*Authors Note before we begin: all the ships used in this story are going to be from Star Wars, be it Legends, Canon, or Fanon. If anyone is curious as to what they all look like, a quick Google Images search will show you what they are. i tried to post the pics on here, but un... they wouldn't let me do it. For obscure fanon ships, like the one i am using from CalamitySK, i'll put in a link to a picture or, if lucky, a video by Spacedock or Metanerdz*
Episode 1
Experiment Task Force 214 "Aquila"
The familiar roar of TIE engines filled the skies above Kinooine, a rocky world of crags and broken dreams. Orbital bombardment by two strange Star Destroyer designs peppered the ground in front of the entrance to a pirate base while TiE Fighters and Interceptors fought with the squadron of broken down Liberator starfighters. They were no match for the freshly made TiE squadrons.
In the chaos on the ground, troopers and walkers, embarked on the planet by a relic of a Acclamator, marched on the base. The puny defense cannons the pirates have were no match for the firepower of raw Imperial power in the form of AT-ST's, AT-AT's, AT-TE's, and TX-130 Saber-class fighter tanks.
The battle was already won for the Imperials- the next move was the final nail in the coffin. From the clouds came down a strange looking Nebulon Frigate, but... this one was strange in its design. It was far, far larger then any regular Nebulon should be. It was also strangely designed and heavily armored, with a hanger in the middle where the exposed keel should be.
Out from that hanger came a squadron of TiE Bombers, along with its escort of Interceptors. The Fighters and a single Tie Reaper stayed behind to guard their mothership. Heading the squadron was a sleek and smooth ship that should belong in another time. The ship and the Bombers strafed over a Corona-Class Frigate and dropped their payload, destroying the saucers before moving on towards the base.
My task force was a small, but powerful one. It was established before i even joined the Imperial Academy. Experimental Task Force 214, otherwise known as Task Force Aquila. It was modest in its size, which was to be expected... our work isn't part of any Imperial guidelines. At Grand Moff Tarken's behest, the task force i would one day command was to be the testing grounds for a few experimental new designs and weaponry for the Imperial Armada. The Interdictors everyone hates so much: those were tested by us. ... i can see i made a lot of people very unhappy with that reveal.
Anyway... about a year after i took command, we received several new prototypes that they believed to be beneficial to the Fleet. The first, which was my flagship, is a new type of Nebulon called a Nebulon K, brought to me by Moff Seerdon. The designer wishes to remain anonymous, going by a nickname named Calamity, but he had created a... interesting design for a Nebulon.
Now, when people hear the name Nebulon, they immediately think of a frigate with a thin, spindly frame that should not even be able to fly. Well, the designer was able to work around the short comings and create something interesting. The design schematics should be visible to all.
monsterlord-18/art/Nebulon-K-S-Variant-Capital-Ship-866208409
"It looks like any other ordinary Nebulon frigate. It's more filled out and armored, but it looks like any other Nebulon. How is this one different?"
It's bigger. All Nebulons are roughly 325 meters in length, 72 meters wide, and 166 meters tall, right? Well, the designer supersized it. It has the same dimensions of a Star Destroyer- 1681 meters long and the front of the ship is 301 meters tall. The section where that exposed keel would be- it's now a well armored hanger. Running all the way from the beginning of the engine block, all the way towards the beginning of the communique block, and it's spacious to boot. Due to the composition of my fleet, it holds a squadron of transports and at least three squadrons- one of each class: Fighters, Interceptors, Bombers. And do you see that line black line running down the middle? That's the main flight deck- tall enough to house a Corellian Corvette, giant engine block and all. Above that is the resting bay for the Ties and below are the transport holds.
"Why would he design it to be bigger?"
It was Seerdon's idea, actually. He wanted to see if smaller vessels can be made into a, lack of a better term, "Super" sized command vessel. Nicknamed the "S" Project, it's an experiment to see if small ships like the Nebulon can work if they are sized up to be on par with Capital Ships like the Imperial Class Star Destroyer or one of the Mon Cala Liberty ships. The Nebulon-K was the only "S" variant ship, at least as far as i was aware of.
But it's thanks to all this extra space that Calamity was able to make some interesting additions and changes. The designer, who mind you is a loyal Imperial, was tired of all the dark, soulless interiors, and so... running behind those two forward guns and towards the large tower, is an Oasis.
"An Oasis?! on a Imperial vessel?!"
