Vibrations from the air resistance as the LAAT/i descended came through in the electronic helmet voices of its stowed Stormtrooper platoon as the ships lateral gunners continually confirmed no contacts and relayed unimaginative information about the frozen landscape below as far as the eye can see to the platoon leader.

* * TWO HUNDRED METERS. GO IN TEN * * — came the call. The pilot complained about a lack of visual references and not knowing where to land. There was no facility and their orders clearly stated the drop-off location was a structure. Largely ignored the pilot took their frustrations out on the landing and by extension an eagerly unbuckled trooper who left the floor and clattered to the deck as the LAAT/i bumped its landing hard.

* * GO, GO, GO! **

The large lever doors dropped open on either side and the interior became part of the harsh cold climate instantly. Reactively the door to the pilots compartment snapped shut as wind and sleet blasted through the previously crowded cabin, the troopers had pridefully setup an outward facing perimeter securing the ice outside from nothing but scattering flightless birds, but despite their discipline there wasn't a single one not shuffling in the cold trying to fend off the temperature.

Nikana stood at the exit of the LAAT/i and from under their hood took a slow deep breath and exhaled a long warm dewy cloud that froze and disappeared as a gust of wind whipped the air, pelting the side of the LAAT/i with snow and ice as he disembarked.

---

* * Orders, Sir? * *

The LAAT/i took off sharply and for a few seconds its wake darkened the air with lifted snow which offered a brief clear glimpse through the ice below before it was lost once again as more snow fell.

The planet Tarthos is so distant from its star that seasons offer nothing more than a shift in freezing temperatures. However when travelling in close proximity to the nearby crystalline planet Ombus the additional reflected heat catching in Tarthos' thick moist atmosphere generates unusual warmth. Due to this the planets frozen oceans and large glacial masses have been noted to shift, rise and fall over the course of centuries. 5000 years ago during the reign of Urias Orian, this was not an ice sheet, recovered historic data showed this was a peninsula of the Lugar Mau continent, and was the site of a Sith temple built upon ancient ruins. Now it was supposed to be the site of an excavation and research station.

Somehow the weather was becoming less welcoming. Pressing two fingers against his military style throat comm Nikana spoke, "Captain, I could make out a tunnel roughly 4 meters below the ice."

* * Affirm, Sir — BT-244, setup a thermal drill, 3 meter depth — TK-337, ready 2 thermal detonators on a 30 second timer — Everyone else, CLEAR THE AREA! * *

Though listening to the communications below the LAAT/i above still veered unexpectantly in the sky as a column of vapourised ice and debris was flung hundreds of feet into the air with explosive force. Once the vapour clouds had dispersed what remained was a shallow bowl crater the bottom of which neatly carved into what must've been a tunnel from the excavation, it's dark passages leading deeper under the ice. As the troopers moved to secure an area that now had tactical value, the wind whipping over the edge of the crater howled hauntingly.

---

The Stormtroopers crowded both passage ways turning on lights affixed to their blasters, a few thick cables lay on the floor and lights occasionally hung from the passage ceilings but there was no power. Nikana pushed through the mess of bodies, peering into the darkness as the pathway sloped down and seemed to curve back on itself in a large downwards spiral.

Knocking on a Stormtroopers helmet, Nikana pointed down the passage, "Two of you, up front. Two squads follow.", pointing to the cables on the floor, "... have a third Squad follow these cables, look for a power generator."

* * SIR. * *

With two troopers ahead lighting the way progress should've been quick, but the deeper they went the thinner the air became and it was obvious the troopers were slowing and breathing more heavily. Whatever ventilated this passage previously was no longer functioning. Nikana tapped his comm, "Captain, have you found a generator?"

As they spoke Nikana could hear the static coming through the commlink of the closest Stormtrooper, there shouldn't have been any interference. Reactively each trooper tried their own commlink creating a pitiful cacophony of unanswered requests and resulting static. Hidden amongst the noise the tunnel groaned painfully.

Ordering the troopers to wait, Nikana relaxed and slowed their breathing before taking one of their blasters and the underslung light it provided. They continued deeper now only accompanied by silence and the intermittent crunch of frost underfoot.

