Kallig's Legacy

by Adriarnna

A high born house falls, betrayed by the very Emperor they swore to protect. A thousand years later a young woman of low birth struggles to find her place in the changed Galaxy. Can she survive the trials placed before her, the temptations and betrayals. Can she be the savior of a now forgotten house?

1. Prologue

Kalligs Legacy

"Flesh of my Flesh"

A Slave's Story

Prologue

5,487 BBY

Imperial Dreadnought "Swift Vengeance"

The twilight of the sleeping chamber came from the soft glow of a few subdued lights in the main living area as they spilled through the open door. Within that other room, half hidden in the shadows a man sat thinking. The surface of the large desk before him lay cluttered with tens of dozens of stacked documents and reports. Visible among this sat small tidy piles of data wafers and the odd memory cube. Only the two glowing red eyes that shone from the shadow covering his face showed his head turned to stare through the open door toward the shape of the sleeping woman beneath the covers of their bed. His mind was elsewhere. Methodically examining every scrap of information he could dreg up that held any connection to the message from his Master. A message that currently shone from the display built into the surface of the desk. Clutched tightly between his hands was part of a metal mask, the shaped and curved faceplate felt cool and unyielding under his fingers.

A noise and movement from the figure in the bed drew his attention. Red tchun-tchin slid into the half-light as the sleeping woman's hand reached out for the missing warmth of his body, instead of him the questing hand found only a large pillow. Watching, the man grinned as woman drew it tightly into her embrace, the upper curve of her swollen belly pushing against it.

His thoughts changed. "No, not swollen. Pregnant! My Sha'larla carries our daughter in her womb. She will have her mother's beauty and my strength. That is, she will unless…" His thoughts returned once more to dwell upon the possible reasons behind the terse message. "Why now? Why send a summons now of all times? What has gone wrong? Why does the Dark Lord demand to see me?" Troubled eyes turned to the faceplate as once again he stared unseeing into the murky future. The mask trembled as his hands squeezed it between them as the questions chased each other through his mind.

"Sha'larla, my beautiful Sha'larla. I hope you can understand my caution and forgive me for what I must do." The words slipped from his lips as a whispered breath in the silence of the room.

The voice startled him. "Aloysius? Come back to bed my husband. Then you can explain to me why I should have needed to forgive you anything." Looking up he found two glowing golden eyes staring back through the shadows. They held him spell bound for a short while.

"It will soon be time to arise, Sha'larla. Besides, it gave me an excuse to work on the..." The soft sigh and the night robe floating across the room to her outstretched hand halted his words. The shadows shifted as she struggled up from their bed, the night covers slipping away to expose her pregnant naked body. Wrapping the robe around herself, she started padding across the chamber towards him.

He watched that smooth stride of hers grow slower the closer she came; shifting from the habitual step of the soldier to the slow measured slink of the seductress that always increased his desire for her. Her hips began swinging a little more, her steps altering, making the skin of her inner thighs whisper softly as they rubbed together while a subtle twitch of her body introduced an eye teasing bounce and ripple through the muscles of her chest, her tchun-tchin curled seductively around her breasts.

He knew that she knew he was staring now in desire; it excited her to be stared at thus as subconsciously she reacted to it as the long ago training and conditioning of her time as a pleasure slave resurfaced.

A slave she may once have been long ago, an involuntary soldier after but not anymore. To him she was so much more. To him, she was his soul.

She reached him, settling herself upon his lap and burrowing between his arms to lean against his warm chest. Hands opening, he simply let the mask to fall to the carpeted floor, choosing instead to wrap those arms tightly around her body. A small gesture from a finger and a sheet rose from the bed to glide across the room to wrap itself around them as he enjoyed the feel and warmth of her body against him. One hand lifted, slowly caressing the swelling of her belly.

"She will be beautiful like her mother. I have seen it within the Force." He whispered, nibbling on an ear.

"I know my love; I have dreamed of Su'lani too." She paused to enjoy the sensations from his caress and lips. "I take it from your words there is a danger coming upon us? I have not seen you this restless except before a major battle. Care to explain?"

Tugging the sheet tighter around her he looked away. "You've been practising I see? The meditation exercises I showed you, the ones to strengthen your connection to the Force, they seem to be coming along well."

"Yes they are and you're avoiding my question Aloysius. You know my secret husband and I know yours. We can destroy each other with nothing more than a whispered word into the right ear. Now Aloysius, do we fence for dominance like Sith, or will you kiss me and then tell me what has you so worried that you think you have done something I would have need to forgive you for?"

Obeying her command, he dipped his head to enjoy the soft warmth of her lips. Several pleasurable minutes later and with far greater reluctance than he would ever admit to, he pulled his mouth away. "I've been summoned to a meeting with the Dark Lord, Tulak Hord at the citadel on Pesegam. He wants to hear my report in person on the state of the planning for the conquest of Kanew III." He paused, thinking. "Try as I might I cannot understand why he should want that report now? There have been no accounts of any new uprisings or fleet engagements from Imperial Intelligence. Not even those enquiries made through private channels have indicated any situations worthy of notice. There is some continuing unrest on our more recent acquisitions but there is nothing, absolutely nothing to give cause for such a meeting. It must be political. It cannot be anything else. It is the only thing remaining that makes any sense, assuming you can call anything to do with politics sensible. It has to be something else, some harebrained scheme those damned power lusting sycophants that flock around and calls a council, must have dreamed up."

"Aloysius, could one or more of the other Lords be making a play for power? Could it be an attempt to besmirch your reputation, your relationship with the Dark Lord?"

"It's possible Sha'larla, it's always possible. The Lords are always scheming and plotting for greater and greater power. It is the way of the Sith after all." With a tender, loving care at odds with the bitterness of his words, he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"I sense danger through the Force, Sha'larla, but whatever it is, is clouded, hidden."

She could just feel him as he spoke, opening himself to the force, reaching out with those senses that only the force sensitive possessed. Concern and determination hardened her eyes as she closed them in concentration, reaching out with her mind in the manner he had shown and explained to her so many times, and made her practice endlessly. The baby in her womb chose that moment to start kicking hard and both she and Kallig gasped at the strong pulse it produced in the Force.

Without thought, she bent her mind to the child, trying to project peace and love. She had tried this many times before without success but this time distracted as she was, it evoked a reaction neither of them expected. There was a brief sudden sensation of caught up in a flood of warm water throughout her mind. Images and impressions that had been mere ghosts and fleeting emotions abruptly twisted, snapping into place with a physical shock. She gasped as everything, images, impressions, emotions even the vague, ghostly currents of the force itself erupted into glorious clarity.

She felt blinded, dizzy. It was as if veil she had worn all her life was gone. Ripped away by some unseen hand and she saw for the very first time the full majesty of a new day dawning from atop some mountain peak. She clutched at him. All around her swirled vibrant colours, the currents of the force. How they flowed around everything, into everything and through every living thing. Concentrating she searched for the flows coming from Aloysius and followed the paths backwards. She gasped anew, her eyes exploding open in shock and awe. The natural glow within her normally soft golden eyes was shining now with a bright almost blinding powerful radiance.

Sensing the abrupt shifts in the Force Aloysius had been in the act of turning toward her anyway but at the sound of her shocked gasp his head snapped around and he stared in mute shock. He could feel her within him, seeing through his eyes, feeling with his hands, seeing herself as only he saw her.

She had always before been a dim spot in the Force to him, a point full of raw, untrained potential. Now, she blazed like a shining beacon of raw, unrestrained power in the dark of the night. It was blinding in intensity to him while to her now much improved senses, he was no longer a vague dark shape, but a dark cloud that hid glittering threads of golden light deep at its core. She watched spellbound as the threads of intense light twisted and danced, hither and thither through the black core.

Realization struck, he had always taken great pains to hide this from the Sith, the Dar Lord in particular, but now she saw the real Aloysius Kallig. In an instant, she recognised the very fine line between the light and the dark that he walked. Doing what he did, not for the short-term gains of power and glory that was the Sith way but, for the future of them all. Finally, she began to understand that he knowingly performed evil to prevent even greater evil occurring.

To the Sith of the Sith Empire he was one of them, a Sith Lord lusting after ultimate power and glory but to her he had revealed his greatest secret and fear. Raising her gaze, she stared in awe and wonder at the now visible motes of dancing light, buried far down in the depths of the shocked glowing red eyes of her lover, her husband. Her soul.

"Aloysius? What... what is this?"

"Sha'larla! Oh my beautiful Sha'larla. You've done it, you've done it." He kissed her hard, passion and exultation fuelling it. "Don't you understand? No, of course you do not. You do not have the experience or training to understand. Sha'larla, you've done far more than just simply touch the force." The words spilling from his lips were full of jubilation and wonder. "Before, when you used the Force it didn't always work? That is because you were afraid, unsure of what would happen. You would shield yourself, drawing only that much which you thought necessary. Your fear would push the Force away, choking the connection, closing it almost as soon as you opened it."

He kissed her again to take the sting from his words. "Tonight, just now, something was different. You did not fear the Force. Instead, you reached out with an open mind and accepted it. Instead of drawing only what you thought you needed, you allowed the Force to use what was necessary. It flowed into you, filled you, swept away the redundant barriers and established the new connection you now possess. Sha'larla, for whatever reasons you opened yourself completely and unlocked your full potential. You will never again have to worry about touching the Force for it will always be there for you now. Always."

"Always?" The word came out in a whispered mixture of awed and confusion.

"Always. This, just now, it is a permanent thing. It will be there whenever you need it. And Sha'larla, my beautiful, wonderful Sha'larla, you shine now like an exploding star within the Force. You are no longer a mere force sensitive, you are a force user and in time with training and experience you will be a formidable user." His lips descended hungrily to hers once again.