Yep. Calamity took inspiration from the Oasis' found on Mon Cala ships and designed ours as such. It even comes with a little cantina. The designer made such an impassioned speech to the Emperor and Seerdon about how even people in the Imperial Navy need to relax and unwind, he thought approved the design. So not only is this Super Nebulon a test-bed for a new design and a new possible ship variant, but also for a new fixture that could improve moral and lessen stress, and since he went with a tropical island theme, it certainly did its job.
"Seems... interesting, to say the least."
Yep... the Tidal Requiem was one hell of a ship. If i had my way, i would've been buried in it.
"As for you, Commander, your files of your past have been difficult to track down."
That's because they were destroyed, along with all the other fires of my loyal crew when we jumped. If you wish, i'll move this along by giving a quick summery of my past.
Like i said at the beginning, I was born on Corellia and lived a comfortable life with my parents and 3 siblings, and before you ask, none of them are in any military programs: my father worked as a cargo hauler and my mother a doctor. My brother and sister took up the family trade and my other brother- my twin- moved to Alderaan with his daughter.
... since perjury would land me a worse sentence, i should come right out and say it. My family... was in the smuggling business. While i was in the academy, our grandfather died and we were passed down several ships and items that my family has used for... well over 3600 years at this point. Old, i know, but if they are still functional after this long, something went right.
My siblings got most of the good stuff. What i got... i wouldn't call her the best ship, but it is the most reliable: A XS Stock Light Freighter named the Viscount. She's not the strongest ship, but she is the fastest and broke down the least, and I've used her to make... several deep-cover operations a breeze... not to mention do some non-discreet runs. Off the record, of course.
"You ran smuggling operations while in the Imperial Navy?"
That's the family business for ya... once you think you are out, it pulls you back in. Azzameen went through the same damn thing.
"You said you were a test ground for experimental ships, and the way you spoke suggested there were more. Was this strange ship leading the Bomber squadron one of them?"
I had a couple, and yes it was. The most prominent experimental ship, and the one leading the Bombers. was a new type of stealth ship that can serve long-range reconnaissance and sabotage while also serving as a spacious shuttle. A X-70B Phantom. We were serving as its testing ground as its stealth systems were tested. They are nasty customers, packing powerful weapons, and engines fast enough to outpace a A-Wing and a Tie Interceptor.
Apparently, the designer for that ship was inspired by a similar frame he saw in the archives. He had lofty goals, planning on turning it into the Emperor's Personal Shuttle if given the chance. ... i could see the Emperor riding in this, not gonna lie.
"While on the subject of ships, was this... Super Nebulon the only ship under your command? Because when this tribunal started, you mentioned you had a task force."
I do. A couple of my more used ships were relics: they were both Acclamators.
But since i had total oversight over this task force, i was able to make some modifications to the two Acclamators. One of them, i retrofitted to be purely a warship- that thing was covered in so many weapons and hanger bays, it could've been declared a mini dreadnaught. I changed so much, i gave it a new ship classification- a Proclamator.
I had another experimental ship class called the Incursor, which was support for the other two. From what the old guard tell me, it was supposed to be the original design for the Imperial Class, but they didn't go with it- they mothballed the design until someone pulled it out. I can see why, though.
The Prosecutor- which is the Proclamator- dealt with space defense, the Defiant- the untouched Acclamator- was for ground ops, and the Cantwell- that's the Incursor- provided support for both.
The Phantom strafed over the saucer and dropped its payload of Proton Bombs. The TiE Bombers behind followed suit. The sustained beating from the bombs tore through the hull and blew it to atoms. The squadron continued on towards the base. With both air and ground defenses taken care of, there was nothing to stop them from bombing the base into rubble... but they weren't going to. At least, not until they were given the order.
The command bridge for the Nebulon-K was far more spacious then the regular Imperial style would allow- oversight of super-sizing a frigate, i suppose. And that is where I came in. From the turbolift i disembarked, walking onto the bridge with a cool and collected demeanor. This wasn't my first battle, and it wasn't to be my last either, but i knew how to play the enemy. They...
"Admiral, is this going to be a long-winded spiel of you hyping yourself up?"
Would you rather this went in the third person?
"Yes. At least then we'd be able to move on faster then what you may have planned."
Very well. But you need someone who was there to do it.
"That's alright. We have the security footage from all the cameras across your service. Not to mention the records from your droid.
... from Henry...?
