Silence, darkness and complete isolation. Nothing more and nothing less could be perceived in the depths of the space of the outer rim. But that changed from one second to the next when, out of nowhere, a Conductor-class-Shuttle stepped out of hyperspace with humming engines.
With his arms folded behind his back, Shanaron Canbrig stood in front of the viewport of the small, rectangular ship painted silver and red, surrounded by several Republic soldiers in their typical red and yellow uniform. Behind him stood a small Nautolan, his assistant Yotramdon Foss. He himself wore a white lab coat, the standard clothing of a researcher, and small glasses. His short gray hair was combed back and covered the sides of his ears, which began with a bushy beard. Relief literally spread through him when he finally discovered the destination of their long flight between the helmets of the two pilots. The blue-green surface of Belkadan, covered with white haze.
A planet discovered only a few decades ago, which may be due to its very remote location at the very end of the galaxy. To date, no one has traveled to the empty space that lies behind it, as there are no known hyperspace routes that lead out of the galaxy, which is why this part of the universe quickly became uninteresting for most people and was ultimately forgotten .
But as remote as Belkadan was, the reason Shanaron and his team were here was just as important.
"Is everything ready for landing?" the human asked in a tone that clearly conveyed his existing authority.
"Landing permission received, sir. Now start with the approach. Entry into the atmosphere will take place in three minutes," reported the shuttle pilot.
Shanaron nodded happily. "Secure the cargo and then prepare to land," he addressed the Republic soldiers behind him.
Without hesitation, they went into the cargo hold to carry out the order.
Hiding his tension, Shanaron sat down in his seat, adjusted his white lab coat, and buckled his seatbelt.
In all the years he had spent at the research station on this peripheral planet, he had never been confronted with a mission like this. So important that he even had command over soldiers, who were placed at his disposal by the Supreme Commander of the Galactic Republic, the Sullustan Breen Brull himself. But that was exactly what was needed. Ultimately, this was about the security of the republic and maintaining peace.
"Now starting the approach," the pilot reported.
"Good. Fly carefully and be careful not to jerk too much. After all, our little trip shouldn't have been in vain," he admonished the man.
Thanks to the Force, however, everything worked without any problems as they entered the humid atmosphere of the jungle planet and fifteen minutes later they were already on their landing approach. Despite poor visibility due to the haze, this went smoothly thanks to good coordination. When the shuttle touched down on the Durabeton platform surrounded by jungle, Shanaron quickly ran into the cargo hold to collect a silver suitcase with the cargo in question. Then all crew members went to the ramp, which opened with a slight hissing sound.
The sight that confronted Shanaron only made him even more uncertain. The landing platform was full of expectant research colleagues who were anxiously waiting to see whether they would receive good news or a sobering report of failure. He also spotted a few Republican soldiers among the sea of white lab coats.
In other words, all their hopes for peace and security rested on him, and even if he would immediately announce the success of this mission and thus bring relief for the time being, the success of the project was far from assured.
Come on, you've already done the hardest part. Don't put pressure on yourself. What could possibly go wrong now?
His words helped him to compose himself a little, but the sweat was still streaming from his forehead.
"Is everything okay, sir?" came the gentle voice of Yotramdon next to him. He nervously looked down at the man twenty centimeters shorter than him. Was his fear already so obvious?
"What are we waiting for?" asked Yotramdon.
Shanaron dismissed this with a slight blink and a brief shake of his head.
"It's nothing," he replied. "Let's go. Lieutenant!"
He nodded briefly to him and then started moving. Beside him, Yotramdon trotted down the ramp, four soldiers accompanying them on either side. In his right hand, Shanaron held a silver suitcase and when he reached the bottom of the landing platform he raised it into the air and shouted: "Comrades, brave soldiers, citizens of the Republic! I hereby announce the complete success of our mission!"
Relief immediately spread and the tension around him relaxed as he heard the shouts of joy from everyone present.
But Shanaron didn't want to waste time cheering now. It wasn't done yet.
"Come with me," he said to Yotramdon.
