Prologue:
Captured
Location: Daeldus Supernova, seventeen years ago
Intercepted private HoloNet transmission. Origin: fan-fighter Nightshield; location: processing. Destination: light freighter Ebon Hawk; location: processing. Decoding encrypted data now. Playback
"Are you safe?"
"If you mean away from immediate danger, then yes, I am safe. But he's chasing me through hyperspace, even after several false jumps."
"But you could just fight him, you could kill him. You won countless battle in the Mandalore Wars, right? You almost single handedly defeated an entire army aboard the Star Forge, right? So why should one Sith be any challenge at all?"
"That was years ago. I have grown weaker in my self-exile, while he has only grown stronger all his life. He may look like he could fall over dead at any given moment, but despite that, he is more powerful than either of us."
"Then let me help you! I'm close enough; we could rendezvous within a few hours if I turn around now. We could take him out together."
"No. Even if you were there to help me, we still probably would not prevail. No, continue your course. Don't forget that you're pregnant. Your highest concern should be for the baby, not for a grown man who's more than capable of self defense."
"But-"
"No buts. If the Force wills it, I will accept this as my fate. But right now it seems I have a fair chance of losing him. If I can't outrun him I'll change course to the nearest black hole or supernova, whichever is closer, make it look like a bad choice for a false jump, and shut down all systems a convincing distance away. And if that doesn't work, the I Nightshield /I is able stave off capital ships or even destroy one. I'll try to cause as much trouble as I'll accept and do whatever it takes to protect you… even if I have to crash into the I Onager's /I bridge."
"… You will come back to me. You must…"
"Heh… I'll do my best. Take care of yourself."
"Heed your own advice as well."
End transmission. Voice identification confirmed. First party: Revan Shryne, former Sith Lord. Second party: Eos Sage, Jedi Exile. Nightshield location triangulated: entering realspace over Kianni. Trajectory: plotting course for Daeldus. Ebon Hawk location unknown: outside known space. Course locked for Daeldus. Hyperdrive reinitiated. Standby…
Inside the dark cockpit of the Nightshield, Revan Shryne was already formulating a strategy that would hopefully get his tail out of the fire. The Daeldus red giant, the one and only star within several million light-years, had gone nova almost a month ago. Its sole planet, Daeldus, had been the home of a primitive human race. They had lived oblivious to the galaxy around them and died just the same. He knew no ship could get anywhere near the dying star, not even a vessel with as powerful shielding as the captured and enhanced Republic capital ship, the Onager, which was exactly why the former Sith Lord was heading there.
The streaks of starlight beyond his viewport began to shrink as his hyperdrive disengaged; light from distant stars went from sluggish, to equal to the Nightshield's velocity, to normal as the craft entered realspace once again. Immediately Revan was blasted with intense light as the supernova became apparent. Throwing one arm over his eyes he felt around the cockpit with the Force for the right button, finding it instantly. The transparisteel viewport went from transparent to nearly opaque as photosensors filtered out dangerous light, returning luminosity to bearable levels. It still looked as bright as any sun, but at least his eyes wouldn't be sunburned simply by having them open. What to do… he wondered as he fitted a sunvisor over his eyes, guarding them even further against the glare. Iar will be right behind me. Is there any space junk that hasn't been fried yet? With advanced ocular protection he was able to spot an asteroid (or was it an asteroid?) about the size of a small cruiser, with a perfect little niche for hiding a fan-fighter. But that was much too obvious, and it would be the first place the Onager turned its guns on if and when it arrived. He tried referring to his ship's scanners for a more inconspicuous hiding hole, but found the supernova had fried those sensors. He'd have to do it by eye.
He must have searched the surrounding cosmos for a minute unsuccessfully before he came up with a better idea: before Iar's vessel arrived, make a blind jump into hyperspace. It was unbelievably risky—after all, without proper coordinates he could end up flying right into a supernova like this one or a black hole, and since hyperdrive generators refused to function in a gravity well, it would accomplish just as much as staying put—but he found it a preferable fate than dying in the hands of a practically ancient Sith Lord that fumed at the very mention of his name. Besides, if he succeeded and lived, there would be no chance that the Onager would be able to follow, since it would need to be in the exact same position as he was in and drop into realspace at precisely the right moment. So Revan positioned his ship so that it faced away from the supernova, launched a decoy in the opposite direction so the Sith's sensors would still register the fan-fighter in the area, said a silent prayer to every god he knew of, and activated the hyperdrive.
