Prologue

Beams of light raced along the walls and floor illuminating rooms and corners where possible threats lurked. Boots moved near soundlessly across the sleek floor. Guns at the ready led the way.

The silence, an omen, reigned throughout the station. The walls shook periodically in a grim reminder that it could not survive the assault much longer. No matter how strong the shield was it would only be a matter of time before they crumbled leaving a thin layer of metal between the squad and the unforgiving embrace of space.

The mission was simple. Wipe all the research progress made on this station from the main frames and blow it to kingdom come. There was only one small hitch. Once the station was set to self-destruct the shield would drop and extraction would be running late.

….

Location: Triple Zero, Palpatine's office.

Year:

Time: 22:55

Sidious paced the length of his office. Each time a wall rose in his path he spun sharply facing the other direction. Fast strides made the space of his office constricting, suffocating, almost like the walls where barring in on him. In Sidious's mind a similar pattern took place. Where he could normally just plough through the walls, now they corralled him.

His plans had been moving along beautifully. It wouldn't be much longer before young Skywalker became ready to fully embrace the dark side. Then he felt a ripple in the force some hours ago. A second had followed in its wake, and then another one, and another one. With each one came hundreds of visions flickering behind his eyes, but with each ripple the visions sped up becoming indiscernible from one another. Then just as suddenly as the ripples started, they ended.

Sidious had believed it ended there. Regret was something he rarely experienced, but now he wished he had reinforced his mental walls. There had been no ripples this time round. No build up in intensity. It had started as a unified wail of the force deafening in nature bringing even the least force attuned to its knees. On the heels of the first crippling punch hundreds of waves of raw force, pain and visions crashed leaving no room to breathe. The visions merged into one mind crippling mess. It was like an endless artillery barrage onto an already decimated defenceless town.

Reaching into the force Sidious faced his second wall that night.

The dark side had recoiled from him like a slave in the presence of a heavy-handed master. Again, and again he reached out. Each time more forcefully. The results only became more fruitless as not only the darkside retreated but also the lightside. Sidious felt like the very life had been sapped from his body. If one was to have looked out the window, they would have seen speeders veering out of their lanes into shielded buildings or each other, citizens dropping unconscious or developing spontaneous nose bleeds comparable to faucet being opened from the nose.

Looking back now Sidious realised the force had all but retreated from Courascant, maybe many more parts of the galaxy. Then just like a tsunami it had come funnelling back in pure and raw. He had never felt so alive as in that moment when his body reabsorbed the life-giving force.

Then came the final event of the night which had created an impenetrable barrier around all Sidious believed he knew.

Sidious took a moment to consider that the force really did have a twisted sense of humour. It wasn't a thought he entertained long, but it was one he entertained, nonetheless.

Noctis, Umbara's third and most distant moon. Gone.

Entire moons didn't just disappear without a trace though. It was an established law of science. Noctis will not have strayed from the mould either. What remained though was still in question. Picking up his personal holo communicator Sidious inputted a frequency of someone who would have the answers.

….

Cain's fingers flew across the keyboard with lighting speed. File upon file of data purged itself from the systems. The timer on his hud synchronised with his squads ticked down into the three-minute marker. A drop of sweat tracked its way down his brow even with his suits environmental controls functioning to full capacity. When volunteering along with the rest of Argonne squad he had been fully aware that this may very well be a one-way trip. Sweeping through the empty rooms and halls death had echoed like a distant bell. Now, two minutes and fifty-eight seconds remaining on the clock, the consequences of his choices really set in.

Glancing from the corner from his eye Cain gazed upon the rest of his squad, brothers in more ways then he had been with his blood. Dale with his pale complexion, medical supplies to suit for most situations, and never-ending supply of snarky comebacks. Dara'zs and his silence accompanied by a heavy accent, blunt wording and a rifle nearly as long as he is high. Then there was their squad leader, Harper. Possessing an affinity for speeches and getting people who by all means should kill each other to work together.

Leaning against the console he worked at was Cain's Assault Rifle. The weapon had been with him only for a week its predecessors being lost along with the planets they were used to defend. Just like the other ones this rifle would also be lost to him, humanity, and the universe. Only this time there would be one difference. He would be gripping that rifle till there was no more blood the damn Covies coming for this station could bleed.

About to input the final passcodes to activate the self-destruct subroutine another console flickered to life. On its display was one screen displaying the outline of a green circle. This circle had five more smaller circles within it much like those old Russian dolls and was divided into slices like a pizza. A red grid sprung to life behind the circles followed by numbers.

"Who the hell touched the radar console?" Approaching the radar Harper looked upon the other two members of the squad standing idly near cover.

Three negatives echoed sinuously.

The steely edge in Harper's voice cut through the tense silence with scythe like precision. "Then explain how a console just springs to life without being touched."

"Pulling up the self-destruct subroutine could have activated the radar." Harper turned to face Craig who looked their way. Silver visors locked with grey visor and behind the visors brown and grey eyes locked.

"Sarge? You might want to see this." Dale who had since begun fiddling with the radar called out.

"What"

"You said we wouldn't be getting reinforcements and the Coves didn't have any ships this big in the sector."

Turning back to the radar Harper narrowed his eyes analysing the screen and blip registering at the edge. A size redoubt had already popped up on the side of the screen. In this time the blip had already traversed two of the circle's rings. A second redoubt came to life bellow the first.

"Impossible." Dara'zs statement almost echoed in the room and then parked in the centre hanging over all present.

"I didn't think there was any ships that could travel at the speed of light outside of slipspace."

Craig came to stand beside Dale looking at the screen, "They can't."

A third read out appeared as the ship entered the fourth ring leaving only two left before it collided with the station. Then just like that the blip vanished and the room released a collective breath.

"Glitchy old device." Dara'zs comment caught everyone of centre. The short man was never one to waste his breathe.

Craig returned to his original console the timer on his hud at one minute two seconds.

"Sir ready to activate the self-destruct protocol on your mark." A coldness seeped into the air with the utterance of the words.

"Acti…."

Harpers words where cut off by a panicked Dale calling his name and an ear-piercing proximity claxon going off. The last thing Dale saw before blinding light and heat consumed him was the blip reappear on the radar holding a vector for a head on collision with the station.

[Authors Note]

Me at 1am: Star eyed glance around. "OMG, this was so easy. Why do people say writing is so hard?"

Me rereading my work: "What the hell have I written. Eighty percent of this is going on about coffee."

Hey brave souls willing to step into this small section of hell scape from my imagination. I'm 8th Archangel, or 8th for short.

This is my first time posting on this sight, any sight for that matter but don't tell anyone kay "its our lil secret." Any advice to improve my writing is welcome and so is constructive criticism, "my bros leaves a bit to be desired on the constructive side." The next chapter has been already plotted out mostly and should be up before the end of the month.

Thank you for reading, 8th out.