Breaking the kiss, she nestled deeper into his embrace, enjoying the emotions he was radiating when a sudden coldness descended upon them. Shuddering she spoke. "Aloysius? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Hush, enjoy your triumph my Sha'larla." Knowing it would fail he still tried to distract her from the dark currents of the force that now flowed through him.

"Not more secrets, Aloysius? I know yours remember and you know mine. What is it?"

Staring at the far bulkhead, he reached beyond. "The danger has increased, it is certain now, aimed at one of us or all of us. The darkness, it is difficult to penetrate. I get momentary glimpses, a flash here and a single fleeting image there. This danger is real Sha'larla, but from where? From whom? Why?"

She curled her arms protectively over her stomach. "Our child?"

"Will be protected, as will the mother." He kissed her again to still the protests she started voicing. "Yes, yes I know you can protect yourself with a blaster rifle or assault gun, but the pair of you are all that is important to me." He resumed stroking her tchun-tchin, trying to calm her, to calm himself. "I have made arrangements. In two days time we will rendezvous with squadron from seventh Fleet off the Churesh Drift. You will be going aboard Admiral Groman's flagship there. He is someone whose loyalty I consider beyond question else, I would not entrust to his care that which is most precious to me. He will see to your safety. If all goes well I expect to meet you at the estate on Ziost a week after leaving Pesegam, if not... You will be protected."

Her thoughts began racing as she threw contingency plans together, modified them and rejected them, gradually building her own escape plan. She knew he would expect this of her and with their child due soon, she would take no risks other than those that were necessary.

It was thoughts of the child that brought her planning to a halt. A sudden fear of what would happen to her and Su'lani should something happen to Aloysius, concern for the future rose. Then another stronger emotion arose as she tried to control her fears. The fear and concern were giving way to her anger. The more she thought, the angrier she became. The urge to berate him for walking into danger was there, the fear of losing him, the fear of what this mysterious enemy would do to her, to the child. It was all there, all the fears, all the worries, all of it beginning to race uncontrolled through her thoughts.

It was the love and calm he projected at her through the Force just then that stopped it. That and the warm feelings his touch always elicited whenever he stroked her tchun-tchin. With the nearness of their child's arrival, any thoughts of parting from him caused great distress but she could not deny it was necessary.

"That's my Sha'larla." He chuckled, sensing the direction her thoughts were going. "Try not to break so much of the furniture this time, eh?"

She chuckled and blushed at the memories that brought back. The anger receded, bleeding away to simple worry and concern.

"On the back wall of my meditation chamber at the estate, there is that oil painting of my family you so hate. If you feel along the middle of the lower frame there is a small metal nameplate held secured by two ancient screws. Twist them both outward until the heads are horizontal and you will release a concealed door in the opposite wall. Inside is my private office, the place where I hid everything I didn't want you to know about." He could not help but laugh at the look she gave him for that comment. "There is a Coruscanti Ironwood desk against the wall. If you remove the draws and examine the exposed wood of the interior, there are several knots visible. Push the knots at the rear of each draw slot and you will release a hidden compartment. Inside that is a bag filled with datacubes, holocrons and a few other items you will need." Catching her face in his hand, he made sure she was staring at him. "Promise me you will follow the instructions on the scarlet holocron, when you take the bag?"

"No!" She struggled to free herself from his arms. "No, I won't. I won't do it, Aloysius." Even as the words left her lips she knew how petulantly infantile she sounded. "You're my husband." The fears returned. "I will stand beside you. If there is danger then we will fight it together." She was struggling as much against her own emotions as she was to twist around in his arms. "I can fight. You know I can. I have seen battle, even war. I have killed before and you, you Aloysius have ensured I know how to defend myself." The air around her was starting to crackle with tiny discharges of force energy. "You will not..."

Calmly, he cut in across her words. "And how will you protect yourself against the force? How will you defend against Sith and their apprentices? Against the minions of Lords who have spent their entire lives training with the Force. Hmm?"

"I am your wife! I am the Lady Sha'larla Kallig, they would not dare!"

With hands gripping her face firmly, he forced her to look into his eyes, eyes that were both hard and serious yet shone with the love he felt for her. "Yes, they would dare!" He kissed her on the forehead, then the lips. "Yes, you can fight my Sha'larla, but not like this." He caressed her stomach. "Nor with the Force either, not yet, in time you will become formidable but for now you are just a novice. And I will do whatever I must to protect you and Su'lani."

He watched her determined eyes flicker for just a brief moment at the mention of their child's name before they hardened once again. "Admiral Groman has his orders. Orders with all the authority I can put behind them. He will destroy anything at all that so much as hints of danger to you." He stopped talking and reached out once more through the Force. So focused on his senses was he that Aloysius never realised he spoke with a soft and slow deliberation. "Darkness. Such a consuming darkness as I have never seen before. I cannot reach through it. It clouds so much, hiding unknown dangers." In the few minutes, he spent probing and examining the darkness from which he could sense danger emanating, Sha'larla fought for some measure of control against the surging emotions of them both. She had found the link between them now, the force bond that would forever connect their minds and realised that part of what she felt, what challenged her normal self control were the emotions pouring through from Aloysius. She had just begun trying to reduce the torrent when he addressed her directly again. "I swear we will be together again, soon. However, if we cannot... then I have to know, I must know that both of you will be safe and protected. Sha'larla, will you promise me you will follow my instructions?" The emotional surge slowed with his focus now back to her.

More in control now, she stared hard at his face, examining every feature, every flaw, committing it all to memory. She traced the scars of long forgotten battles with one hand, scars and burns now exposed to her eyes that he hid from all others behind his mask. She could see the love and devotion in his eyes, feel it through their bond. A love that burned as intensely now as on that first day when circumstances had pushed together. She nodded with slow reluctance. "Very well my husband, but I promise you Aloysius, by all I hold dear and sacred. If you do not return, I will seek out the greatest and most powerful of the Sith witches just to have them raise your corpse so I can kill you again myself! Do you hear me?"

"Ah, now there speaks my little krath kitten."

She slapped him hard on the shoulder before returning to the embrace of his arms, she snuggled closer. Savouring the emotions through the bond her mind turned once again to adding to the existing plans for her and their daughter's safety.

---

Nine days later

Minutes after the small fleet of ships emerged from hyper light they were challenged by the system defences. Lord Kallig had stood waiting in the Captains Ready Room for the inevitable exchange of messages and boring bureaucratic posturing from the Citadel. Instead, the first communication came from one of his many unofficial intelligence contacts throughout the Empire.

"... I have no further information for you at this time, Lord Kallig. As you requested I have had my contacts trying to find out everything they can but no one is talking. More probable is that they just do not know anything. The only unexpected event to occur involved Lord Tacticus killing Lord Chievous fourteen days ago over the others dalliances with his eldest daughter. Other than that one incident there is nothing more to add to the information you already have my Lord." The man in the hologram stopped speaking and waited. His pale face was thin, marred only by a fine tracery of scars that suggested he had once been no stranger to combat, that he had survived getting within the blast radius of some weapon or other. Aloysius noted the man's habit of rubbing the most prominent scar with his right hand when he was thinking hard, a habit Kallig was thoroughly sick of seeing.

"Anything else Major Jourdain?"

"No my Lord. I'll contact you if I should find anything."

"Very well then, thank you Major."

Aloysius took pleasure from the look of surprise on the others face from his simple politeness as the hologram blinked out. Immediately the incoming call light began flashing. Flicking a finger, he activated the communicator once again and the image of this newest caller appeared.

The image of the unknown face flickered a few times before stabilizing, whoever it was looked bored and indignant, almost as if the message they carried or the intended recipient, him, was far beneath their dignity. The man stared a moment studying Aloysius as he examined this new and unknown caller, he made immediate note of the armour worn hidden beneath silken robes of very expensive quality, and the ornate hilt of a dark sabre on the man's right hip.

"Lord Kallig? I am Lord Cameron, Seneschal to the Dark Lord himself. I have been instructed to pass the following message to you, from the Dark Lord." The man paused. Aloysius found himself stiffening in instant affront as the man sniffed loudly and disdainfully at him. "Lord Kallig, as soon as you land you will allow yourself to be escorted into my presence in the Operations Planning room of the Citadel. The General and Planning staff will be in attendance to examine and review whatever concepts you have prepared so far for the Kanew III campaign." Again, the man paused to sniff in derision. "Lord Kallig." He placed unnecessary empathise upon the title. "You have two hours to collect whatever pitiful materials you deem necessary for the meeting. The ship Captains and Fleet Commander of your little fleet will have received their orders already along with instructions pertaining to receiving the military escort already on its way out to you. The escort is of course, only to ensure there are no delays in your meeting with the Dark Lord. Seneschal Cameron, Out." Without any pause, the communication system fell silent.

It took Aloysius several long minutes to regain control of his fury at the sheer affront of the man. It was typical of him that as soon as he was able to think calmly, he pulled out, from a hidden pocket, a small electronic notebook he was in the habit of always carrying and added the man name to a list of tasks to deal with while on the surface of the planet. He grinned at his thoughts. While he personally found killing another wasteful unless necessary the temptation call to him, instead he resolved to transform the man into a eunuch, the old-fashioned way by choice.

The normally unflappable Captain Travis had been pacing back and forth across the width of the bridge, turned and approached the moment he stepped through hatch of the ready room. Aloysius could feel the atmosphere of unease and resentment among the bridge crew; he did not need to use the Force to detect that, it was apparent in their faces and stiff postures.