Starlight again became sluggish as the obsidian fighter seemingly defied the laws of physics, racing through space at many times the speed of light… Or rather, it would have if the Onager hadn't dropped into realspace at that moment, tractor beam active. The unfortunate one-man craft, as well as its decoy counterpart, were instantly caught in the artificial gravity. The Nightshield jerked violently as its hyperdrive abruptly shut itself down. Sublight engines slaved painfully to pull the ship free from the invisible bindings, but it wasn't nearly good enough. Revan cursed every god he'd just appealed to and turned the fighter around so that the new arrival dominated his view. It was wedge-like in design, a haunting shade of gray, with streaks of ebon paint stretching across its top and bottom. Each side had a slight indentation where it seemed a giant had placed two of its fingers when it was still molten durasteel. Turbolasers dotted its surface for defense and, more often, offense, particularly around the three shield generator housings on the exterior (there was a fourth emergency generator on the inside, in case the other three were destroyed). Ion cannons complimented the turbolasers, for when disabling a starship was preferable to destroying it. The bridge, the command deck of this mighty vessel, was recessed into the hull near the back, to prevent it from being so easy a target. This was the Onager, the vessel that Revan had been running from for many years, not out of fear, but due to his duty to stay alive: his duty to his wife and unborn son. I'm not ready to leave either of you yet, he told himself for the hundredth time while his mind formulated several plans at once, just like it did in the Mandalorian Wars. And I've still got a few tricks left. Most victims of a tractor beam would advise another to shut off his engines and allow himself to be pulled in, since trying to run would merely wear out your sublight engines. Some would counsel against that, saying it's better to go out fighting, if you could consider trying to run away a fight. Revan was about to heed to neither perspective and assume a daring idea befitting his name: he was definitely going out fighting. Still facing the battleship, he hit the accelerator, pushing his fighter to maximum speed, following the synthetic gravity to its source. If the currently active shield generator was destroyed, there was about a five second period in which the vessel would be completely open to attack while the shield network was rerouted to another generator. The tractor beam generator was within the ship's hull, but near the surface, and it just so happened that the Nightshield carried a single triachromic air-to-surface bomb, the most powerful bomb available to a craft of its size; in fact, the only thing more powerful was the main cannon of a planetary defense satellite. If he could determine which generator was active and incapacitate it, he could drop his bomb on the bow of the ship over where the generator lay. He realized long ago that it may be a much better idea to launch the bomb on the bridge, but all things considered, he did not want to take out the command deck and all but destroy the rest of the ship. It would only bring more unnecessary deaths, more lives he'd have to atone for. No, if he must destroy this Sith Lord, he had decided long ago that either or both of them would be the only ones to die.
Revan's sensors that had survived the star had already located the active shield generator: the belly-mounted bulb-like growth just behind the main hangar bay. It was an easy target, and, ironically, since it was the source of the shielding, it was the least well-shielded part of the ship; which was exactly why its position was reinforced with extra turbolaser batteries. There was also a wing of Sith fighters to guard it. Mission impossible. No, Revan thought. Mission improbable. Just like old times. The semicircle of a matte-black fighter streaked through insanely bright space with speeds that would have been impossible were it not "hindered" so, and within seconds the kilometers between the two craft shrank to point blank range. By now the Onager's crew had become suspicious and opened fire, spewing emerald energy into space, but it was just as well that they didn't fire at all, as no shot connected with anything but hard vacuum. The pivoting ball cannons on each wingtip of the fighter rotated upward as the ship passed under the other, taking aim at the bulbous stud in the durasteel hull, and began spitting crimson light. Each shot hit its mark, and, with a proton torpedo to finish it, the generator collapsed. Without hesitating, the Nightshade continued its course, against the false gravity, to come above the capital ship. Unfortunately, his vessel was now slower than normal: slow enough for an ion cannon to hit it with full force. All forward motion ceased and the cockpit erupted into a frenzy of sparks and electrical discharges as every circuit in the vessel was either overloaded or completely incapacitated. He was now wholly helpless, without so much as even life support. Revan groaned, massaging his temples for the headache he could feel coming on. "Well," he said to himself, "this is why people come up with contingency plans. I just wish mine wasn't so… drastic." He watched with increasing apprehension as the main hangar bay steadily drew closer, pulling him in like the catch of the day…