Without saying another word, the two of them made their way into a large hall in the back center of the laboratory complex until they stood in front of the thickly armored and multiple secured durasteel door of a vault.
With a short code entry at the terminal next to it, the door opened and inside the square room with white durasteel walls there was a one and a half meter high metal cylinder. Shanaron quickly opened it with a key card and when the metal cover was pushed aside, small slots appeared, obviously intended for ampoules.
The scientist placed the suitcase on the floor, opened it and was finally able to take a look at its contents again after their long flight. The material for which they carried out this entire mission, which was supposed to bring security to the Republic. Twelve glass ampoules, all filled to the brim with blood. The yellow blood of a Duinuogwuin, an intelligent, dragon-like species thought lost since their brief conflict with the Republic over ten thousand years ago, with the exception of lesser-known individuals such as the Jedi Master Willm Lywin. Recently, however, traders accidentally discovered a copy in the Belderone system. The Republic then saw its chance to raise an army of these to deter potential enemies. After the last war against Exar Kun and his armies, the Republic's military was still busy rebuilding and the Jedi Order also had to rehabilitate itself from this conflict, which is why the Senate approved the creation of such an army and the researchers of Belkadan were assigned with this task. So a group of scientists and some soldiers went there to get blood samples from the Star Dragon and use them to clone as large an army as possible.
The basis for the technology required for cloning was handed down over five hundred years ago by a Republic expedition after they discovered the planet Kamino, where it was already perfected. Even if the Kaminoans did not agree to teach them anything about cloning, they were at least able to bring some data with them, which meant that the first functional cloning cylinder could only be created half a century ago. However, despite this, cloning was still in its early stages and therefore could not be carried out on such a large scale in a very short period of time. With current knowledge, growing an army would take years.
Shanaron attached the vials to their slots, closed the cylinder, and left the safe with Yotramdon.
"When are we going to start this?" asked the young Nautolan with obvious eagerness.
"In the next few days," Shanaron replied sternly. "As I said, there's no rush. We will first have to carry out some tests with our systems and check everything again before we tackle this. After all, nothing shall go wrong here, so we'll take the time we need."
"But shouldn't we hurry anyway? After all, this project's primary purpose is to deter enemies."
Shanaron praised his assistant's zeal, determination and sense of duty, but it seemed he still needed to learn to make sensible decisions and be more patient.
"Calm down. If there was a threat of conflict in the near future, there would have been signs long ago. Additionally, even with our growth accelerators, it will still take eight years for the dragons to be ready. So be patient a little longer. After all, we can't go into this without preparation," he lectured the Nautolan as he closed the door.
"Yes, sir," Yotramdon said, slightly annoyed.
Although Shanaron didn't miss the disrespectful tone in his voice, he decided to just ignore it.
They spent the rest of the way through the white, narrow corridors of the complex without saying a word to each other until they finally reached the door of Shanaron's quarters.
"I'm going to rest now," he announced. "You should do that too. We have a long flight behind us and a busy day ahead of us. You should be well rested."
Without saying a word, Yotramdon nodded his tentacled head and headed for his room.
Shanaron watched him go for a moment, but then went into his room and closed the door by pressing the button inside. Yawning, he took off his lab coat and briefly looked at himself in the mirror, which he had provided himself, since the nine square meter rooms were otherwise only equipped with a bed and a locker.
What he saw inside was a man. A man who had just regained his self-confidence, who would play a crucial role in bringing peace and would eventually be revered throughout the Republic, from Dantooine to Corellia.
He happily tugged at his silver beard, stroked his shiny hair, put on his gray nightgown and lay down in bed. After less than five minutes he was lost in his dreams.
…...
He slowly opened his eyes. His room was still pitch black, with only the reflected light of Belkadan's moon bringing in brightness through the window. Shanaron rubbed his eyes with clenched hands, wondering what had woken him in the middle of the night. And suddenly he got his answer.
The loud shrill wail of the alarm siren sounded and suddenly he was wide awake and sitting upright in his bed.
Outside he now noticed the hectic steps of the others. He immediately stood up, put on his coat and opened the door.
Before he could even properly look around to see what was going on, a group of soldiers in full gear and armed came running from the left.
