Out past the edge of the Trailing Sectors, deep in the Outer Rim, was a vast, pinkish cloud many light years across, full of protostars and noisy pulsars brighter than a hundred suns. Rogue asteroids tumbled about in random fashion, some as large as small moons, and radioactive clouds of dust and ash were everywhere—a remnant from the start past when a supernova created the nebula in less than a second.
Riddling the depths of the nebula like a Geonosian hive were labyrinthine "corridors" of clear space that twisted around n countless switchbacks, branches, and dead-ends. Electrostatic volatility occasionally manifested in titanic electrical discharges whose purplish of lightning were as big around as a frigate, especially if a ship were to pass too close to the edges of the pinkish clouds. Some corridors narrowed dangerously, making such a discharge almost a certainty; others lead to the areas of intense electrical storms stirred up by the solar flares of nearby protostars.
Deep within the nebula was a huge, dense asteroid field known as the Protean Drift. Roughly spherical in shape, and several million kilometers thick, at its heart lay the Hollows, a bubble of clear space surrounding a white dwarf star known as Gyros. The darkness made the glitter of the many thousands of ships scattered throughout the Hollows very apparent. Ore haulers, transports, and heavily armed corvettes and light cruisers made up the bulk of the traffic within the Hollows, many of them old and normally only found in starship junkyards and museums. Also present, though, were Old Republic-era cruisers, dreadnoughts, and other archaic, even ancient, warships that had long ago passed into obsolescence; some of the ships hadn't been seen plying the space lanes in centuries.
The Hollows teemed with activity as the ore haulers and transports came and went from the zero-gee refineries and manufactories stationed on the edge of asteroid field. Many of these operations were built right into the asteroids, and the largest of them spanned a dozen or more asteroids strung together by durasteel struts and girders.
Through this activity, moving towards a massive asteroid in orbit around the star was an old Venator-class Star Destroyer. Rather odd in appearance, it had numerous knobby hull-plates all over its surface, and its twin conning towers joined into a large chevron-like superstructure angled forward. Emblazoned on the upper sides of its hull was a strange segmented blue-and-white triangle atop a white circle emblem.
Home at last, Talus thought to himself, gazing out from the darkened bridge of the Ion Tide. It was the last time he would command the Venator as his flagship. He folded his hands behind his back and continued his vigil out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran from one side of the bridge to the other. He wore the white and blue uniform of the Alderaanian Navy, and his rank board showed him to be a Fleet Admiral, the equivalent of a Grand Moff in the Empire.
A man who looked to be in his thirties, Talus had dark brown eyes that looked out from an angular, slightly gaunt face. They weren't cruel eyes, but they looked far older and more care-worn than fit his face. There wasn't a trace of gray in his short, dark brown hair or in his neatly-groomed and closely-trimmed beard and mustache.
"ETA to the Nexus in ten minutes," a Nautolan navigator announced.
"Keep us straight and level, Lieutenant," he replied. Creshwon was a fine navigator who would be coming with when he assumed command of his new flagshipwaiting up ahead for him.
"Aye, sir. Maintaining course heading and attitude."
"Nexus reports that all is ready, sir," Sami said. A tracked droid with a treaded, wedge-shaped base, a spindly body with long, skinny arms, and a rectangular, box-shaped head, he held the rank of Lieutenant Commander and was the ship's Chief Communications officer. He, too, would be coming aboard the new flagship. "She is standing by if you wish to communicate."
The new flagship was docked at the Nexus, the heart of their operations built into a massive asteroid 4.3 kilometers wide that closely orbited Gyros. The ship had taken two years of round-the-clock rebuilding from the bottom up and had cost more money than the GDP of a third-world planet, but was more powerful than an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer.
Moda stepped up next to him. She wore the form of a red-skinned Twi'lek with vibrant blue eyes that matched her uniform, when she actually remembered to wear it. Today, at least, she had. Her rank black showed her to be a Lieutenant Commander as well, and she was the ship's Chief Engineer as well as the creative force behind the rebuilding and re-engineering of the new flagship.
"Good morning," he said, glancing at her. He was glad to see her fully dressed; sometimes, she left buttons undone or had them buttoned wrong.
She tugged at the front of her uniform as she looked down and glared. "I think the laundry droids are shrinking my uniform again," she grumbled.
The uniform did seem to strain against her chest, though she was by no means buxom. "You still have to wear one," he said quietly, knowing what she was getting after.