"My Lord, I have received transit and station keeping orders from System Control and a set of instructions specifically concerning a Security Team already on their way here from the planet who will, I am informed, be acting as your escort." Travis stopped speaking; the urge to comment about the insults and level of distrust implied in the orders was great but he felt certain that Lord Kallig already understood that. The orders received appeared routine that was true enough, however the formatting and wording along with the haphazardly appended supplementary instructions regarding the approaching escort and their duties was unusual. Unusual enough, that the situation was bothering him.

He came to a decision. "With your permission, my Lord, I intend to arrange a series of joint training exercises between ourselves and several of the ships stationed here. I feel sure that some of the other ship captains in the system will jump at the chance to test the mettle of their crews against us; it would add that extra incentive to do well. Two or three tracking and intercept scenarios, one or two damage control scenarios and I thought something particularly unusual to see how adaptable the crews are. Say something along the lines of repelling an enemy boarding action."

Aloysius Kallig was a Sith Lord, a formidable strategist and considered by many of the Empire to be Tulak Hord's most successful and dangerous General. Even with the changes occurring in his personal life and the recent unusual behaviour from his Commander in Chief he immediately understood Captain Travis' intent. "Of course Captain, the ship is after all your responsibility and it is your duty to ensure the crew are kept sharp. Moreover, I believe you are perfectly correct, something odd and unusual will produce some very interesting results." He watched from the corner of his eyes the spreading sly smiles, the easing of tension in hunched shoulders and relaxation of stiff postures as the bridge crew absorbed the hidden meaning in their exchange.

---

Ten minutes later

Standing in the main room of his quarters, he looked around one last time; he was feeling an unaccustomed sensation of uncertainty. There was something missing and it was irritating him as to what it could be. Pulling out his small notepad, he ran through the checklist one last time. Everything was correct, everything ticked off but there was still this nagging feeling of something left undone. As he reached for the locked document case that held the latest versions of the developing operation plans, documents, and datacrons that was when his eyes fell upon the very old-fashioned flatpic sitting on the corner of the desktop. A wave of vast distance and loneliness washed over him, the absence of Sha'larla's familiar presence was he realised the cause of his disquiet.

As if she had heard him, a powerful feeling of love and tenderness reached touched him through the Force for just a brief moment. His response was automatic and heartfelt as he replied with a projection of his own love and devotion.

The entry alarm on the hatch pinged, shattering the moment. Tucking the picture into an inner pocket, he released the door lock and called out. "Enter."

Standing in the open hatchway dressed in the gleaming metallic black and grey of Citadel Command armour stood a Major, his entry blocked by the crossed weapons of Aloysius usual shipboard guard detail. The two guard's postures radiated their distrust and anger at the slights upon theirs and the ship's honour as indicated by the presence of the Major in charge of his escort.

"Major Eva'shon, Lord Kallig. I have orders to escort you down to the planet and to your meeting with the Dark Lord. I have a shuttle and fighter escort standing by, if you wish a little more time to prepare your briefing materials we have a little time in hand."

For one brief moment he was tempted to deliberately delay but a quick reading of the Major's aura through the Force indicated his honesty and unease at the unusual orders, there was no signs of duplicity, as he would have expected in a trap.

"I was about to leave for the shuttle bay when you arrived, Major, so the timing was fortuitous." He watched the other step back, away from the hatchway. The force easily conveyed to him the surprise from his regular detail as the Major indicated for them to assume their normal escort positions, his troops falling in alongside. The level of anger dropped as recognition arose of the Major's intent to supplement and not replace the regular detail. Respect for the Major and his people's delicate handling of the situation rose in the minds of his bodyguards. The group moved off at a brisk but comfortable pace. If he had looked back he would have seen the light on the communicator blinking before the closing hatch shut.

---

Pesegam Citadel

Landing pad 5 approach

Pesegam. The original home world of the Sith species and prior to the great hyperspace war, capital of the Sith Empire. Now it was a barren planet covered with vast deserts, stretching canyons, dry riverbeds and ruins, hundreds upon hundreds of ruins. His mind, ever active, brought forth the data about the planet even as he watched the oranges and reds of the terrain flash by beneath the shuttle in the display. A world still habitable, albeit with a heavier gravity field than most races throughout the Galaxy would find comfortable. Its' cold and dry atmosphere often came as a shock to many visitors to the planet who assumed that such a barren desert world must be unbearably hot.

Aloysius watched as the famous Valley of the Dark Lords approached. He observed the bifurcated peak of the Sith Academy, as its' dark and forbidding shape climbed above the canyon wall as the transport dropped lower, the rising sun framed between the twin horns of the academy provided an awe inspiring sight. The Academy slid away to the side as the shuttle banked onto its final approach path towards another valley.

There on the display grew a distant grey smudge against the valley wall. The closer they approached the array of landing pads located at the entrance to the valley, the larger that grey smudge became until at last the armoured entrance doors to the citadel were discernible. It did not look much, lacking the usual grandeur and ostentation the Sith habitually adorned their buildings with but then this structure was intended to deceive the eye. It was in there that he was to meet his Master, the Dark Lord of the Sith, Tulak Hord.

A minute after arriving he stood at the foot of the shuttles boarding ramp and took a moment to look around, taking in the nearby orange rocks and ever present sand. He had been here many times. Each time somehow felt different, yet new. Now he just shivered in the cool air. Staring out, past the array landing pads and supporting structures for the Citadels landing field, he examined the just visible framework of scaffold surrounding the construction of an ion cannons emplacements familiar spherical shape starting to rise above the towering rock walls of the valley it stood in. The entrances of what he guessed would be several ancient tombs could be seen dotted along that far valley wall but the distance obscured the details. The wind picked up and a swirl of red sand danced past in a whirling column of air.

Looking forward, he stared once more down the long lines of drawn up troopers towards the squat grey entrance. He knew, without looking, if he turned the around he would be staring out over the edge of a two-mile drop of sheer cliff. The smaller shuttle landing pads projected out over that drop. While far below the desert sands that rubbed against the base of the rock wall stretched out and vanished off into the far distance leaving nothing behind but fields of the ever-shifting dunes of ubiquitous orange desert sands.

Nearby noises informed him his personal guard were arranging themselves in a protective detail around him. No spoken orders or commands disturbed him, when he moved, the group moved with him. He set off down the long line of troops.

As they approached the entrance to the Citadel, Aloysius began, from long habit, compiling a list of all the errors and mistakes in the location chosen for such a vital command structure. There was the expected delay entering the fortress although the escorting guards surrounding him helped to expedite matters.

Inside the plain entrance he paused briefly, inwardly shaking his head at the deliberate design of such a forbidding looking hall, he mused upon his earlier thoughts of the obsession the Sith had with such grandeur. He could see it everywhere in extravagant clothing and homes, the accumulation of power and wealth far beyond what they could possibly need to enjoy a full life. Looking about this entrance hall of the Citadel, he could see it everywhere in the ostentatious decorations, ridiculously high ceilings of the side rooms and corridors and the cavernous offices of minor officials. He didn't even bother to glance at the eighty foot high statue to Tulak Hord they passed, by then his thoughts had moved on to the approaching meeting.

They paused again as they passed through the second security ring, more time was required here. The guards and security teams trained here in different techniques. Looking for different sorts of signs for potential troublemakers to the criteria used by the first security ring. Once past this layer they began encountering many of the politicians and political figures of the many subject systems.

The approach to the third and final ring of security took longer. These were the guards even the Sith respected, for they were very carefully selected for their resistance to the Force techniques and mind tricks that the Sith used. They were considered a serious danger by many of the Sith who intensely distrusted anyone or anything trained to fight and subdue if not kill them, A fact that made Aloysius greatly respect theses guards, for it was no easy task for the Force blind to injure a Force sensitive or user.

Clearing the third overt ring of security the now reduced group found corridors and meeting halls filled with those who wielded real power throughout the Sith Empire. Sith Lords and Darths filled these halls and meeting rooms while legions of bureaucrats busied themselves in the countless offices.

Aloysius could not help the thought on how it was the closer a being one got to the ultimate seat of power the greater the number of people that being encountered who wanted that seat for themselves, who were convinced they were the better choice to be running things.

The group's movement slowed down once more by the sheer volume of people that packed the passageways around them. Many of these beings held high station within the Empire and as such required a much less confrontational approach to pass. Many took note of the Dark Lords personal insignia on the uniforms of the Major and remaining escort. Others needed a little coaxing to move aside.

Soon they found themselves approaching the final security checkpoint manned by the Imperial Guard. The personal guard force of the Dark Lord himself, fanatically loyal, dedicated and highly trained. They answered to no one but the Dark Lord and themselves.

Minutes ticked by as they passed through the security point, his escort now reduced even further now until finally just he and two others walked down one the particular grey painted, blast proofed steel lined corridor to approach the doors of the Planning and Strategy room occupied by the Dark Lord of the Sith, Tulak Hord.

With each step, the sensation of danger increased.

---

Strategy and Planning Suite 3278A

Local time: 0733

Everything appeared to be normal. The thoughts and emotions of everyone within sight focused tightly upon their duties. The guards stood at the doors ahead seemed alert to all outward appearances but he could sense the boredom the felt through the Force. They had become tense and fully alert the moment he had turned the corner to this passageway, the closer he came the greater their tension rose. The sensation of unease radiating from them increased.

Reaching the midway point along the corridor to the doors ahead and the main corridor behind, he watched one of the guards fiddle with something on the panel of the security station, the secure scanning sensors activated, its multiple emission fields passing over him. The guards relaxed minutely, as confirmation of who he was and his right to be here came up on their displays. At a nod from one to the other, the guard nearest to the locked doors tapped in the current security code for the door release before stepping aside to hold the door open for him.

