Prologue

Within the region designated the Wastes in Wild Space, beyond the outer rim, a lone alliance vessel screamed towards a large, rogue asteroid belt at sub-light speeds. The torch shaped DP20 Frigate, the Lambent Avatar, served as a Covert Operations and Retrievals Vessel. Most of its shields had been sacrificed in order to enhance the performance of the colossal engines. It was following Imperial Communications and signals coming from a dense pocket of asteroids within the belt - which if not approached under extreme speeds, could prove deadly. Upon the bridge of the ship, Runcht Sunb, a nervous sullustan pilot was startled whilst waiting for further orders from his captain.

"Runcht! How close are we?"

He almost leaped from his chair as the combination a rough shake of the shoulder and arrogant human voice caused him to kick his ankle against the base of the command console.

"Close! Trace must have patience! Trace has made enough trouble for Runcht already!" he said in sullustese (his native language) with a frantic and agitated tone.

"A little Sabacc in hyperspace never hurt anyone. Captain Pevin is just a hardass. Besides, you won the pot. I had to look around the crew's quarters to, uh…compensate."

Runcht rotated his chair to face the human with a smirk. Trace Hexn bore the appearance a scoundrel with pride, a constant badly shaven beard to flaunt his stubble and wild hair that never seemed clean, but always maintained a shape pulled behind his ears and neck.

His tanned jacket was bulky and accompanied by a bandolier, revealing the presence of possibly deadly arsenal without exposing it. The lights above the terminal and veiwscreen-laden corridor idly blinked diagnostic colors as footsteps approached the two.

"That the captain?" Trace chimed.

Runcht nodded in reply as Captain Andrew Pevin emerged from the corridor, striding towards the two with a stressed pace. Captain Pevin was a dark skinned human, who applied his military formality with as much dedication as Trace did the dregs of his own lifestyle. His uniform could only be described as pristine.

"C-Captain!" Runcht immediately stood to his feet.

"Easy, Sunb. Slow us down to half our current speed then stop just outside their sensor range. Our engineers are still preparing the arrow-23 in the speeder bay. Speaking of which, why are you up here Trace? You should be suiting up with the SpecForce team. If and when we can get close enough to the Imperial Facility, you're in for a wild ride. Best be prepared."

Trace folded his arms, "I own that 23, Captain. If your boys can aim those turbolasers, we'll have no problems getting in. Getting out is the problem."

Captain Pevin nodded to Runcht, who quickly sat down and complied with his orders.

"All the more reason you shouldn't be up here! I need you there for the final briefing before I issue the green light. Reports indicate we should expect at least two Tartan patrol cruisers guarding the station, in addition to its own gravity pulse defense grid. I want to be ready for them," Pevin stepped closer to Trace, standing an intimidating one and a half feet above his head, "We are here because of you. You need to respect that fact. It's not only your life being risked," the Captain continued louder, quelling an attempted retort, "Now get in that turbolift and get to the launch bay before I jettison you without the 23."

The captain returned down the corridor to his quarters for his personal preparations. Trace rolled his eyes and turned to Runcht.

"You haven't told him have you? You haven't shown it to him?" he accused.

"What? No! Trace's plan still," Runcht lowered his voice to a whisper, "Trace's plan still secret. Runcht would be thrown out airlock too if Runcht told the Captain!"

"It better be. I'll head down to the 23," Trace, too, lowered his voice and held his hand out discreetly, "Give me the holocron"

Runcht turned back to his console and ducked his head under it, pulling open the emergency power box for the system and retrieved a dull teal cube from a recess within, an ancient data storage device, created and used by the Jedi knights before their eradication.

An inactive holocron. He replaced the cover and glanced around the bridge at the other personnel before turning back to Trace. Confident he was not seen, he slipped the cube into Trace's palm. An object of such value would have been apprehended were it to be brought aboard by Trace. Captain Pevin had a less than perfect history with the scoundrel.

"It's time to cage the bitch… and free the beauty." Trace mused with a grin.

He tucked the item into his jacket and strolled casually towards the turbolift, whistling mischievously on his way down.