CHAPTER ONE

18 BBY – SAPHROTHAN SPACE, ON THE GHOSTCRUISER STARFIRE

Captain Adega Aramys was on edge like she'd rarely been in all of her ten years of service to the Saphrothan Fleet that protected the security of her hidden home world. An alarm had been called, nearly eighty-percent of galactic spies recalled – the only reason she was out with her crew in their Shiin-class Ghostcruiser was as a precaution.

The Sith had risen. Two – one to possess the power, one to covet it. The very thought of those creatures rising to power again chilled her to the bone – but it was something that every senior officer was prepared for, Fleet or Home.

Senator Palpatine of Naboo, of all beings – now Emperor, she snarled to herself – and a new, mysterious apprentice that they'd not been aware of up until now. Someone none of them would have suspected – someone the Coruscanti Jedi had no chance of expecting.

Anakin Skywalker. War-hero, freed child slave . . . his dossier had been made public knowledge the very moment they'd received word from Kathis Ashri, Monitor for Coruscant that his conversion and ascension to Palpatine's hand had taken place.

His Sith name: Darth Vader. His preferred manner of execution? Face-to-face, he would use the Force to crush your windpipe, suffocate you. Two spies returning from Coruscant had already seen it firsthand.

Force help them all . . . That was a little more detail than Aramys had been comfortable with, but the details were part of her job. She'd deal with it.

"Sir!" Ensign Kelki Morr, the Chadra-Fan surveillance officer aboard the Starfire Shadow called out from her station. "We have heavy debris coming up on our present course. It's not rock." Morr was suddenly silent.

The silence was worrying. "Bring the ship closer. Let's see it."

The Twi'lek navigational officer Liria Kah nodded, tabbing in the navigation coordinates and bringing the ship to a full stop – and uttered a little cry as she beheld what the Shadow's sensors had picked up. "Force help us!"

It was a mass graveyard.

In the dead of space, bodies from several races drifted. Bags of luggage floated past, seats, pieces of hull. A passenger cruiser, then. There were black scorch markings on the pieces of hull – the unmistakable sign of battle.

"Scan for survivors, now!" Aramys barked.

"Scanning . . ." Morr punched in the commands.

Aramys reached out through the Force with her own senses, desperately reaching, reaching – and a vicious gash of pain and cold opened up suddenly in her chest. "Kah, turn over navigation to my console." She sat down .

Liria glanced askance at her Captain – it was an odd request – but did so without hesitation even as she did.

Aramys brought the ship cautiously forward.

"Captain, if we're seen here security could be compromised." Morr's black eyes watched her superior officer with worry.

"I know," Aramys snapped. "Come on . . . . there." She suddenly snapped up straight, her eyes searching.

Morr caught her breath. "Escape pod! Engaging tractor beam."

A long moment passed.

Then a proximity alarm sounded.

"Morr?"

"We have intruders coming around the elliptical of Surtur. They are one minute, five seconds from sensor range."

"Kriffing hell! Get that pod in here!"

"Captain, the gravitational forces of Surtur are warping the beam!" Morr was furiously punching at buttons, refocusing the beam and trying to slip it clear of gravity long enough to stably grab the pod.

Morr had a temper and it hit flash point within seconds. "Stinking son of a half-breed Hutt! You grab that sithing pod now, you-" and she trailed off into her native Chadra-Fan, cursing violently and slapping her little fists into the console numerous times as she jumped up and down on her chair.

As amusing as Morr's temper was, they didn't have much time.

"Morr!" Aramys roared, breaking the Chadra-Fan's tirade off in mid-shriek.

"Got it. This whoring bastard child of a space slug and a Sarlacc's got a lock but I don't know for how long." She checked another reading on an undamaged part of the console. "We've got thirty-five seconds!" she hissed.

"Kah! Get us ready to jump home the minute the pod's in our bay."

Liria's dark eyes narrowed and she nodded.

"Got it! Go go go go!" Morr yelled.

Liria's hands flicked like lightning over her console, then pulled the lever down. The stars stretched into lines . . . and then they were clear.

Aramys sighed. "Kriffing ten stinking hells. I'll be in the docking back . . . to see if there are any survivors. Hopefully, we were nothing more than a ghost on the other ship's scanners."

Liria and Morr nodded. "We'll keep an eye on things here," the Twi'lek woman said.

"Good," Aramys nodded, turning to go – and then she stopped.

"By the way Morr, that was a good job," she said. "But the cost of repairing that console is still coming out of your salary."

The sound of Morr's creative cursing following her down the hallway almost made Aramys smile. She'd have to drop a report off to the admirals when they got home – there shouldn't be any ships in this area right now. It could just be some freelance passenger or cargo freighter, a smuggler, maybe . . . but it was better to be careful.

Ambrakksha was dreaming. She was curled into Yarapwyca's great, furry arms. Her Wookie guardian was crooning a lullaby to her. They sat in the middle of a great desert, and that was strange. Yarapwyca had never sung to her in the place she and her aya – her mother – had run to in the Hapes Cluster. They had stayed as long as they could before escaping a breath's distance ahead of the Hapan soldiers. Brave, amazing Yarapwyca had never survived to see the pretty desert. A cold pain lanced through her chest and she felt hot tears slip down her cheeks.

She knew her mother was also dead.

She was all alone now. It was a terrible thing for an eleven year old child to know.

Suddenly, the pain in her chest was hotter. Ambrakksha thrashed against it, trying to push it away. She was dead too, wasn't she? She had gotten away in the escape pod before the ship had blown up, but it had been too long.

Wait. Her mother had put her in the encounter suit. Maybe she wasn't dead?

You're not dead yet, little one. There is still much for you to do, brave and bright things to make your mommy and daddy proud of you. Open your eyes, Ambrraksha.

Ambrraksha opened her eyes. There was a breather mask over her face and she could hear the sound of a heartbeat monitor. The lights were low and comfortable, but she could feel the stretcher beneath her moving forward at a rapid pace. Soothing voices spoke to her, gently checked her vitals, cleaned the cut on her head and bandaged it.

She was awake. She was alive.

What was she supposed to do now?