---

After a dozen rotations downwards the silence changed, footsteps began to echo as the passage ahead opened into a large chamber it's floor covered in a cracked and uneven classical mosaic distantly surrounded by walls of crystalline ice arching into a high ceiling.

The once detailed mosaic seemed to be a depiction of Urias Orian seated atop a black hemisphere with scepter and sword in either hand. His face seemed dispassionate, his pose exalted. This should've been a central feature of the old temple surrounded by a grand hall and ante chambers, but it seemed to be all that remained between the clear ice walls peering out into the black, leaving the mosaic as if floating in an infinite void.

Inspecting the mosaic closer, the sword was obviously Orians famous weapon pulled from darkness and wielded with great destructive power. But to Nikana the scepter was new and the smooth hemisphere throne; was it representative of the Star of Ombus? On hands and knees Nikana brought their face close to the ground to take in details, a sweet smell of decay thickened the stale air. Seven symbols were engraved on a ring of stones that had done their best to hold the mosaic together. The air was becoming distressingly thick and taking a deep rasping breath provided no relief, trying to stand gravity somehow proved too strong. Held in place on knees that felt ground into the floor, Nikana fell forward and laid their cheek to the mosaic as their arms splayed at the elbows giving way to gravity, their exasperated spittle mixing with the dust and the dirt with short struggling breaths. Nikana's vision glazed over as colours and the memory of light gave way to the encroaching darkness behind the lids of their eyes.

---

"Plees! Anagi omhi Dar Itha! Anagi omhi!", there were many nearby voices stained with emotion baying out in reverence and fear inside the brightly lit grand hall of a large golden temple. At its center a man sat cross legged in meditation atop a translucent glass-like obsidian hemisphere, a scepter in one hand and a sword in the other. Unlike his mosaic he didn't just look exalted, he had the presence of a god.

Throngs of human-like faces cried out in their native tongue over and over, part praise part seeking forgiveness or respite. But neither came as like Nikana, their bodies were held down by the overwhelming presence at the center of the hall. Heads bowed low yet voices were high as their cries slowly became a chant and eerily the words began to make sense.

"Lord Emperor, I live to serve! I live to serve!", as the voices changed so did the bodies, some falling to the stone floor writhing in excruciating pain, others clawing at themselves as their skin thinkened in scaley patches, some with their limbs enlarging, still others pulling the hair from their heads or simply nursing engorging tumours that were slowly killing them. These were sithspawn, they were Ekind, the enslaved Ombi people.

As agonising moments passed, the screams faded, with bodies either still or dead the voices began to unify, chanting their one purpose, "I live to serve. I live to serve. I live to serve."

Urias Orian opened his eyes.

---

Nikana opened their shocked eyes to darkness and fresh echoing screams, lucent ethereal forms of men and woman were entering the frozen chamber backwards on all fours, their horrific movements sharp and agonised, joints bending at incorrect angles as they seemed forced to move towards what had been the Urias Orian mosaic but had now fallen away to reveal a gapping black maw, a seemingly bottomless pit that desired to be filled.

Attempting to retreat from the dark aberration of the maw, Nikana scrambled back into the passage to make their way up to the surface, but the horror continued. Slumped on the floor of the passage otherwise prestine Stormtrooper armour lay soaked in blood as if bled out from the inside. Unpowered overhead lights flashing in the presence of more tortured lucent forms pulled towards the hungry maw below. The walls of the passage groaned and strained, as cracks snapped through the ice sheet like ballistic gunshots, the passage itself beginning to break up and sheer, the pathway beginning to fall away as Nikana reached the surface and with one defiant leap jumped through a violent haze of updrafted snow and ice to the edge of the crater and continued to run as the original landing area collapsed in on itself.

A short distance away the LAAT/i lay broken on its side, the pilots drained corpse pressed against cracked cockpit glass, like the troopers its blood on the outside, dripping through the cracks in the cockpit and forming frozen red icicles. Nikana shattered the already failed glass, the pilots blood slick body still hung from its harness and quickly froze from the exposure. Scrabbling around the cockpit controls, lights flicked on and off as switches were thrown or buttons pressed, there was still power.