She scowled. "So much for the human phrase, 'Rank hath privilege,'" she muttered darkly. She grabbed her breasts in both hands and glared at him. "If I didn't have these in such plentitude," she snapped, shaking them, "it wouldn't be an issue!" She tapped her chin thoughtfully, "I'd be able to do my job a lot easier because I wouldn't have to squeeze through ductwork."
He hid a smile. "All these years, and you're only now complaining about your form? Tsk, tsk, tsk."
She glanced behind them, making sure no one was around, and then leaned imperceptibly closer and whispered, "Get pulsed." She maintained her scowl for a moment, then a smile touched her lips. "Sir."
Talus laughed. "I chose the form nearest at hand, and time was of the essence. I couldn't risk cognitive damage."
"I know," she sighed. "Granted, this form has grown on me, but—"
"And you have grown into that form as well," he said, grinning.
She shot him a suspicious stare. "Was that sarcasm?"
"Not at all."
"Hmph." She crossed her arms and returned her stare to the bow of the ship. "So, have you decided upon a name for our ship, yet?"
"Our ship?" He glanced at her, smiling at her use of the possessive plural.
She grinned back defiantly. "That's right. Our ship. I helped design it."
"I'm not sure that's how it works."
"It is, now."
"I see. Well, I was thinking of naming our ship, Bright Defender."
"Huh."
"You don't approve?"
"I would have thought you would have named it something more aggressive."
"I have no desire to emulate the Empire, if that is your meaning."
She shrugged, though it was slow and awkward; she still hadn't managed to make the motion look natural. "Our ship will crush anything they can field."
"Imperial dreadnoughts and the Praetors are bigger."
"Regardless," she said. "They're slower and have less fire power."
"We're trying to avoid confrontation, remember?"
"I suppose," she scoffed. "The Ion Tide will remain here?"
"Yes. It's being assigned as the flagship for the Ion Defense Fleet." He looked at her. "Something on your mind, Lieutenant?"
"No." Her lekku twitched nervously. It was too natural a motion for her to have done it consciously.
She's learning to lie, he thought in amusement. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she answered quickly, refusing to look at him. "So, who is going to be the Captain of the Ion Tide?"
"Angling for a new posting?"
She flinched and her eyes widened as she stared at him. "No!" she yelped, touching his arm briefly, then jerking it back as though she'd been burned. She quickly looked around the bridge as if to make sure no one had seen her, and by the scowl on her face, it was a good thing no one had. "I mean, no, sir," she said more quietly. "I just, er, I want to, um," she stammered, her lekku twitching again.
He touched her shoulder briefly. "Relax, Yoda," he said quietly. "Where I go, you will go, too."
She gripped the railing in front of the window as the tension drained out of her. "Thank you, Talus," she whispered.
He smiled. "Did you really think I would leave you behind?" he asked. "You should know me better than that by now. As for who I'll appoint as Captain, I was calculating the variables and Beshten seems to be at the top of the list."
"The Kel Dor?"
"That's him. I think he's memorized the entire Encyclopedia Galactica on historical military knowledge and tactics. He'll be the most successful at that posting." He was rather fond of Beshten. As CIC, or Commander-In-Chief, of the Vega Nebula, Beshten would be enormously useful in protecting the Nexus. "I'll be taking Sami and Creshwon, too."
"Good. At least there will be some familiar faces."
Poor Moda, he thought. After he'd rescued her from a Devaronian pirate named Kith K'bar, she'd latched onto him and had followed him everywhere, refusing to allow him out of her sight. She'd been traumatized by the pirate for years, and for the first year, had said nothing to anyone, not even him. She'd just stare around, wide-eyed with fright, and if he looked like he was going somewhere, she'd be right by his side. It had taken years for her to recover and start actual conversations like this one, or allowing him out of her sight for more than thirty seconds at a time. She still had social adjustment issues—her chafing at being made to wear a uniform was just one such symptom. Another was her impatience and acerbic personality, though she never behaved that way towards him.
"Are you ready to test out the new engineering bay?" he asked.
"I can't wait to see how the AEDS works."
The AEDS, or Active Energy Dissipation Shroud, had been engineered into the new flagship and was co-designed by Moda herself, along with Sami and the Nexus. Built around the engines and reactor core of the ship, the shrouds were made of an exotic ceramic impregnated with quartz crystal that was attuned to resonate with the exact inverse frequency of the energy fields thrown off by the ship. In theory, this meant that they would cancel out the engine "noise" that was normally detected by sensors, rendering the ship "invisible" to all but those capable of measuring fluctuations in gravity as the huge mass of a ship would pass by.