The familiar whine of the Turbolift descended from on high to the command bridge below. When it opened, Admiral Col Serra came off from it. While his scraggy hair and five'o'clock shadow did not keep to Imperial code, his uniform was pristine, with his many medals adorning the right breast. He came out the lift with his arms behind his back, watching his crew as they worked effortlessly. They have worked together for years, and like a well-maintained machine, their routines produce results.
Col approached the front of the bridge and looked out the windows to the battle below. He saw the saucer break apart and the squadron move on towards the base. "I see the battle is going well."
That is when i, his loyal Protocol Droid, approached him: H3-N47, Human-Cyborg Relations, although the crew refer to me as Henry as my designation resembles the name. "It does indeed. We've lost several AT-PT's and a couple Interceptors, but the pirates were so poorly prepared, their losses greatly outnumber ours by a 30 to 1 margin."
"At that point, i'd feel sorry for the pirates." Lady Trace, Admiral Serra's second in command, said as she came up to his side. She looked to him, knowing what he had in store. "Same as before?"
"Indeed." He motioned to the main communications officer, who nodded and prepared a microphone for him to speak after contacting their secret weapon. He walked back towards the center of the lowered rows and dropped his coat. The officer handed him the microphone as they heard a sonic boom nearby. Out the window, Trace and I watched as our Vigil-Class cruiser sped towards the pirate base. It was heavily customized to serve as our main communications ship within our fleet.
"Think it'll work on this crowd?" Trace asked as she walked to him with arms crossed. "They don't seem to be very smart."
"It'll work." He said as the Vigil came to a stop above the base and tapped into the Pirate communications without even breaking a sweat. "You just need to speak the language."
Within the Pirate base and in all their fighters, Serra's hologram came on before them. When the Imperial forces saw the Vigil, they knew what was going on and ceased firing.
"{Attention, losers. This is Admiral Col Serra of the Empire. As you can see, we're pretty much kicked your butts all the way from here to Coruscant and back again. I am giving you one chance to surrender and end this without any further bloodshed. Surrender and you will live. You will be shipped off to a mining colony on Glee Anselm, but you will live. Refuse... well, you saw what happened to your buddies. To the fighter craft who surrender, power down your weapons and return to your base. Ground forces, do the same. You have five minutes. Hope you make the right choice.}"
I cannot lie. Admiral Serra's method of captaining and negotiations were... unorthodox, to say the least. How he commands and how he talks is completely against Imperial procedure... and yet, he always gets the job done, and with high remarks too. The brass may complain, but they cannot deny his results. It must come from his background, being the son of smugglers from Corellia.
And miraculously, it worked. The pirates, knowing they were outnumbered and outmatched, powered down their weapons and surrendered- the thought of mining on a tropical planet was enticing, i hear. Several resisted, of course, but a few Ion shots put them to sleep. "That worked out well." He said to himself. "Send word to the Revelator- we got another haul to Glee Anselm."
Trace let loose a tsk as she slowly shook her head as Serra handed the microphone back to their communications specialist before going to contact the Revelator. "You have a way with people. Does smooth-talking come in the Smuggler's handbook?"
"Hilarious, but not that far off." He walked back towards the window and watched the proceedings down below. "Snuggling does have its benefits, and the tricks it teaches can last you for life. In order to get the best deal, or to get yourself out of a nasty situation, you need to learn how to be smooth in the negotiations or end up getting the short end of the stick."
"Something you have personal experience with?"
"No, my Uncle Salion. He wasn't the best negotiator in the family."
"What happened to him?"
"I'll let you know when we find him."
A rumble overhead signaled that the transport ship had arrived. Passing over the Tidal Requiem came a Lictor-class Dungeon Ship. Originally of Mandalorian design, the Lictors have become wide-spread prison ships, and for good reason. Their armor is rated highly, its prisoner load is impressive, and they are easy to produce. Must be why the Mandalorians kept using them even after their defeat in the Mandalorian Wars 4000 years ago. A standard procedure with Lictors is that they only have two sets of coordinates: their homeworld and their destination. This is so if prisoners do overtake the ship, they're left with only two options. The captain and the second have code cylinders that hold the rest of the galaxy's coordinates, but what prisoner is going to know that?
"And there she is right now." Serra said as he and Trace watched it fly towards the surface. "Have the Prosecutor and Cantwell set up perimeters around the base, then order the troops to return to the Defiant and the TiE's back to their ships. Leave 3 percent behind to make sure the pirates do surrender." He stepped back, then turned to head back to the main turbolift.
