’s intent to see him, his old friend from his early days in the Navy.

For days now since he woke up his mind had been spinning around events as they happened. First learning to feel and trust the new impulses he received. The thoughts of those he talked to and events before they happened. Then questioning how they had been awakened and by exactly what mechanisms they operated – how was it possible to predict the future and sense others thoughts?

And lastly: Now, what to do with this?