The trade-off, however, was that all other external sources of energy noise had to be shut down—weapons, active sensors, running lights, and all shields, including particle shields that protected the ship from high-velocity micrometeoroids and dust. However, when the AEDS was active, thick durasteel shudders would slide over all windows, airlocks, and other vital areas to protect them. Heat would quickly build up, so they couldn't stay hidden forever, and they would be essentially flying blind, or severely myopic, at the least. Passive sensors would still function, but their range was extremely limited.
This new technology was the direct result of the need to sneak past Imperial monitoring beacons scattered along all the major hyperspace lanes. As long as they stayed out of visual range, they would be able to move freely about the galaxy as ranged gravitometric sensor arrays were as rare as they were expensive.
"It will work just fine," he reassured her. They'd run countless simulations and tests, and everything looked like it would work.
"I take pride in being vindicated after years of arguing against know-nothing clankers."
"I remember a time when you wouldn't have had the courage to put forth such a radical idea."
"Times change."
He raised an eyebrow.
She grinned faintly.
Together, they watched as the new flagship went from a distant white spec in geostationary orbit around Nexus to a breathtaking view of all its glory. The Bright Defender was an extensively modified and re-built Munificent-class frigate, far more heavily armed and armored than anything seen during the Clone Wars. It's oversized engines stuck out like a sore thumb, but gave it a thrust-to-mass ratio nearly twice that of an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer, and her regenerative shields were more powerful than anything in the Imperial fleet.
It also had something no Munificent-class ever had: most of the cargo space underneath its forward, "turtle shell" hull had been converted to hold starfighters and auxiliary ships. 108 SX-1A Sabrefighters, 72 Vulture-class droid starfighters, a GS-100 salvage ship called the Positron, and Talus' own personal transport, a Dynamic-class freighter named Midnight Rider.
Its starfighter complement, combined with the ship's powerful jamming array, meant that any Imperial TIE fighters that tried to swarm would be easy picking for its point-defense weapons while Sabrefighters and Vulture-class droid starfighters would pound the Imperials forces. When it was time to slip away, their state-of-the-art navicomputer would sequester them faster than a Duro hyperspace scout.
Nothing would escape from the Bright Defender to alert the Imperials to their existence, nothing could be allowed to escape. It was the best-kept secret in the galaxy, and it would stay that way. Only one person had ever escaped, and soon, she, too, would fall into their hands.
Moda must have been thinking along similar lines. "Do you think we'll be able to catch her in that?" she asked, nodding towards the Bright Defender.
"Time is on our side," he assured her. "All we have to do is be patient. Our spies are everywhere."
She grinned. "I can't wait to get my hands on that little—"
"We need her alive, Moda."
"But we should interrogate her to find out if she's told anyone what she saw. You don't think she's just going to volunteer that information, do you?"
"The only person she might have told is dead," he explained patiently. "Besides, she's a slave—who is going to believe her?"
"That doesn't answer my question."
He turned to face her. "Yes, she will tell us everything. There is no need to physically or chemically compel her when we have a far more valuable tool to make her talk."
Her grin was back. "The girl."
"Exactly."
"We'll be taking along her stasis pod, then?" She rubbed her hands together in anticipation, but like her other gestures, it was slow and not quite natural.
"Precisely. I'll leave her in your care but," he said, holding up a finger, "no damaging her. Leave her in the stasis pod until we can utilize her."
Once the Ion Tide had been turned over to Beshten, the Kel Dor handed him a code cylinder with a red ring around its end, indicating that it was high-priority. Talus accepted it and congratulated the captain on his new posting.
Afterwards, at the turbolift, he touched the code cylinder and asked, "I wonder what this is about?"
"Probably more of your fugitive Jedi," was Moda's response.
"Doubtful." The turbolift door opened and they got in. He pressed the button that would take them to the flight deck, and the door closed. He'd been hunting and tracking Jedi and other Force users ever since the end of the Clone Wars. "This is coded as high-priority, and the Nexus would't use that designation if it was Jedi."
"The empire has been a little too successful in tracking them down." She shook her head. "It's been fifteen years since the Clone Wars ended, and there can't be many of them left."
"There's a few that the Inquisitorius hasn't found yet, and it's not just them. There's also the Bounty Hunter's guild, and countless do-gooders brainwashed by Imperial propaganda. Alderaan is a hold out, thank the Maker." He would be very disappointed if his home world bought into Palpatine's lies.