"And where are you going?" Trace asked.
"Lavatory. I had one too many Bespin Fizz's and it's doing some damage."
I did say the admiral was unorthodox, didn't i? He's also overtly crass and a bit of a drunkard when he's not on duty.
Traitor.
As the Prosecutor and the Cantwell , along with their accompanying squadrons of TiE's, moved to take positions around the base, the Vigil, which was just called Vigil because nobody bothered to name it, flew back up towards the skies, taking up position by the Requiem. Trailing behind it where the Bombers and the Phantom the Super Nebulon had launched.
The TiE's and experimental stealth shuttle broke away from the Vigil and moved towards the main hanger entrance. There was one on either side, wide enough for seven full TiE Bombers to squeeze in at once, and high enough for a Corellian Corvette or a GR-75 to fit through.
When they flew through the port-entrance, the ships entered a rather spacious hanger system, with docking bays and landing pads on the sides for smaller transports like one of the YT series. The Bombers flew up towards the Racks up above and attached, which then moved high above, moving like a conveyer belt through three square holes that would normally be closed.
The hanger system in the Tidal Requiem works like this: that black stripe that runs down the middle of the ship? That is the main hanger floor, which is large enough to hold a GR-75 and a Corellian Corvette end to end- why that's our unit of measurement will be revealed in time. The segment above the main floor is where we house all our fighter craft; they are maintained and repaired in that location. The same holds true for our transports and ground vehicles- they get the lower section and are brought up to the main floor via lifts.
The main hanger of the Tidal Requiem can hold a wide variety of ships, as you will later learn. The fighter portion of the hanger is estimated to hold up to 91 fighter craft. A very large size, especially when considering the Imperial-Class Destroyer, to which the Requiem shares the same size with mind you, can only carry 72 TiEs at a time. But at the time, our fighter capabilities were limited. Since the Prosecutor was our designated fighter carrier, we only had three squadrons onboard, one of each TiE Variant- 15 Fighters, 15 Bombers, and 15 Interceptors. There were some old Clone Wars era vessels; ARC-170's, ETA-2's, and V-Wings, but they were mothballed since there were no parts to replace what they had lost, but Admiral Serra keeps them around, feeling they will be useful someday. At the time, they just took up space.
As for the transport section, we had the standard compliment: a trio of Lambda Shuttles and a trio of Sentinel Shuttles, and some Loader Shuttles to drop off Walkers, and even some salvaged LAAT/i Gunships leftover from the Acclamator. As for our ground vehicles, that was where we were lacking. Like the Prosecutor, with the Defiant as our primary ground transport, we had a small compliment. Four AT-ST's, 2 AT-AT's, and a small army of AT-PT's, along with a small amount of specialized craft like a APC or two. At the time, they were just gathering mothballs, so the walkers served little more then guards, protecting the entrances on either side of the hanger- if boarders needed to get to the bridge or the engines, they had to go through them first. They were all on lifts, so if we needed to fill out the main hanger bay, they could be lowered.
The Phantom, when it flew on, turned a different direction and went towards the engine block. The area between the hanger entrance and the engines were the cargo hold, as well as the hanger space for the experimental ships under their usage, along with any personal ships any of the crew may've kept or acquired. There were twelve landing pads, six on both sides, all of which installed above the main deck so that foot traffic and cargo haulers could flow uninterrupted.
The Phantom landed on the landing pad opposite of Col Serra's personal vessel, the Stock Freighter he inherited from his grandfather. It had so many names over the years, but it is currently called the Familial Legacy, due to how long his family has used it. On the pad beside that was Lady Trace's personal ship, a Sorosuub Luxury Yacht 3000 named the Dragon's Tooth. It was her brothers, and since he had no family when he died other then her, she acquired it.
The entry ramp lowered and the pilot descended, removing the helmet. Larissa exhaled as she took in a breath of the artificial air. Undoing her hairbun, her long, thick, wavy locks of blonde flowed. "Ok..." She exhaled, turning to look at the vessel she piloted. "Test flight wasn't so bad..." She approached a lift and pressed a button, descending down to the main hanger floor. As she waited, she pulled out a datapad and quickly wrote a report, jotting down what she thought of the ship after its maiden voyage into battle. "I could see the Emperor using this craft someday..."
The lift reached the main floor just as the Fighters and Interceptors began to file in. She pressed a button on the wall beside her, calling for another lift, this one to ferry her across the hanger towards the living section. There were dozens of such lifts all over; it is a long hanger bay.