The men rushing past didn't even seem to notice him, so he made his presence known by grabbing the lieutenant's shoulder.
"Lieutenant!" he shouted with all his might to drown out the siren. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on here?"
"We are under attack, sir!" reported the soldier with surprising calm. "Our enemies showed up while we were sleeping and shelled the building. Shortly afterwards, enemy soldiers entered the complex, set it on fire and killed dozens of people present!"
Shanaron was surprised. What on earth could be out to get them? "Pirates?" At least that was the only option he could think of. Such rare blood certainly had a high value, which made it worthwhile prey for such scum.
"No sir! Mandalorians!"
Shanaron shivered when he heard this. What on earth are the Mandalorians doing here? But just a second later he realized what the only logical reason for her presence could be.
"Give the order to escape!" he shouted to the lieutenant.
"Sir?" the soldier asked with obvious confusion.
"You heard me right! Immediately give the order to all soldiers to evacuate the station. As soon as they have managed to escape, they should return to Coruscant immediately!"
"Sir, are you sure we shouldn't at least..."
"If they really are Mandalorians, then we have no chance of winning anything in a fight here! I can't waste everyone's lives unnecessarily! You have your orders, Lieutenant!" he said with clear authority in his voice.
The soldier finally took out his comlink and passed the order to all soldiers present.
Shanaron knew he had to escape too. But he still had one thing to do. The Mandalorians were here to destroy or even steal the blood samples. There could be no other explanation, even if he couldn't for the life of him imagine how they found out about it. All he knew was that the blood was too valuable for them to lose and too dangerous for the Mandalorians to fall into. Even though he didn't like the idea, he knew he had to get it out of here at all costs.
"All soldiers have been notified sir! The evacuation has begun!" reported the man with a stiff posture.
"Good!" Shanaron replied. "Radio the pilot of my shuttle. Tell him the ship is to be prepared for immediate departure. We will take off in five to ten minutes!"
"At your command!"
"Come with me!" he ordered after the soldier delivered the message. "We still have to get something!"
"With all due respect sir, do you really think this is a good idea?" The soldier seemed to immediately understand what he meant.
"We have no choice, Lieutenant! The blood samples must not be lost and certainly not fall into the hands of the Mandalorians!"
"I have to contradict you, sir! There's no way we can get to the vault to get these vials out. The building is already swarming with Mandalorians. We would just waste it unnecessarily!"
Shanaron couldn't really contradict him here. He himself had given the order to evacuate and had spoken to Yotramdon about reason a few hours earlier. But no matter how irrational this order was, there was no other option.
"Look, I don't like this either," he said, much quieter now that the alarm system was finally silent, but still sharp enough. "But we have to do this. The Mandalorians have learned of our plan and the only reason they should attack us now is to eliminate our protection and wage war against us. Therefore, we cannot simply leave the samples behind, as we need them even more now. At the same time, they must not fall into the hands of the enemy, otherwise they could be used against us, which would be the end of the Republic."
After a short moment of silence, the soldier finally agreed and they set off. Flanked on both sides, Shanaron ran down the corridors and his guards dispatched every warrior that came their way until they finally reached the vault.
Countless corpses of researchers and soldiers lay on the floor and around them more fought desperately and pointlessly against the intruders until their attention turned to the team in the middle of the hall. Although they hurried, they could not withstand the fire for long and the soldiers around Shanaron fell one by one to the Mandalorian blasters. He knew that if he didn't hurry, it would only be a matter of time before he would end up on the ground with holes in him.
When he reached the gate, his soldiers surrounded him as he frantically entered the code. Even though the other men held out bravely, they didn't have much to offer and so they died one after the other until only Shanaron was left, who managed to open the door in time.
As he was about to go in, he felt a blaster beam hit him in the lower leg and sear his flesh down to the bone. Even though the pain was almost unbearable and threatened to unbalance him, he managed to limp to the control panel and close the door before collapsing.
But he didn't want to give up just yet. With a hissing cry of pain, he stood upright and held on to the wall so as not to fall over again.