"There's also Vader."
"A mysterious figure indeed. He just appeared out of nowhere, it seems. Who is he? I wonder." He shook his head, a habit he had picked up centuries ago from his previous and only master. "If only there was a way we could experience the Force ourselves. Vivisection on test subjects is distasteful, and can only teach so much."
"Why not just apprehend a few and bring them in for questioning?"
He laughed. "You don't just bring in a few Jedi, not like that." Besides how dangerous they could be, what if they had been spotted and were already being tracked by the Empire? Or even worse, what if they're secretly working for the Empire? A Jedi who did not want to be caught or brought in could potentially cause far too much damage, and besides, he wanted them alive. "It's too risky to reveal ourselves at this time. When the time is right, we want them to come to us."
"If you wait too long, the Empire may finish them off," she scoffed. "What about that one you were tracking? Kyros Sandan?"
"He is in the Outer Rim, only a few hundred light years from here, as a matter of fact." A human, Sandan was very good at hiding, and had a natural flair for passing himself off as anything other than a Jedi. There was an image of him wielding an ultraviolet lightsaber—unique among the Jedi from what little Talus was able to glean. Sandan was probably their best option for first-contact, but they had to be very careful. The situation would have to be controlled; if Sandan refused to become an ally, there was a probability he may have to be neutralized to prevent the secret of their existence from getting out. They already had one leak; they didn't need another.
The turbolift door opened, revealing a long flight deck with hangar bays lining its sides. Crewmen were already beginning to board shuttles that would transfer them to the Bright Defender, while other shuttles were being disembarked by the new captain's crew. Talus, however, walked to his private hangar where the Midnight Rider sat.
A hobby ship, Talus had owned the old Dynamic-class freighter for centuries and had bought it new off the line. In that time, he'd added numerous modifications. Flat black with electric blue highlights, it was rough-and-tumble looking on the outside, but on the inside it was posh and outfitted in luxury. Plush carpeting, exotic wood paneling, and nerf leather upholstery. There were numerous oil paintings, a large aquarium, and a bookshelf with actual books, as well as a large holoprojector tied to the ship's hypertransceiver, and several potted fern plants from different worlds.
"Ugly as a rancor's rear end," was Moda's assessment.
He chuckled. "Trying out new insults?"
She grinned. "Not bad, right?"
The trip to the Bright Defender was a short one. On the flight deck of his new flagship, there was a large yellow circle with Midnight Rider written across it in the small, triangular symbols of Metroglyphic, a binary-based language that very few in the entire galaxy knew.
Stretching out high above them was the underside of the "turtle-shell" hull, lit with yellowish-white spot lights. Clinging there like so many hawkbats roosting were the starfighters; the inner surface of the hull had been re-engineered with special docking clamps that held the starfighters in place, and they were accessed via caged ladders and catwalks that ran in parallel rows between the fighters.
Next to the berth area for the Midnight Rider was another ship, the Positron, a Gallofree GS-100 salvage hauler used to board enemy ships once they'd been disabled. Two more empty circles were next in line for shuttles and other transports to land as needed.
Two red-lacquered B1 battle droids with golden trim lines waited outside the Midnight Rider's circle for them. They were armed with heavy blaster rifles and were much more robust-looking than their Clone Wars counterparts. One stepped forward as soon as Talus and Moda came down the boarding ramp. "We've been assigned as your personal guard, sir," it said, saluting.
"By whom?" Talus asked.
"By the Nexus, sir."
"I should have guessed. How many are there of you aboard?"
"A platoon, sir."
Fifty-six elite Ion Troopers he'd have to find room for later when they picked up their full complement of battle droids in the Aos system. "Come along, then," he said, heading into the ship through the large blast doors at the far end of the flight deck, towards the center of the ship. "I'll expect a squad of you to guard the Lieutenant Commander here as well."
"As you wish, sir. I have stationed four more on the bridge, with the remainder guarding vital areas of the ship. My designation is Bee-One-Dash-Six-Aurek, and my counterpart here is Bee-One-Dash-Thirty-Two-Cee."
"Chatty little thing, isn't he?" Moda muttered under her breath.
They proceeded through the corridors, which were busy as the crew made final preparations to get underway. There were still crates of supplies piled in corners and along the bulkheads, and numerous astromechs rolled around, tweaking minor systems and doing last-last minute adjustments. Along the bulkheads at shoulder height were more Metroglyphic inscriptions, strangely possessed of a certain aesthetic beauty, though they only gave directions to various locations within the ship and identified different areas.