Inside he found a tense scene as everyone present stared towards a grey haired Admiral who had ceased speaking at his entrance. An impatient wave of the hand from the tall man he stood before signalled for his continuance.

Approaching the large central plotting table Aloysius listened carefully to the other speaking, internally he cringed as the fool attempted to describe a disastrous operation of blunders and monumental errors in judgement as all part of some brilliant strategy. The surrounding display screens suspended from the ceiling changed frequently to display maps and images to highlight the Admiral's words. Tulak Hord's entire demeanour throughout was one of thoughtful attention, as every so often he would nod his bent head to encourage the man's words further. Far too soon, the Admiral reached the end of his report and stood waiting for the Dark Lords response. He did not have to wait for long.

Stepping up to the plotting table, Hord manipulated the controls, recalling several images, after action reports and numerous maps upon its surface display. The only sounds throughout the room during this time came from assembled audiences breathing. Looking up abruptly, his words began in a soft even tone that still made everyone twitch at its suddenness.

"I found your report, Admiral Vengan, to be a model of efficient description and surprising brevity, indeed, I would compliment you on the speed with which covered your analysis of the initial situation, formulated a response and rapidly deployed your forces." He paused to re-examine several reports.

Those watching saw as the Admiral swelled a little at the apparent words of praise. Some looked away, knowing the Dark Lord was not finished yet.

"What, however I find unforgivable is the complete lack of understanding you still exhibit about the situation you allowed yourself to blindly walk into. You made no mention of the officers on your staff who objected to your hastily conceived operation which was based solely upon the word of a single, I repeat, single informer.

Further, you have made no mention of the fact that you sailed with less than half of your task force unable to accompany you due to scheduled maintenance. That many were in fact days away from being able to follow due to the complete shutdown of their drive systems and main power cores. Nor do you make any mention that those ships that did accompany you and make the jump had less than half of their mandated stores and a quarter of their normal crew compliments aboard. Because, as per your own General Orders 138, they were in the process of making ready to move immediately into the orbital slips of the waiting shipyards for overhaul before those self same shipyards had released that half of your task force already undergoing overhaul and maintenance!"

The colour was draining quickly from the Admiral's face at these words, but not in fear, to everyone's incredulous eyes the man showed visible signs of anger.

"So, as per your own orders, you placed your entire task force into a state of unpreparedness that would minimize their effective response to anything that happened in the sector under your control as local Military Governor. Would you like to try to explain your stupidity for removing the bulk of your forces from their ready state? Or perhaps you would care to explain your utter disregard of the standing orders I issued with regards to the deployment of weapons of planetary bombardment or even your failure to report on the use of weapons of genocide against the population of the planet Goval 7 in the system Garvanyar?" The Dark Lords voice was quivering with quiet rage as he paused.

Incredulously, Admiral Vengan allowed his anger to overrule his sense of survival. "As you said Hord, 'I' was the Military Governor of the Sector. The sector was in revolt, information came into my staff's possession that required it immediate action. I ordered what forces I had available from the pitiful few you allowed to be assigned to me in that Sector, into action to quash an open revolt. The rebellious scum only had a few system defence boats and captured pirate vessels to aid their two or three antiquated cruisers and destroyers. My Task Force crushed them all under foot! That left the scum on the planet! I had neither the required quantity of equipment nor ground troops to go down and deal with them, a consequence of your direct order 5432/7a, which took away nearly all of the ground troops under my command, Hord. I did what I had to do, what any good officer in the same situation would have done, what the Empire had done in the past to such insignificant worms. I wiped them out and good riddance to them. I am a good and loyal officer of the Empire and I will follow its glorious tradit..." The ranting voice stopped, replaced by choking and gagging sounds. The Admiral clawed at his throat.

"You did nothing but idiotically allow your entire offensive force to be rendered ineffective and removed from control of the entire sector, a sector that now has to be conquered again and brought back into alignment with the Empire. You grasped at the drugged ramblings of an informer whom your own staff knew to be a plant and tried to tell you such. You ignored that same staff when they begged for even the most basic forms of verification of the information you were determined to act on. You throw together an operation that any fool with their eyes closed and one hand tied behind them could have punched holes in. You blundered into a trap so obvious that even the local pirates had been avoiding the system for weeks and allowed what remained of your Task Force to be overwhelmed by an organised and well led inferior force that you should have outnumbered twenty five to one in ships and forty to one in sheer weight of fire. To complete this monumental disaster you refused to withdraw when it became obvious that it was a trap and you were outclasses and instead you ordered your forces to go toe to toe, reducing four fifths of you force to airless hulks and scrap. Finally, out of anger and spite at being so soundly embarrassed and humiliated you subjected the home world of your so-called informer to an orbital bombardment by weapons of mass destruction subjecting said world to over one hundred and forty four hours of continuous kinetic bombardment! Before 'you' decided it would be a better idea to cover the entire planet's surface with mark 59 biological warheads. An entire planet devastated, destroyed for centuries just because you are criminally incompetent."

Blood flowed freely over the grey uniform of the struggling Admiral; his desperately clawing fingers were stripping the very flesh from his throat. Tulak Hord raised his curled hand higher allowing the Admiral to see the closing fist made by fingers and thumb. With a face of dark purpled flesh and obscenely bulging eyes the Admiral fought to draw breath against the invisible force choking him. The convulsive jerk of Tulak Hord's hand drew the attention of all those watching with sick fascination, to the movement, but even as they turned everyone could clearly hear the loud crack of the Admirals neck snapping.

As the hand fell, Tulak Hord, Dark Lord of the Sith glared contemptuously at the falling corpse. "Such incompetence deserves only a long lingering death. However I have neither the time nor the energy to spare in such pleasurable pursuits so I grant you the only mercy you will ever receive from me Admiral, I grant you a quick death."

Turning away Tulak Hord smiled as he spotted his General. "Ah, General Kallig! You made it; I hope you have brought good news?" Tulak motioned for Lord Kallig to move to the plotting table as everyone else drew closer. Behind the Dark Lords' back, two of his guards stepped forward to drag the corpse away, Aloysius, like everyone else, ignored them. Instead, he focused on the present and the multitude of questions he would soon be facing as he began removing documents and data cubes from his small case.

"The operation is still very much a work in progress my Lord, but I believe you will be pleased with what has been prepared so far. With your permission?" He gestured to the small computer console embedded in the table.

A nod. "Continue General Kallig."

Arranging the documents before him as the data transferred from the datacrons into the computer systems memory core, he took a moment to sense the emotions emanating from those gathered in the room. A soft beep signalled the completion of the data upload as the illuminated surface of the table changed. Now, it displayed an enhanced image of the target system. While organisational charts and logistical requirements lists flashed into being upon the overhead displays. "As you can see from the summary on Tab A, the majority of the Task Force elements are now assigned and listed in the primary order of battle leaving only the final designation of, subject to confirmation, the secondary objectives. Tab S contains a full listing of all known secondary targets along with recommendations of the minimum of forces required on an individual case basis. The majority of the secondary targets revolve around the decision of whether to include small Special Forces Units into the plan or specific Special Munitions requirements for the Fleet Train."

"To name only two examples here, are we to include prison ships for extraction of the more recalcitrant elements of the target population or for the transportation of slaves. The second example deals with the presence of special weapons carriers for warheads and delivery systems specific to mass extermination devices of biological and chemical natures."

"Moving along, Tab B details those parts of the operation that are still undefined or in the early stages of planning. Much of this deals with the actual forces to be included in the spearhead and ground assault elements as well as the follow up ground occupation forces."

"Orbital bombardment by heavy kinetic projectiles at ground based weapon platforms capable of disrupting the spearhead forces is still the preferred method to reduce mass casualties in the first assault waves. Assuming, based upon previous invasions using similar strategies, that no unexpected technologies or defensive systems appear we can nominally expect no more than a lose rate of 30% in troops and material in the initial assault upon the planet. I intend to make allowance for that to rise to 50% for the appearance of the unexpected in the final operations plan."

"Now, while those rates are high, they are well within the norm for an operation of this type using the mix of forces indicated. If you will examine Tab C you will see that the logistical requirements are quite less than that..." He spoke on giving a general summary before launching into explanations of each stage of the operation in detail.

A little over four hours later, he finished. "... And that, is as far as the primary operational planning goes my Lord. I am estimating a minimum of a further six to ten weeks to complete the full operational plan for submission to you and the General Staff."

Tulak Hord stared at the table display, taking several minutes to complete his thoughts. Deep in his gut, a small but insistent voice screamed out against the military genius of the man before him. It would be correct to say that deep down, Hord felt greatly intimidated by this man. It was a feeling he disliked in the extreme.

"My Lords, General's, I will hear your comments first." Hord demanded.

The following question and answer session started slowly at first as the men and women who formed the Sith Empires General Staff stood examining and absorbing the data and details of proposed operation before them. As slow as it started, the questioning quickly built momentum until Lord Kallig was spitting out answers or improvising solutions as fast as he could articulate the words or manipulate the computer controls.

Time flashed by as Hord's unease grew. He had always respected Lord Kallig, the way the minor lord had secured his position had demanded that but now those feelings of unease and intimidation had, with the presentation of this operation, pushed Lord Aloysius Kallig into that most dangerous of categories.

Hord now saw Lord Kallig as his greatest rival for power.

Food and drink appeared and vanished, consumed almost without notice. The piles of notes and revisions grew taller. Ideas and alternate strategies came forth; the group discussed each in detail before either accepting or rejecting them. Meticulously they examined every chart, every time line and every unit selection. Piece by piece, they dismantled and reassembled the entire operation, until late into the planetary night the pace of questioning slowed. It was a tall, heavily built Sith woman who had remained silent until then that asked the final question.