One Interceptor slowed and turned to face her, hovering in place. She rolled her eyes and kept on writing her report. "{You weren't that bad out there, LT.}" A chuckling voice said over her helmets radio. "{Guess the Prototype is starting to come up to snuff.}"
"Don't even try buttering up to me, Jayce. It never works." She couldn't hear it, but she could feel that he was pouting. "And how can it be already coming up to snuff? This was its first flight."
"{First flight with us. Besides, it's a bit oversized for a bomber.}"
"It's not a bomber, it's a stealth ship that can function as a attack shuttle, one that may become the Emperor's personal craft someday."
"{That's a bit overzealous.}"
The lift arrived and Larissa climbed aboard. "Tell that to the creator." One last button press and she was on her way towards the showroom, the middle section where all the ships are sorted; fighters go up, transports go down, and repair and fabrication bays are activated. There wasn't much to repair or fabricate. They only lost several fighters, and they were from the Prosecutor. There were a dozen bays on both walls, housing weapon modification stations, recharge stations, and critical repairs.
Up in the fightercraft storage bay, pilots were disembarking from their ships as they clicked into their assigned slots, glad to finally be done with this mission.
Jayce's Interceptor was one of the last ones up and rolled off the belt and onto its designated rack. The hatch hissed open and the ace pilot of the fleet climbed out. He took off his helmet and exhaled, wiping of his brow. His entire face was covered with scars. He got into some nasty scuffles. "What a day..." He exhaled. He spun around and slid off onto the catwalk behind his TiE. He is supposed to climb the ladder above the hatch to the ball, but he was too pooped to care.
"You're complaining about a successful mission?" One of the pilots asked as she walked past.
"I'm not complaining." He said as he walked beside her. "I'm just exhausted. I got no sleep last night and it affected my performance."
"I thought our flying was tip-top, sir. You weren't wobbling."
"Not the kind of performance i was talking about." It took a moment for the pilot to realize what he meant, but when she did, she gave him a hostile glare. Too bad he didn't see it as he kept on walking while she froze in place to deliver the death stare. That doesn't mean he can't sense when it's being given- he's gotten enough to know when it's in use. "And you can stop with the glare- not gonna affect me." She stopped, grumbling to herself as she walked down the same catwalk as him.
Rifles, pistols, and launchers were all tossed into a pile by the pirates as the Stormtroopers and AT-PT's watched. The remaining walkers and troopers not on watch detail were returning to the Defiant.
Standing at the foot of one of the ramps was the captain of the ship and the commander of the ground forces, who was tallying who and what was coming aboard the ship. His loyal second in command approached him, having just received a fresh wound on his arm that required a cast. "Got hurt, Veers?" The captain asked.
"Ah, a pirate got lucky with a blaster bolt. I'll be ok. What of you, Captain?"
"I didn't get hit, though my Walker got hit pretty bad." He gestured over to the AT-AT that was struggling to get up the ramps, with tow cables from other AT-AT's helping it up. Sparks and smoke came out of many parts. This was a old beast that has seen a number of battles over the 19 some-odd years, much like its commander. Most commanders would've tossed it aside for a fresh one. Not Gefere- he sees this as his good luck charm. He's used this baby ever since the annexation of Kashyyyk a couple years after the formation of the Empire. "Gonna need a lot of repairs back at the Harbor." Veers nodded in agreement. "And so far, it doesn't look like we lost anyone or anything."
"Were the pirates so disorganized, they allowed us to, pardon my vernacular, walk all over them?"
"Pretty much, yeah. To them, we appeared out of nowhere and just wrecked shop." He closed the pad and turned to his second. "Yet another tally on Admiral Serra's win board."
"This has to be his 7th successful campaign in the month."
"4th, actually. He's not counting Barkhesh."
Veers looked away, remembering how awful that mission was. What was supposed to be a simple intimidation mission turned bad. Really bad. "Right..." He then walked past Gefere and headed up the ramp, feeling his arm getting itchy under the cast.
As the imprisoned pirates were being boarded onto the Lictor, one of the pirates high up in the hierarchal food chain, glared right towards Gefere. His target was selected. He will get back at him for ruining everything. The first chance he gets, the old man is going to die. His glare lasted a little too long, and so he was pushed inside at the butt end of a E-11.