Nikana picked up a wired commlink tied into the ships more powerful communication array and clicked to transmit, "Priority 4. This is recovery team RT-16, requesting EVAC — one survivor. The research facility is completely destroyed, likely rigged to explode after entry", they lied, "it's gone there's nothing left to recover.", Nikana paused momentarily and clicked again to continue transmission, "I live to serve."

## Forged in Failure

Gravity wells, whispered Midshipman Tamil suddenly launching to her feet, “Sir! ... I’ve got it!”, she struggled to run the length of the command bridge of the Vindicator Class heavy cruiser Phoenix, continuing to exclaim her breakthrough as she went.

“Trainee Tamil!”, Commander Haggard brushed aside a crew member explaining an overly complex and likely flawed algorithm he held on a datapad, and turned to meet the no doubt oncoming wave of enthusiasm, “May I remind you Trainee, that this is *my* bridge and that you are on what is presently *my* ship, and until that changes you will conduct yourself with a modicum of decorum.”

Tamil arrived feet slapping to a stop on the deck and slumped over, hands on knees and gasped for breath between apology and explanation, “Apologies! .. Sir, I ... Think I figured out ... *that was waaay further than I thought it was*.”, Tamil hacked, coughed and wheezed as they attempted to stand up straight.

“Easy now Trainee Tamil, deep breaths.”, Commander Haggard stood motionless with arms folded, allowing only his eyes to follow as he waited for the Trainee to regain composure, “Now. Explain yourself.”

Tamil looked back over her shoulder to the datapad she’d forgotten on top of her station and closed her eyes tight before beginning her explanation with a thin lipped nasally sigh, “I’ve figured out how to anticipate the Carrack cruisers, Sir.”

“Go on, Trainee.”, the beginnings of a smile began to take shape on Commander Haggard’s otherwise impassive face.

“Gravity wells, Sir. With 7 planets the Orian System is obstructed by many gravity wells, which means when Hyperspacing from a point *in system* there are only so many destinations in proximity to other planets available at any given time. And if we force these Carracks to enter hyperspace at the right time, we can narrow down their options to a single destination. Sir, we’ll know almost exactly where they’ll exit hyperspace.”, beneath the enthused wide eyes and apprehensive expression, signs of confidence and competence were struggling to emerge on Trainee Tamils face. Haggard had seen it many times before as he shaped and refined generation after generation of Officers, it was moments like these that he defined his career by. He puffed up his chest.

“Well Trainee. Get those predictions to the helm, so we can pre-calculate the necessary jumps!”, as Trainee Tamil began a jog back across the bridge Haggard smiled.

---

** This is Sword 1, I’m aligned and the flight computer will have the jump plotted momentarily. **

The high frequency waves of his Twin Ion Engine Defender was the backdrop for comms chatter as Sword Squadron exited the hanger of the heavy cruiser Phoenix and took up positions for a formation hyperspace jump that would see Sword Squadron deployed as a wide net, along with the Phoenix, to collapse on their target shortly after exiting hyperspace.

** Sword Squadron, this is Commander Haggard. The Raider Accipiter will shortly engage the target Carrack Cruiser between the moons of Aeotheran. We expect them to enter hyperspace and hit the combined gravity shadow of Gamuslag and Sepros at the coordinates you’ve been provided. We will enter hyperspace directly after the target whilst they’re blind to our actions. Once we arrive, you will drop their shields and disable the Carrack Cruisers engines *without hesitation*, but you are **not** to risk damaging their computer systems with ion energy once their shields are down, you will **not** damage the vessel beyond what is absolutely necessary. Failure will be dealt with *swiftly*. **

His knuckles cracked as he squeezed the flight yoke. Looking out of the Defenders standardised octagonal cockpit, he could just make out the tip of the dagger shaped Vindicator making final alignment adjustments. It wouldn’t be long before the countdown came and —

** JUMP! **

“Damn it!” Was this amature hour? The damned monologuing fool. The nearby flash of the Phoenix entering hyperspace was blinding.

** Sword Squadron, this is Sword 1. Jump and engage the target. **

The stars in front elongated outwards as he initiated the jump to hyperspace. One by one the TIE Defenders of Sword Squadron popping out of existence within realspace.