Though she still had a hard time imitating many emotions, Talus knew how proud she was of this ship. That was of the few emotions that came through strongly for her. As they boarded a turbolift and headed up to the superstructure on top of the ship where the bridge and officer quarters were located, she grinned as she noticed him looking at her.
"Let's go check out our quarters and see what this message is before we get underway," Talus suggested. "And you can quit attempting to grin smugly. You did a fine job on this vessel, but gloating is frowned upon in civilized circles."
The bridge was just below the level containing the officer quarters on the top floor of the superstructure. The two levels were separated by a balcony-like deck that protruded out two meters, as did the "roof," making the outer bulkheads look recessed. Unlike on a normal Munificent-class frigate, this "balcony" was enclosed by a wall of transparisteel, offering an incredible vista that was accessible only from the commanding officers' quarters.
Moda's quarters were next to his, naturally, with a connecting door between the two suites. They were exceptionally large, with a four meter square sitting room, connected sleeping quarters, and each with a private refresher room. The sitting room's bulkhead opposite of the entrance to the suite was a wall-to-wall bank of windows looking out onto the balcony, accessible by a thin-frame airlock door.
The sleeping quarters were unnecessary for them as they never slept, but if they were to blend in properly, they must at least give the illusion of being normal. Still, everything was orderly in their quarters, down to every last fold of the bed's covers and the placement of collected miscellanea such as books, statuettes and paintings.
Most of Talus' things were still in a cargo bay down in the belly of the ship, so the quarters contained only generic props. Once he got settled in, though, he would replace the props with his own possessions. What really intrigued him was the view offered by the balcony, which is where he wound up.
"Have you examined the code cylinder yet?" Moda asked eagerly.
"This is eyes-only." He held up the code cylinder.
"Yes. I plan to use my eyes to see it."
He raised an eye brow, but said nothing as he pulled out his datapad and inserted the code cylinder.
Data scrolled across the screen, along with an image of a young, blue-skinned Twi'lek woman that had been taken with a telephoto lens.
NOVA ALERT—PRIORITY RED
CODED TRANSMISSION FOR IDF FLEET ADMIRAL—EYES ONLY
NOT FOR GENERAL CIRCULATION; SEQ13149827
INTELLIGENCE REPORT FROM FIELD OPERATIVE 10011110110011 TO NEXUS
ARCHIVE NO. A1017543
RETRANSMITTED PER SPEC-OP PROTOCOL 31C FROM NEXUS TO SOLAR CHARIOT
STATUS: PENDING
ADM/71
INTELLIGENCE REPORT FOLLOWS:
Target Aurek, AKA Mik'aventuura AKA Mika Ventuura; Age 24; Height 164.2 cm; Weight 57 kg; Eyes D. Brown; Species Twi'lek Subspecies Rutian (Blue); Description Suspected Force-user last seen on Lianna in Allied Tion Sector, Outer Rim, accompanied by known human Force user, Cal Sharra, former Jedi and member of Jensaari tradition.
Target has been spotted on Denon REPEAT Denon, located at confluence of the Hydian Way and Corellian Run, in lower levels of district known as the Gnaw, at the Blue Nebula Cantina. Sighting is confirmed REPEAT confirmed. Use extreme caution—the Blue Nebula is a known front company of the Black Sun criminal syndicate. Approach with caution: target is suspected Force user. Non-lethal containment is prioritized.
END REPORT
He laughed. "Oh, we've got you now, Miss Ventuura," he said, handing his datapad to Moda. "We have another asset on Denon that works in the Blue Nebula that we can activate. Good thing I took an interest in the Black Sun."
Moda shared his grin. "You took an interest in everything," she scoffed. "Now, all we have to do is pick up the Togruta girl on Aos-five and get to Denon."
He activated his comlink. "Commander Enthate," he said, addressing the Senior Commander and First Officer, a dark-skinned human with a shaved head and round, pleasant face. "How long until we are ready to depart?"
"Three hours, twenty-two minutes, sir," came the response.
"As soon as we are ready, we are to proceed with all haste to the Aos system."
"Aye, sir."
He shut off the comlink. "Just enough time for you to give me a tour," he told Moda.
"My pleasure, Admiral," she said, her grin softening into a warm smile.
Taking her arm, he smiled back. With the Ventuura woman captured, the Ion Ascendancy would fade back into the shadows once more, unseen by the galaxy, and just the way he preferred it.