Relieved, Serra came out of the lavatory with the sound of rushing water coming from the room behind him. Drying his hands with a towel, which he promptly tossed in the nearest laundry bin, he turned to head back to the bridge.
A sharp ringing echoed through his ears, making him hold his hand over his left eye as he walked. He hunched his head over for a moment, but kept going, even as the world briefly turned white around him. As he lifted his head from his hand, he saw himself, more scraggly and gruff looking, dressed in atypical smuggler garb. His left eye was swollen shut and a scar over his right.
The world seemed to slow as the two Serra's looked at each other- the Imperial Serra was visibly confused as the Smuggler Serra kept on going with a stern look. The moment the Imperial one put his foot down, the white backdrop disappeared and his Smuggler other vanished into thin air.
This has happened off and on for the past year and a half now, and it still puzzles him every single time. What the hell is all this about? What is the point of it all? Why is it even happening in the first place? Questions that may never get answered.
"{Admiral, the Lictor is preparing to leave with the Pirate prisoners.}" Trace's voice said over the intercom.
Serra shook his head, clearing his mind before pressing a button on the wall beside him to reply. "Very well, Trace. Send the Cantwell with it as escort, then take us back to Abregado."
"{And the base?}"
"We'll leave a token task force to scour it for anything useful: weapons, supplies, information. Once they have cleaned it from top to bottom, have them set charges to level it."
"{Yes sir.}"
Putting what briefly happened aside from his mind, Serra composed himself and went back to the bridge.
Fully loaded with the entire Pirate horde, the Lictor rose up into the skies and took off towards the clouds, with the Cantwell following not far behind. The two ships passed by the Requiem and the other ships in their little fleet as they turned to head in the opposite direction to Abregado Rae.
The hatch to the bridge opened and Serra came on board, rubbing his forehead. Trace turned to look at him and cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "Bad time in the lavatory?"
"No..." He sighed. Nobody would believe him about it anyway. "Just a sudden headache..."
"Like you said, too many Bespin Fizz's."
He breathlessly chuckled. "Heh... true. Possibly a delayed hangover." He looked out the windows and watched as the clouds shifted past as they rose into space. "First thing i'm gonna do when we get back is get a massage... i feel like i need it."
"Putting a pause in this story, Admiral... you operated out of Abregado-Rae? I thought they were Anti-Empire."
They were, but they put up with us because we weren't strict rule followers. I chose Abregado-Rae location because it was in the middle of a major Hyperspace Lane, and smack dab in the middle on the known map, which provided a good open corridor to the southern Outer Rim. And the planet is a known shadowport, so operating out of there stifled smuggling. At least at the time, i did.
"Admiral, that is a lie. We have reports from the time that say you operated out of a casino."
...way to spoil the fun. Yes, i operated out of a casino... which was also a resort, but that didn't come until much, much later.
"Seems you operated outside of the Empire's rules, Admiral. They wouldn't allow this."
I did. But i got results- a near flawless record. What i was doing with my troops was working and the Emperor recognized that, which is why he allowed me to operate this way. You have to remember that i was raised on Corellia. I know what gets people motivated, and i knew how to get them motivated. Soldiers and pilots and mechanics- they're only organic, and they require something to let off steam and recharge.
"This is all just riveting information, but what does this have to do with the Jerni and the Rishi Maze?"
You'll get the information, i assure you. Trust me: everything that has to be said is important.
"You're gonna take your time with your storytelling so you can delay the verdict, aren't you?"
Am i that transparent?
Once the Tidal Requiem, Prosecutor, Defiant, and Vigil flew past the planets only moon, they jumped to hyperspace, with nobody aware of how important this first part of their tale would be, or what strange events they would be a part of.
On the other side of the moon, the Lictor and Cantwell jumped as well. If they had stayed just a few seconds longer, their radars would've picked up a strange signal coming from the moon's surface... a signal that was strangely like a heartbeat. The signal moved away from the moon and towards the planet's surface- to the pirate base.
"Admiral Serra, looking ahead a bit, i see that Henry's logs leading up to the incident are very, very long, and very detailed, going into things that don't really have much to do with this tribunal. Does any of what he put have anything to do with the incident with the Jerni?"
It's all connected, believe me. Anything that may seem superfluous has everything to do with the Jerni. Think of this as those long, story-driven dramas on the Holonet. You gotta sit through a lot of boring talking bits to get to the good stuff that drives the plot forward.
"Sigh... this is gonna be a long day..."