---

On the bridge of the Vindicator Phoenix the blue streaked turbulence of hyperspace dropped away and reality snapped back into view. Ahead Gamuslag and Sepros were daylit and dazzling with the reflected light of the star Orian.

“Tactical, relay the enemy position to the helm and bring us about.”, Commander Haggard requested as he walked over to the view port and squinted his eyes to try and cut through the intense ambient light.

“Sir, they’re dead ahead, 50 kilometers out.”, a small flicker of light caught Haggards attention, as the hull of the Carrack Cruiser reflected back more light than the backdrop of Sepros’ atmosphere.

“Blast! Helm, give me full speed, adjust course 3 and negative 8 degrees. Do what you can to put us between that Carrack and open space. And where are those **damned** Starfighters!?”

---

** SHHHII — Sword 8: I’m right on top of them, damn near bounced off their shields. I can’t engage, too many laser cannons. **

** Sword 12: Inbound, keep ‘em occupied. **

** Sword 7: Same traffic. **

** Sword 4: I’m twelve klicks out. I won’t make it. **

** Sword 1: All engaged pilots, begin attack runs on their starboard side, they can’t shoot all of us. Burn down those shields and hit their engines. Then disengage to a safe distance. **

Three TIE Defenders of Sword Squadron began looping attack runs on the Carrack light cruiser, their ion cannons slapping and defusing across the larger ships’ shields. In response the Carrack put itself into a gyroscopic spin, turning as many laser cannons to bare as possible whilst spreading incoming fire across all shield emitters.

** Sword 7: I’ve lost shields! **

** Sword 1: Stay on target 7, keep giving their cannons as many targets as possible. **

As his Defender finally entered attack range, he was beginning to doubt his own words, *maybe they could shoot down all of them*. Checking system indicators his eyes hung on the 2 proton torpedoes in his loadout, far too much firepower for cleanly disabling a Light Cruiser and likely to get him executed by his superiors if he destroyed something of value — or worse, demoted. Switching to ion cannons, he entered the battle of attrition.

---

“Sir! Sword Squadron only has 4 fighters in range to engage, they’re badly outgunned and the Carrack will likely re-enter hyperspace any second now.”

“Tell me something I *don’t* know Lieutenant!”, Haggard gruffed as he pounded his fist on the view port. The Phoenix was still too far away to engage or impede the enemies escape, but close enough to see the flashes of ion blue and tibanna red weapons fire. His capture of an elusive enemy was quickly turning into an old man chasing ghost ships around the system, a narrative of failure that could lose him his commission.

Haggard’s eyes widened, “What the hell was that?!”. A purple and orange light had lit up around the Carrack light cruiser, briefly silhouetting three of the Starfighters as small black dots.

Trainee Tamil looked up from her station, “A proton torpedo, Sir!”

“Damnit! I know what a proton torpedo looks like!”, another purple-orange explosion rocked the Carrack light cruiser sending it into a drift.

“It’s engines are offline, Sir!”, a secondary explosion lit up the Carrack as atmosphere began venting into space, “all systems offline it’s in a complete dead drift.”

And with that the narrative changed once more, now he was a Commander who couldn’t control his subordinates and therefore couldn’t follow orders. If he wasn’t careful this could lose him his *life*. Wiping his brow and drawing his hand down over his face, he composed himself in the manner he had taught so many others, “When in range dispatch a boarding team. And once they’ve returned have Sword Squadron report for debriefing.”, his tone dripping with menace.

---

The troopers aboard the transport swayed forwards as the front thrusters kicked back, the ship clanking as it made a contact-seal with the Carrack, followed by a rapid succession of micro explosions as hatch bolts were blown. A light above the door flashed red to indicate a lack of atmosphere on the other side, the transport door opened regardless. The troopers aboard the transport wore full EVA suits and carried blasters at the ready. Exiting the transport into the zero gravity of the disabled Carrack they dived from wall to floor, from ceiling to doorway as they explored the vessel.