"I assume you; Lord Kallig will be assuming overall command of the operation. Therefore, that leaves only the question of who will actually command the forces on the ground. Lord Kallig, who did you have in mind?" The woman asked in a calm, respectful tone, knew she was no match for Lord Kallig if she offended him.

"There are several candidates that come immediately to mind Lady Nyx. You, your self are one among them, but it is not something I have considered..."

From where he stood Tulak Hord had watched the interactions between those present and Lord Kallig, it had done nothing to reduce his growing fears. Long habit had made him viciously suppress his force aura, masking it so that none, not even a master of the force could read his state of mind. Inside his mind however, his fear fuelled anger seethed.

Any friendship he may have once felt lay buried deep beneath intense jealousy. The awe for the operation the others showed, the respect they lavished upon Lord Kallig, all conspired to add fuel to the anger, to stoke the feelings of intimidation at this man's formidable skill. At that exact moment in time, all Tulak Hord felt towards his most loyal of Generals was pure unadulterated hate. "Enough!" Hord broke in to the conversation. "You are dismissed. I expect reports from each of you in the next two days on this operation. Lord Kallig stay. I have matters to discuss with you, and you alone."

Aloysius began collecting the datacrons and documents, piling on top of them the copious notes and revisions that had accumulated. While the feeling of danger had continued throughout the meeting, since entering the room, it had not grown any stronger. His attention mainly on collecting the last few stray documents scattered about, he missed the hand signal Tulak made to the guards. Therefore, it came as a surprise when they turned and marched out of the chamber, leaving him alone with Tulak Hord.

"My Lord?" It was only now he was beginning to realise the error he had made. He had thought Tulak Hord a friend, had lowered his guard considerably. Realisation slammed home, he may be a friend but more than that he was a Sith. A Sith Lord. A Sith Lord of great power. A power he thought was threatened. Aloysius spun back around at the snap hiss of a dark sabre igniting.

"If you want my power, Kallig, you will have to pry it from my corpse." The words came as a shocking scream. The blood red blade already in motion, as Aloysius's head completed its turn. The anger and fury shone blindingly from Hords eyes as the masking of his aura faded away to reveal the full extent of his hate.

For one, brief moment Aloysius stood stunned by the sheer boiling ferocity of the dark aura surrounding Hord. Only instincts and reactions learned from a lifetime of training saved him. His dark sabre leapt into his hand, the orange blade extending even before the hilt slapped firmly against his palm.

Blood red crashed against orange and the fields containing the plasma circuit strained against each other, their snapping, hissing squealing notes filling the room while the glow reflect from the two combatants faces, adding a demonic visage to both.

A force leap carried Aloysius backwards, giving him precious seconds to recover his mental balance. Hord meanwhile spun away, clearing the reach of his enemies' blade.

"My Lord, I have done nothing..."

"Liar!" In his rage, he screamed out the word. "You think me a fool. I watched as you swayed my own staff, my own council before my very eyes."

Hord leapt forward, his body twisting as he executed a fast, powerful spin. Aloysius dived to the side. His flashing blade came up to block an attack that would easily have removed his head from his body if he had been but a mere fraction slower. Their blades slammed together forcing the semi solid containment fields to interact again, causing a shudder to pass through both combatants, for although the blades were plasma energy, they were contained within a malleable force field. Such blades had no mass to speak of unlike the metallic blades of the past but the point of contact between the two blades still produced opposing fields that repelled each other. Both combatants felt the impact through the hilts in their hands and shudders raced along their arms.

"I will not stand by and watch you take what is mine, Kallig!" Hords' feet struck the wall where the spinning leap had carried him, pushing off instantly, he utilised a tiny amount of force power to lift him high up toward the ceiling in a leap that carried him over to the right.

Aloysius meanwhile turned his dive into a roll, to come back to his feet in a defensive ready position, his blade low but tip held high as it carved small quick circles in the air.

Both men glared at each other now from across the room. The very air between them was crackling with visible energy as they slashed at each other, deflecting multiple force attacks with consummate ease.

The guards gathered outside the rooms main portal heaved against the closed doors, the sounds of combat within had alerting them to a conflict between the greatest dark sabre duellists in the Empire.

"I should have known it would come to this Hord. You are too covetous of power to allow any who use the force to live for long under your gaze."

"Betrayer! You would gladly take what is mine."

"I called you friend Hord! Now I see I was wrong. I would have gladly taken a seat beside you. I did not want the power or position you hold. I know the draw it has on our kind."

"LIAR!" The roar of the word with the power of the dark side behind it would have deafened and stunned anyone other than an experienced force duellist. It was an old, nearly forgotten force technique

"But I am not, Hord! I would have stood in your shadow and defended you, planned your operations, your campaigns of conquest and been secure. Those that came after me would have been far less than those that would challenge you and I knew that. I would have had to fight to keep my place, but I would never face the challenges you would. Now though, now you have torn aside the friendship that made me loyal. Now I will kill you." Hord opened his mouth to reply but instead dived to the side as pure force energy in the form of crackling purple lightning sprang into being from the tips of Aloysius's outstretched hand. It leaped towards him, striking the wall where he had stood, leaving burning, melting gouges in the metal.

"What?" Hord dived again as a second stream of lightning flashed across the room. Reaching out through the force, he pulled hard. The carpet Aloysius stood upon suddenly moved forcing him to respond or lose his balance. The force lightning stopped.

Across thirty feet of burning, shattered room, they stared at each other. Their humming blades tracing small circles in the air, their minds locked together in invisible combat again as each ran through combinations of force attacks and parries. They were masters of dark sabre combat, often practising together for there was no one else that would willingly risk life and limb to spar against them that they would trust.

Tulak being the more aggressive and impatient moved first. In a blinding series of moves he leapt forward and to the left, his blade sweeping through a staggering series of arcs that abruptly changed direction to cut the legs out from under Aloysius. Seeing the leap, the dancing red blade, Aloysius stood his ground, waiting until the very last moment before sliding smoothly to the side, the orange blade coming around to block the other and yet moving very little from the position of guard. The abrupt change in direction of the sweeping red blade he was ready for, their blades crashed together once more in an explosion of angry energy. Instantly, the attacks changed again. Once, twice, three times their blades swung only to crash red against orange, they backed away from each other.

Now, with only eight feet of space separating them, the fight began in earnest. Force push and lightning mixed together with sudden thrusts and spinning attacks. Blade struck blade time after time in repeated explosions of noise and energy. Debris produced from earlier assaults flew with great abandon between them. Time became meaningless for them. Their blades became physical extensions of their bodies. Mind clashed against mind as often as blade met blade.

With a resounding boom, the main doors to the room came down. Guards charged forward, both men lifted a hand and the unfortunate guards in the van, guards seeking only to carry out their duties found themselves hurled back through the doorway to sail high over the heads of their fellows until crashing against an outer wall or unfortunate colleague.

Seeking to take advantage of any possible distraction, Tulak Hord pressed forward with a complex series of incredible attacks. Aloysius blocked and deflected each, turning asides thrusts, he turned his parries into attacks of his own and Hord found himself forced to give ground.

To the guards watching from the doorway, the two men moved like flowing water across smooth rock. Every attack, every block, every parry was a movement of exquisite grace. The air filled with liquid seeming light as the blades left trails or colour upon the retinas. Several guards fired blasters at the combatants only to realise a moment too late how final a mistake it was. As the whirling blades of the combatants intercepted the bolts, sending them back with deadly accuracy at the unfortunates who fired them. Their smoking corpses catapulted back into those behind.

For more than three hours, they fought. It was a fight between titans or so the legends would grow to become as the few watching guards stared in abject fear and awe at the power and forces unleashed.

It was, from the most unlikely of all possible sources that the end came.

Aloysius, sensing an opening had begun a series of punishing jabs and sweeps, when unexpectedly through the force, came the feelings of intense pain and echoing screams of his beloved Sha'larla. She had, unknown to him who had become so fixated upon the danger he had sensed coming here, gone into labour and the moment of his daughter's birth communicated itself through their force bond. He staggered a little in shock; it was less than a second's distraction before he slammed the link shut.

Tulak Hord watched with incredulous eyes as the blow that would surely have removed his forearm slowed, the blade twitching aside the barest fraction as his opponent gave a momentary stagger. It was enough. His blade turned aside Kallig's own, sliding down its length and over the hilt as it slipped through his guard, taking Kallig's arm at the elbow. The orange blade shimmered and vanished as the dark sabre shut down, the hilt bouncing a little as it clattered on the floor. Hord followed through with his attack. Twisting his blade around through a smooth arc, it rose and swept back, only slowing a fraction as it met skin, muscle and bone.

Lord Kallig's body froze for one brief moment in time, poised in the act of recovering from the stumble before collapsing to the floor. The now severed head bouncing away.

"And so ends your dreams of power." Tulak Hord murmured. He was already drawing energy through the force to revive his aching muscles, the feelings of fatigue slowly fading. The anger and fear fell away. Though he was incapable of feeling remorse there was something that gnawed at him now. Now that he could look upon the results of his deed.

Turning he saw the awe struck faces of the watching guards. He pointed at random. "You! You will see to Lord Kallig's remains, ensure that they are treated honourably." Turning back to the corpse, Tulak spoke softly, the guards straining to hear his words. "You were my greatest rival, my greatest General and... My only friend." Lifting his gaze back to the guards, he addressed them directly. "He is to be buried with all the ceremony his rank and status demanded. You will ensure his tomb is the greatest ever built." Sweeping his hand over his hand at the guards he finally pointed at random to another. "You, you will see to it that a fleet is sent immediately to Ziost, to the estate of Lord Kallig. There, they will remove anything of value before razing the estate to the ground. I want no two stones left standing in the ruins, do you hear me! Not one stone is to remain balanced upon another. Is that understood?"