When he searched his pockets, he discovered, shockingly, that he couldn't find his key card for the vessel. Had he put them out before he went to sleep and then left them in his room?
Before he could even curse himself for his stupidity, a loud bang ruptured his eardrums and the pressure wave of an explosion threw him against the wall, whereupon he hit the floor face first.
He tried to get up again, only to find in despair that it was futile. His injuries were too severe and he couldn't open the container anyway. The only thing he could try now was to play dead in the hope that the Mandalorians would leave him alone.
As he lifted his head slightly to survey the situation, he saw the warriors enter in their blue armor.
Shanaron's vision was dim as the explosion had blinded him, but he could clearly see the T-shaped visors of their helmets. Suddenly he noticed one of those visors pointed at him. At the same moment, the Mandalorian raised his blaster and the last thing he saw was a laser beam leaving the blaster flying between his eyes and piercing his skull. Then his light went out and eternal darkness fell upon him.
…...
In the undergrowth, just a few meters from the burning building, Ornan Mereel crouched with two other Neo-Crusaders in his red armor, which was equipped with silver shoulder plates, a silver helmet and a jetpack. An armor rarely seen anymore, after the start of the Neo-Crusader movement and the newly introduced uniform armor by Mandalore's close confidante Cassus Fett. No wonder. After all, their design was based on the classic Crusaders from the Great Sith War.
Ornan despised Fett, and he didn't even tried to hide it. He was all the happier that this mission was assigned to him. Proof that Mandalore still trusted him. A good sign for him that he was able to continue with his own plans unexpectedly.
In all the years he has served under Mandalore himself, he has always managed to hide his true intentions and his dislike for their leader, which was not surprising. After all, her blindness was exactly what made him despise him and his pack of sycophants. But now it finally seemed as if the long years of careful planning and hard work were paying off. Because by chance the Republic came across something in which he quickly recognized an opportunity to finally put his plans into action. The only thing he had to do now was to wait for her contact, who seemed to take the matter in a relaxed manner. They had been waiting for him for a full twenty minutes, which was unusual with a burning building and a horde of panicked victims.
"Mereel!" he suddenly heard a young voice call out from the thicket.
With a raised hand he motioned for his people to get ready.
"I'm here and I have the stuff with me, as promised!"
When he saw the source of the voice through his visor, he said to the two warriors: "Lower your weapons. He's finally here."
He carefully took long steps over the bushes, in front of the young Nautolan man dressed in a white coat.
"Mereel!" he called again, apparently still unaware of his presence.
"No need to shout like that! I have your back," he said in a grim voice.
"Oh," was all the boy managed as he turned to Ornan in surprise. "Sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention."
"Don't talk around unnecessarily and show me the contents of the suitcase!"
After a brief nod, the Nautolan slowly opened the case and gave Ornan a look at the vials filled with blood.
So it was actually true.
"Well done," Ornan commented as he accepted the closed suitcase and gestured for his men to come over.
"And as we promised, here is your reward," he said as one of the warriors handed the boy another suitcase full of credits. "Now get out of there quickly."
"With the greatest pleasure," he replied and hurriedly stalked away.
Ornan watched him go for a second, then turned and walked between his two warriors.
"Blow him away," he ordered with ice-cold calm.
Less than five seconds later, two shots were fired and the Nautolan lay dead on the ground.
Normally Ornan was a man of his word and did not believe in such underhanded actions, but there was no way he could leave witnesses behind. Especially not such greedy ones who could pass on all information to the Republic for a small sum.
One of the men then ran to the steaming corpse and retrieved the suitcase of money.
"Return to my shuttle and prepare it for launch," he ordered the two of them. "We will fly back to my ship immediately and then return to Mandalore."
The two men obeyed and set off. As Ornan wanted to go after them, however, he was stopped by another warrior behind him.
"Commander Mereel! We caught a researcher escaping. What should we do with him?"
At first, Ornan wondered why they hadn't simply killed him as ordered. But when he saw the little gray-haired man trembling in fear, he was glad to have him here now.
"Bring him aboard my ship!" he ordered the warriors. "We will subject him to interrogation."