** ST-142 to Phoenix, we’ve found the hull breach. We’ll need time to seal and repressurise this section before we continue, as we got a few pressurised sections remaining. We haven’t found any bodies, we’re assuming the crew are trapped in the pressurised sections. **

** Understood Sergeant. Keep me informed. **

---

Commander Haggard strode into the Officer briefing room refusing to look at the assembled pilots as he stepped up to the central podium and slammed down his datapad. He allowed the following silence to hang in the air, “... my orders were simple. But apparently not simple enough.”, he surveyed the room, heads were hung low, “Your insubordination reflects on not only on yourselves, but the Phoenix, her crew and her Captain. I will have to answer directly to the Sadow Council and in turn you will now answer to *me*. Who recklessly fired proton torpedoes on the target you were ordered to capture *intact*?”

Amidst the breathy silence and shuffling as pilots turned to one another one voice rose up, “I guess Squadron leader Granger did, Sir.”

“And *where* is the Squadron leader?”, Haggard pressed impatiently.

“He’s dead, Sir.”, the meek response came outlining in tone the feelings of the assembled pilots, “Sword 3, was crippled and adrift. Those of us at the Carrack had lost shields. She was spooling up her drives. But we never gave up, Sword 1 rallied us for a final attack run. We came in from a blind spot, but that Carrack is damned maneuverable for a big girl ... by the time we got close, we were taking dorsal and ventral cannon fire. Sword 1 took a bolt straight through the canopy, then flew straight into their shields. His torpedoes went off like a one two punch, took down the shields, crippled the engine.”

“I see...”, Haggard stood stunned, his bluster dissipating. He shrunk as he felt the weight of his responsibility in a manner he was not prepared for. “... Very well. You’re dismissed, Sword Squadron.”

As he shuffled from the briefing room, the narrative in his head shifted again. Now he was the Ship's Captain responsible for a pilot who had died a Hero, therefore he would be seen as the Ship’s Captain whose plan of action had allowed a Hero pilot to die.

---

** ST-142 reporting, we’ve sealed the breach and have life support back online for this section. We’re ready to access the rest of the cruiser. **

“Continue Sergeant.”, the noise of a bulkhead door being overstressed and forced open filled the bridge of the Vindicator Phoenix and Commander Haggard and crew winced at the high pitch sound of pistons giving way.

** We’re in! ... ... ... Oh my lord. **

The comm stayed unnervingly quiet, “Sergeant, what do you see?”

** Sir. Bodies, dozens maybe hundreds of bodies. **

“The crew did not survive then?”, Haggard pressed.

** No... I mean, the breach didn’t kill these people. They have what look to be lightsaber wounds, some have limbs cut clean off. **

“That’s not possible, Sergeant, you’re mistaken.”, growing impatient Haggard shuffled through datapads he’d had compiled on likely antagonists, “... this could simply be the work of pirates or brigands.” he mused out loud.

** Yes Sir. ... We’re approaching the bridge ... ... ... FALL BACK! **

“Sergeant, report!”, Haggard commanded before going limp at the sound of Blaster fire and a distinct vibrating hum followed by agonised screams which ended almost as suddenly as they had begun, “What the HELL was that?”, he exclaimed as the bridge remained as quiet as the comm.

Trainee Tamil turned from her station to confirm her readings with her own eyes, “Sir! The Troop Transport, it’s disengaged from the Carrack!”, a second voice from a nearby station spoke up, “They’re not reconfirming their clearance codes, Sir.”

“Blast! Tractor that transport immediately. Hold them!”, Haggard approached the view port and watched as the transport flew away from the Carrack and underneath the Vindicator heading towards deep space as the blue light of a tractor beam stalled its motion and began dragging it back, “Excellent. Train the point defense ions on that craft and ... !“

An explosion rocked the Vindicator Phoenix causing it to roll as gravitational stabilisers struggled to compensate for the sudden unplanned motion. Bridge crew fell from their chairs or clung to their consoles and Commander Haggard hit the deck with a slap and slid three meters before gravity realigned. Outside the viewport the Carrack light cruiser blazed, only it’s reinforced skeleton remained intact, it’s heavy armour plating either vapourised or adrift, it’s bridge and engines gone.

Commander Haggard struggled to his feet, Trainee Tamil at his side bracing his arm as he rose. And through the viewport the troop transport, blasted free of the Vindicators tractor beams, entered hyperspace.

Lost in his own thoughts, Commander Haggard knew that there was no story he could tell that would change the narrative of his failure.