"You!" He stabbed a finger towards a third guard. "Summon my assassins; I have a task for them."

The men in question hurried away to do the Dark Lords bidding. No one felt any urge to question the orders, they had after all, just witnessed his wrath.

---

Kallig Estate, Planet Ziost

Six Days later

Lady Sha'larla Kallig sat quietly at the far end of the table in the small room being used for the meeting, with head bowed and shoulders slumped she stared disconsolately at the tables surface, ignoring the murmur of voices around her. Just six days before, a tired and sore Sha'larla had introduced her newborn infant daughter Su'lani to the staff and employees of the estate and the entire estate had become a scene of joyous celebration.

Now, those retainers who remained found themselves scrambling to pack up as much as they could before the deadline set by Admiral Groman expired. A great many also worried about their about their Mistress.

Less than half an hour before, a courier vessel, the fastest ship Captain Travis of Lord Kallig's Flagship could find, had arrived in system. Admiral Groman had responded immediately to the messages broadcast by that ship, landing more than six hundred troops that now formed a secure cordon around the frantic estate, before heading straight to a meeting with Lady Kallig and her staff.

The Admiral, along with his staff and the small staff of people most important to the running of the house and estate, sat or stood around the room. The large central table lay hidden beneath a covering of maps, photographs and notes while everyone watched as the Admiral and head butler finalized plans for the impending evacuation.

Admiral Groman spoke patiently, answering the question just asked in a firm but calm voice. "No, six, now five and a half hours is the absolute most I can give you for everyone to pack up whatever is important and essential and leave. Beyond that time we are looking at the very real possibility that an Imperial courier ship or worse, a squadron will arrive with direct orders for the local garrisons concerning Lady Kallig."

The head butler, a huge bear of a human named Francis De Beli'ere spoke into the silence that followed those words. "So it would be best to have everyone pack one bag immediately with just the bare essentials and have everyone who is going gather together. I think the great hall would be the best place to gather everyone; it is large enough to hold a couple of hundred people and has doors that lead directly onto the front lawns, where you have parked your transports.. I would like to try and bring with us certain items from around the house though; they may prove useful in the future for Lady Kallig and the rest of us."

"Yes, yes. Just remember the sooner we leave the safer we are going to be. Make sure everyone understands that. If they are not at the shuttles or evacuation point when it comes time to leave then they get left behind."

Both men nodded in unspoken agreement, immediately pulling out small communicators they proceeded to talk rapidly, giving terse instructions to their respective people.

The opening door turned heads as the green-skinned Twi'lik handmaiden to Sha'larla, Shawnie, swept into the room. The small happily gurgling bundle wrapped in her arms, brought gentle smiles to many of the faces. Shawnie headed straight for Sha'larla. "Feeding time milady." She called out, ignoring all others in the room.

Everyone's eyes moved to the older Lady Sha'larla Kallig whose quiet and immobile presence at the far end of the table had caused many to forget she was there.

When the Admiral had first arrived with the news that Lord Kallig was dead, slain by the hands of the Dark Lord himself, everyone had stared at the hollow faced Sha'larla in fear. The entire staff knew that over the last five days, she had wandered the house and estate sinking deeper and deeper into a dreadful fugue. Now they understood that in some unfathomable way she had already known that something terrible had befallen her husband, Lord Kallig.

The additional news that the Dark Lord, even as he had stood over the body of their murdered master, Sha'larla's husband, had summoned his assassins only to send them away minutes later had sent icy tendrils of fear racing down everyone's backs. No one knew what orders he had given to the assassins, no one wanted to be the first to find out.

The ever-cheerful Shawnie squatted down beside her mistress. She did not show it now, but she was deeply worried at her Lady's demeanour for the only time in these last few days that she had seen any signs of the strong personality that she knew the Lady Kallig to be, was brief moments like now, when the new mother held her infant daughter in her arms. Over the years they had known each other, they had established a bond of friendship, often time behaving like sisters in private.

It was because of that friendship that Shawnie, as she carefully watched Sha'larla bare a breast and begin feeding her daughter, thought upon the personal history that Sha'larla had revealed to her. Outside of the late Lord Kallig, she was probably the person who knew the most about the Sha'larla and Aloysius.

She remembered the conversation now.

"My past Shawnie, it's not really something that I talk about, why would you want to know?"

"Well, you know all about me and my mother and father, uncles, cousins and the rest of my family. You always ask how they are and remember important dates and yet you never talk about your family milady."

"Tch, what did I say about the milady maulk in private." They both laughed at her use of a baser word. "All right, the short version then." She paused a minute or two, staring out the windows at the tops of the frozen mountains far in the distance.

"My mother was a slave, my father unknown, Oh he could be anyone of a dozen men, my mother's master or any of his friends, for they all forced themselves upon her. I was born and my mother raised me as best she could, her master hated me though. I learned very quickly as a slave does to read the people who control the whip." Another pause as she looked inward to some buried memory. "I was fourteen when the Galactic Republic invaded, I say the Republic but they behaved more like mercenaries and brutes than a proud army. They crushed the local imperial garrison early in the fighting. My 'master' flew into a terrible panic when news came that the invaders were moving our way. He gave me and about two dozen other slaves to some minor noble who was determined to fight them. We wanted to run, some of us did run but we never got far. Shock collars are not fun Shawnie, and they can be modified to do more than just deliver simple shocks. My 'master' was one who would never pass up the chance to inflict pain on another so the collars we wore tapped directly into the nervous system." She had to pause to regain her composure. "This so called noble had us dig a trench across the main pass at the head of the valley and occupy it." She laughed bitterly. "For weapons he gave us pitchforks, hoes, scythes and other farm implements. However, no guns, never any guns. If we ran, and a few did as I said, he fried their nervous systems and left them to die in the open. 'Even the wild animals need to feed', he would say. The so-called defence of the valley went exactly as you would expect, we didn't have a chance and as for my 'master' and his friends? They ran, they abandoned everything and ran, leaving the rest of us behind to die at the hands of the invaders or by agonising electrocution from the damned shock collars, collars that they had set to prevent us from leaving the valley. I never knew what happened to my mother. I was only fourteen." Shawnie held her tightly as she wept, she wanted to make her stop talking but this was something more than history now. This was her Sha'larla exorcising the demons of the past, like a broken dam, the words would pour forth in a torrent until there was nothing remaining.

"Blaster fodder, that's all we were, blaster fodder. The invaders rolled through us with barely a pause. Some of us survived, taken prisoner. A few died before the invaders understood about the collars. They found them fascinating. It was terrible, horrible. We were entertainment for them. They made us do things." Shawnie listened in mounting horror to the description of the entertainments they performed unwillingly.

"Four days after they captured us, rescue came. Aloysius led an attack their bivouac. I remember watching the moons through the flap of the tent, I was praying for death. The pain from two broken legs is bad, the pain when someone take delight in grinding the splintered bones together is unbelievable and I must have passed out for the otaf'alkin had gone. I saw movement between the tents, shadows that moved slowly. When he paused in a gap between two tents, I saw his face he was beautiful. Tall, young and handsome, he looked like some ancient god in the moonlight. In his right hand, he held something and when he turned, I saw the hilt of a dark sabre clearly. I must have gasped or made a noise for he turned back." Shawnie remembered the way Sha'larla's voice changed the raw emotion it held. "He and the force with him went through that camp killing every one of scum. They took seven of us with them when they left. Shawnie, he carried me out of there himself. I felt safe in his arms; it was like he cast a spell upon me and for the first time in my life I felt at peace."

"It took months for my legs to heal, every day he would visit. Often he would just sit there beside me in cot. It felt... I cannot explain it Shawnie, it was as if we found peace from being in each other's presence. I found out from the troopers that his name was Aloysius Kallig, that he was an apprentice to a Darth killed by the invasion. The stories they told, it was like he was some General from ancient times brought back to life."

"The others recovered, we all wanted to help in any way we could. The troopers started teaching us how to fight, when to attack, when not to attack. We learned about movement, when to stay silent and still, how to put up cramp and pain for hours on end. We learned about weapons! You should have seen us Shawnie, they put real weapons in our hands and taught us how to use them. As for Aloysius, he would bring me data pads with field manuals on to read, and then test me on what I had read."

"We stayed in the mountains and slowly grew, picking up a few people here, a survivor or two there. Some days we lost people and others we buried. For five years he lead us, he would take brutalized, traumatized people and mould them into fighters. He turned a ragtag collection of Imperial Military survivors, civilians and slaves into the only effective resistance force on the planet."

"The Empire finally returned to reclaim the planet, a planet the Republic was only too willing to surrender. Their forces on the surface were completely demoralised and in such disarray that had almost ceased to be an effective force. He had harried and bleed them, from small strikes with no reason other than to be a pin prick to larger hit and run raids, to steal stores or free prisoners."

"Afterwards, after the Imperial Army and Navy returned had secured the planet, there came the press and media. Aloysius become an overnight sensation, a genuine hero of the Empire, but he did not care. He used the press and media, he used his success, the fame and the glory they lauded upon him and calling on the good will of the grateful Sector Governor, he offered all of us who had fought beside him, civilian and slave alike. To the civilians he offered a free trip to any other planet in the Empire, and a chance to begin anew. To the few remaining slaves, he offered us freedom and a similar choice. Freedom, a tiny stipend and a one-way trip journey to any planet within the Empire of our choice. Alternatively, we could have our freedom but enlist in the Imperial Military, in a unit directly under his command and after a term of five years, we could muster out honourably and find employment waiting for us on his small estate on Ziost. Not many remained to whom he made his offer, most of the civilians had fled already, and of the hundreds of remaining slaves, only a few handfuls joined the Military, and it was a better life than we had ever had before."

Shawnie watched attentively as her Lady burped her daughter. She caught the faint twitches of a smile around Sha'larla's mouth and eyes and sighed softly in gratitude and hope at the signs.

Her mind returned to her recollections.

"I loved it, the life of a soldier that is. The training was nothing, not after all those years in the mountains and the Drill Instructors hated that I knew about the standard weapons inventory, but I truly loved every single minute of it. It was as if I had finally found my place in life but there was something at the back of my mind that would appear, coming forth during the quiet moments and make me wonder. All that time spent with Aloysius stood me in good stead though and I rose through the ranks quickly. When my initial enlistment came up after five years I was willing and waiting to sign on again. I extended my enlistment another ten years. Hell after being a slave this was luxury. I was really enjoying it. I was good at it."

Shawnie remembered they had gotten giggly at that point, talking about some of the silly, stupid and occasionally downright dangerous assignments to which Sha'larla had been involved in.

"Oh Ryma'at, I had just been assigned to the garrison here on Ziost after being confirmed a Major when I meet Aloysius again." Shawnie observed the blush that crept down Sha'larla's neck as she stared into space. "I was out celebrating at a nice little restaurant near the Imperial Palace when he walked through the door. I don't know what my comrades thought when I spilt that red wine all over the table, I only had eyes for him. He had picked up a fine scar across his forehead by then and looked a little older but he was still gorgeous to my eyes. I think... I think my squeak attracted his attention for the next thing I knew he was there beside me offering a couple of napkins. I tell you Shawnie when our hands touch I thought the world stopped spinning. I don't know what happened but the next thing I remember was walking back to barracks arm in arm with him. We met again the next day and the next. Three weeks later, he asked me to dinner. We talked and talked. The invasion, his split from his family, my life as a slave, his training as a Sith, my training as a soldier, the letters we had exchanged in the times between. We were the last people to leave the restaurant, I'm sure the staff were glad to see the back of us, but with him being a Sith they were not going to disturb us. I don't think either of realised that was the start of our courtship. "She'd laughed at that point. "Aloysius told me years later that he had been more nervous asking me out than the first time he met the Emperor. Seven years, seven wonderful years we courted. It was my thirty-sixth birthday and he'd gotten us tickets to the Opera later in the evening while we enjoyed a meal at the Crimson Robe. Oh, Shawnie the Robe was everything they say it is, including the prices. We'd just finished dessert when he pulled out this wrapped box which he placed on the table in front of me. 'A surprise' he said. Shawnie I nearly died when I saw the bonding ring inside. We took our vows and were bound to each other within the month, my Commanding Officer walked me to the altar, I think the crusty old devil enjoyed himself."

Shawnie watched as Sha'larla tightened her arms around the one remaining shred of her murdered husband's flesh left to her. She almost fainted when Sha'larla reached out and gripped her hand, her eyes widening in shock as her Lady smiled directly at her and spoke in a near whisper. "Thank you Shawnie, thank you for remembering." Su'lani gurgled drawing both of their eyes downwards, while deep inside she wanted so desperately to scream, to rail against the universe, against the Dark Lord who had taken the heart and soul from her mistress, instead, she pushed it away, burying the anger and hatred as deeply as she could and focused upon the grieving woman before her.

---

Twenty-two minutes later

Admiral Groman stood to one side of the entrance hall of the house speaking in a raised voice to those around him and the logistics officer aboard his flagship through the communicator in his hand. The roar of a departing transport faded away outside as in the distance a rising scream indicated the descent of the next transport.

"... Going very well Admiral. We simply cleared the ships out of one of the large hanger bays and are temporarily storing the cargo crates there as soon as they are off loaded from the arriving transports. Turn around on the transports looks good with a twenty-five minutes cycle per craft, whoever thought to load the cargo aboard in standard cargo crates and shipping pallets helped speed up handling times greatly, as for the crews sir, they are all in good spirits. At this rate we can easily handle several more tons of material before expected time of departure."

"That's good news lieutenant, what of berthing for our passengers?"

"With the smaller than expected numbers you reported earlier Admiral, that problem solved itself. We have more than enough spare berths and some of the flight crews came forward and offered to sleep aboard the shuttles so as to free up beds."

"Splendid news, I'll give the crew my thanks when we get aboard."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate the gestu... Wait one. The Captain needs to speak with you Admiral, urgent."

The voice changed instantly to the Admiral's Flag Captain. "Admiral, we're out of time. A full squadron just came out of hyper light and are heading at full power for the planet. They are openly broadcasting arrest orders for Lady Kallig. On my authority I'm bringing the ships as low in orbit as can be risked, that will reduce transit times, but we need to go now sir."

"Defensive posture Captain, fire only if fired upon. I'll get everyone moving down here, Groman out."

Turning, he spat out instruction to those around him. Many headed off at a run to gather their people. Looking through the chain of troops and servants shifting packing crates around him he spotted the huge frame of the man he wanted.

"De Beli'ere! Yo, De Beli'ere." The man turned at the sound of his name. Spying the Admiral he trotted over, his face grim.

"Bad news, I take it?"

"They're here. A squadron of ships jumped in less than a minute ago and are broadcasting orders ahead of them for the arrest of Lady Kallig as they close on the planet. Stop whatever your people are doing and get them to the evacuation shuttles, it's time to leave."

"Frag, I thought... No, enough talk, I'll see to my people, you get her Ladyship." He spun on his heel, shouting out orders. All through the hall, the flow of crates stopped as estate workers and troops set them down quickly.

The Admiral took one last look before vanishing through the door leading deeper into the house, behind him now troopers headed out the other doors in an orderly trot while the workers scurried off in multiple directions to get family and friends.

Walking quickly along the plain passageway, he soon reached a guarded, heavy door. It had shocked him the first time he had seen this room, a very large and very full armoury, but a quick word from the Handmaiden Shawnie made him realise that Lady Kallig was an experienced solider who firmly believed in the old expression, 'superior firepower'.

Entering he was brought up short by the sight of Lady Kallig through the through the archway to a small firing range, where she was using the extra space of the twin firing lanes to exercise with an vibrant orange bladed dark sabre. She was slow, her movements stiff but for all that she handled the plasma based weapon with a confidence he could scarcely believe.

"A squadron's arrived in system, it's time to go." He spoke flatly. Watching as the blade curved a streak of light through the air before fading.

Shawnie held the tightly wrapped infant close to her bosom, a large bag hanging from one shoulder while a backpack almost half of height rested beside her. Lady Kallig stepped past patting her on the shoulder, the dark sabre now clipped to her hip and hoisted up a large and seriously nasty looking assault cannon from where it hung on the wall. She handled it with ease, as if it was feather light and Admiral Groman grunted in surprise for he knew just how heavy that weapon really was. Throughout this all, she had yet to say a word.

The room shook as the sound of a loud thump echoed throughout the building while plaster dust fell from the ceiling.

"Frag! That was a kinetic strike." One of the guards commented.

"We're out of time people! Move it, move it." The words came out as a shout.

Outside the screams of the scared and the wounded had already begun. The guards at the door started moving; they died without even knowing what attacked them.

With high-pitched whines, three stealth generators disengaged as the snap hiss of red bladed dark sabres announced the arrival of the Dark Lord's assassins. The other guards closed in around the Admiral, Lady Kallig, the handmaiden and child.

"Surrender the woman and you may, leave here alive." One of the hooded figures hissed from outside the room.

"Identify yourselves?" The Sergeant leading the guard squad barked out as he and the others pushed and shoved their charges behind whatever cover the benches and cabinets in the room afforded.

Ignoring the instruction, another voice hissed from the other side of the doorway. "The woman, the schutta Kallig. Give her to us or die with her. The Dark Lord commands it."

The third figure spoke then, its voice so silky and commanding that all within would have obeyed if they were not force resistant. "You merely delay the inevitable, would it not be preferable to save your own lives and hand Lady Kallig over to us. She will not care after all, if you die defending her, she uses you even now to protect her own life instead of facing us."

A sudden thunderous roar came from the assault cannon, making everyone flinch. Unnoticed during the posturing, Sha'larla had slipped to the side of the group. From here, she had a clear view of the door and the angle she knew would give little chance of a stray bolt reflecting back into the room. Caressing the twin triggers, nearly thirty plasma bolts tore through the open door. A wailing scream and muffled detonation informed her she had guessed right, even as one of the stealth generators worn by an assassin exploded from the bolt that had caught it. The explosion would have been fatal but the assassin in question had not already been missing part of their chest and stomach.

The guards leapt forward, moving to either side of the door, the last one trying to force everyone else, especially Sha'larla, back behind cover as the Sergeant tore a thermal grenade from his webbing before thumbing the activator and tossing it around the corner of the frame.

The grenade sailed back through the door a second later; Sha'larla reacted, dropping the cannon and with the force directing, pushed with her mind. A forcepush struck the grenade not a moment too soon. The flash and eruption of noise just outside the room, deafened everyone, the armoured wall behind which the Sergeant sheltered bowed inwards but did not fail.

A figure leapt into the room, twin bladed dark sabre alight and glowing evilly in the smoke left from by the grenade. With a backhand sweep, one of the guards fell, their chest slashed open. As the blade came around the voice hissed out once more. "So be it, die like the pathetic beings you are." The red blades reversed direction coming down and around towards the Sergeant while an outstretched hand slammed the Admiral backwards, over a bench to crash into the shelving of the rear wall.

An orange blade whined loudly as the front red blade slammed into it, two inches from the Sergeant's head and stopped. The Sergeant could only stare in terror at the blades frozen above him.

"Move you fool!" A woman screamed at him.

The scream motivated the man, who rolled violently away while trying to gather his wits and bring his weapon up.

Sha'larla screamed. "No more, you hear me! NO MORE!" The orange blade faded allowing the pressing red to continue forward suddenly, making the assassin stumble at this unexpected move. The snap hiss of its reactivation caused him to sweep the rear blade, even as he recovered his balance. "You kill my husband, then my people and now my guards! No more, do you hear me scum. NO! MORE!" The blade slashed left to right in a clumsy move.

"Well, well, the schutta thinks she can defeat an imperial assassin can she. Come, dance for me schutta!" It attacked, blade twirling in a spinning dance of death that stopped just as suddenly as Sha'larla's blade executed a perfect block and riposte.

Sha'larla danced, the old moves returning to her from days she tried for so long to forget. However, there was something else in her movements, her earlier clumsiness and stiffness dropped away as the force flowed through her, guiding her actions. She felt the anger, the hate welling up from inside herself and tempting though it was to surrender all control to it she knew that way lead to her death, instead she accepted it as a part of herself, a part that held great power but also utter chaos. It twisted and beat at her at control but the force flowed around it, through it and amplified by it. She blanked her mind and in doing so felt a gentle touch. A loving touch that she desperately hungered for again, for one tiny moment she felt his caress upon her cheek and then her limbs moved to his music.

Words drifted through her mind. "I will always love you my little krath kitten."

The orange blade emitted from the hilt gripped firmly in her hands now began a dance of death. The assassin cried out as a flick of the tip removed part of the hood he wore revealing the pale features of a Miralukan. That tip had missed his throat and ear by a millimetre.

"You want me to dance, killer? Then I will dance for you. It will be the last dance you will ever see."

He gawked as her force aura washed over him and backpedalled madly away from the woman. Her features serene, her movements pure flowing liquid and most scary of all, her closed eyes as she brushed his thrusts and jabs aside as though she were merely swatting flies.

The guards tried to get around her but the sight of that dancing, flashing orange blade moving so swiftly as to leave faintly glowing trails in the air persuaded them that the better course of action was instead to protect her back.

"Come now, you wanted me and here I am." Her head tilted and moved up slowly as a sly grin spread upon her lips. "Or are you not man enough to take what you wanted?"

With a snarl, he lashed out through the force and watched in shock as the force wave simply dissipated into nothing.

The building shook as another dull roar, rumbled through it.

A sudden pain froze him in mid movement; he looked down upon the sight of that orange blade buried deep in his groin. It jerked up and he squealed, a sound that suddenly cut short as his head exploded from bolt fired from the holdout blaster held steadily in Shawnie's hand.

Shawnie spoke softly, fighting hard not to throw up at the sight of the ruin, she had caused. "I thought he would never shut up."

Another rumble came as the building shook once more.

"Come on; let's get the frag out of her." The Sergeant screamed from behind them all.

They pounded down the corridor and out into the entrance hall to face a scene of total chaos. Instantly the Admiral began shouting orders, faces turned losing some of their panic at the sound of authority.

"QUIET! STOP SCREAMING! YOU! What the frag do you think you are doing?" In moments order returned as the experienced voices of the Admiral and Sergeant spoke out.

A hurried discussion with a Corporal by the great doors revealed four shuttles destroyed in the landing area while three others had suffered minor damage; the pilots of two more had simply panicked and fled as the first kinetic strike had struck the estate grounds. The others had lifted off and now danced in a drifting ballet of complex movements intended to deceive the targeting system of the incoming star ships.

"We've lost people Admiral, as much from the ground strikes as panic, sir. Some just took off running; others have vanished in the chaos. For what's its worth Admiral, I strongly recommend just grabbing who we can and getting the hell out of here."

"Damn it, I promised I'd take them all..." He waved away the objections from the others while taking a moment to think. "We're out of time, split the civilians up into groups, one trooper in command of each, no more than fifteen civilians per group and as soon as the next strike hits, the first group ready runs for the shuttles."

Two strikes hit on the far side of the estate as soon as he finished speaking, grimacing he slapped the Sergeant on the shoulder. The man nodded and vanished into the press of the crowded hall. Looking around once more Admiral Groman nodded in satisfaction as the crowd quickly broke down into the required groups. Turning back to the doors, he caught the glitter of tears upon Lady Kallig's face. Opening his mouth to speak he instead closed it again, something deep inside told him that the words were unnecessary.

The next strike came in with an almighty crash, the doors opened and the Sergeant with his group ran out through the smoke and still falling dirt. One of the hovering shuttles observed them and touched down, doors open and boarding ramp out and waiting. As soon as the last person ran up the ramp, the engines boosted and the shuttle lifted clear. Even before the ramp swung closed, the pilot was accelerating hard, turning away from the estate in a shallow climbing bank, a climb that became steeper and steeper until the shuttle pointed its nose straight up and the pilot pushed the throttle hard against the gate.

He watched the second and third groups run for the pickup zone. The forth group never made it; a strike struck less than ten metres from group of running people. When the dust and haze cleared enough all that remained was an indescribable ruin of flesh and torn bodies. His troopers grabbed people and spoke calmly, quelling the incipient panic.

Without looking, he spoke to those around him. "Time to go people, stay close and whatever happens, do not stop until you're stepping onto the decks of the Repulse." A man crouched down beside him, turning he gasped and grasped the man by the shoulder. "De Beli'ere! I thought you were dead or gone already?"

"No Admiral, merely delayed." They watched the second to last group vanish through the doors. "I hear tell we had an intruder or two, no problems I take it though?"

"No, her Ladyship took offence." He stared hard at the man and squeezed his shoulder again. "She's more aware, more like her old self now; something happened back there, something I don't understand."

"Well, now's not the time to discuss it I think... Admiral... My people, Lord Kallig's people?"

"We got as many as we could find out before the bombing started, since then..." He shrugged. "It's whoever was here. We're the last."

The shoulders slumped and the man took several deep breaths. "Well then, what are we waiting for?"

"Head's up people. On the count of three, run like the hounds of hell are chasing you and I'll see you on the dark side."

The ground shook violently with the next strike accompanied by the sound of exploding stone and timber, shrieking steel and the entire building bounced on its foundations.

"Holy Sith! They hit the house!"

"Forget it and run. RUN!"

Throwing the doors wide open, they ran in a loose formation towards the four remaining shuttles. "De Beli'ere go right, take the right shuttle."

He did not bother to listen for an acknowledgement, he just ran for the beckoning hatch of the left hand shuttle. Feet pounded a tattoo upon the steel decking as he literally ran into the webbing harness of the seat; he turned in time to see the Load Master catch Lady Kallig before she ran head first into the bulkhead. The memory of what happened next, he carried with him until the day he died.

The world outside the rising hatch turned a blinding white.

The shuttle seemed to flip over, he watched as a trooper trying to secure herself was torn bodily from the unlocked harness and hurled the length of the shuttle as the shuttle shook and rang like a bell struck by a hammer. Loose gear and people tumbled everywhere, the door to the pilot's compartment crashed open so he clearly heard the pilots screaming and swearing at the forces that gripped the shuttle. The view beyond the armoured ports turned from white into the yellow and orange of the expanding fireball from the energy release.

Sha'larla hung on to the harness straps with a death grip. She desperately wanted time, time to accept the changes in her life, time to come to terms with the lose and grief she felt, time to accept she was a mother and time to accept that she would never be safe in the Empire again. The calmness of the voice that came over the speakers in the pilot's compartment was so at odds with the violence of the tumbling shuttle. She focused upon it. "Raptor Lead to Raptor 19 we have the child, report your situation, I say again, Raptor 19 report your situation."

"FRAG! We've lost the number two power unit." The man seated on the right cried out ignoring the communicator.

"Aero controls are bottoming out, feels like we lost the port aerofoil. I have little to no response on the aero surfaces, switching to RCS thrusters, still no response, switching to RCS backup. Boost units three and four, try and compensate!"

"Red line on units one and four, unit three's showing sixty-three percent and dropping fast. We're farkled."

"Like hell we are. Bring up the emergency unit; get ready to push everything to the gate."

"You're nuts! That'll kill us all for sure."

"Oh really! I don't hear you coming up with any bright ideas Bantha brain. On my mark hit it; give me every erg of power you got, hell cut life support and feed that to the system too."

"This is nuts!" The man on the left grinned as he spoke, doing exactly what the other asked.

The man in the right seat screamed over his shoulder. "Everybody BRACE, BRACE, BRACE! Hit it!"

The shuttle groan loudly, as anyone and anything not secured headed towards the rear of the shuttle. A noise she could only compare to a herd of stampeding Bantha's rose, becoming louder and louder. "Come on baby, come on. Just hold it together baby, just hold it together. That's it, that's it, just a little more."

"Raptor Lead to Raptor 19, report your sit... HOLY MAULK!"

Ten minutes later the shuttle limped through the ray shield over the landing bay. It was missing an upper airfoil while the underside of the wings and the entire rear of the shuttle showed massive carbon scoring and the black discolouration that only comes from being too close to intense heat. All of it caused by the energy released during the kinetic missile strikes' near miss.

Throughout the bay, speakers clicked to life. "Admiral Groman and Lady Kallig arriving." The words were drowned out by the cheering from waiting civilians and crew members.

---

NOTES:

Revised 2nd April 2014

This is, I hope, the final revision of the prologue to Kalligs Legacy.

I was never completely satisfied with the flow and pacing so went back and revised it.

I hope you find it reads better now.