All was quiet as GA Daemon sat comfortably at his desk. The only sound to disturb this silence was the hissing of the automatic door as CL Junon entered the room, just as the Grand Admiral had asked. He had several maps laid across his table, all detailing several nearby sectors. The Admiral was holding one in particular, the map detailing the sector the Chimaera was now located in. It was this map that the Admiral was mostly concerned about. He laid the map in front of the CL and stretched it out before the two of them.

        “Interesting sector, isn’t it?” asked the GA. “We have scanned this sector over and over, and nothing.” The GA seemed unusually casual this moment.

        “I have talked about it with the Chimaera’s chief navigator several times before, and we still haven’t come to a conclusion.” The specific lack of “something” the two were talking about was infact a literal meaning; there was no star systems, no nebulas, absolutely nothing within this sector. “Sir, I suggest having the Artemis come at once, it’s TIE scouts would perhaps be of use to us.”

        “Very well, then, captain. Send the Artemis at once.” The GA then turned back to his seat.

*****

At the Heutror sector:

The VSD Stalwart had been docked for repairs. Meanwhile, the ship’s two Lieutenants, Idanian and RayCav, along with LC Rhys, were interested in one of the inhabitants onboard this remote station. As the two LTs escorted the LC down the long corridors along the promenade, they were confronted by a very mysterious and dark looking stranger. He had introduced himself as “Lyatrab.”

        “May I interest you in some spare hydrospanners?” the mysterious figure pulled out his cloak to reveal some rather rusty hydrospanners, amongst other various pieces of junk.

        “No thanks,” replied LC Rhys, “but we are interested in some information you may be able to provide.”

        “Ah, perhaps there is something I can provide you with after all!” The mysterious figure then proceeded to race across the promenade in a single, quick action. At that moment, a suspicious look occupied the LC’s face. “RayCav, go and follow him! I want to know what he is up too.”

        With a slight nod, the LT proceeded to do as ordered. He managed to chase the darkly cloaked figure down some long corridors until he witnessed the man enter a dilapidated room. Seeing as he had not been detected yet, RayCav decided to remain until the figure had returned.

*****

Aboard the VSD Striker:

The force of the explosions began to rock the office of Captain Stele. He was nearly knocked off his feet when LC Syrtaras appeared.

        “Sir, Omicron and Kappa have been launched, they are making their strike, although LT Pavz reports in heavy causalities. He recommends additional support.”

        “Fine then, order the Cavalry to launch its fighters in support, but have Monarch and Protector continue to have theirs cover the fleet. Go ahead and send in the frigates into battle.”

        The Striker’s sector group had come under attack by pirate forces. One of their dreadnoughts had all ready collapsed the Monarch’s shields, forcing the VSD to withdraw, leaving its starfighters behind to help cover the fleet. LC Syrtaras was continuing his battle report, “Sir, the Vigilant reports in that it’s doing the best it can to help, although the Stalwart’s in dry-dock. ISD Chimaera reports in it’s too busy in another sector.”

        Just then, an R-41 Starchaser blew out the Monarch’s sensor globe.

        “Sir, the Monarch reports that they will have to enter hyperspace, otherwise, they face destruction. However, if they do so, they’ll leave their starfighters stranded.”

        “Looks like they really have no choice. Order them to hyperspace.”

        “Sir, looks like we’ll have to belay that order after all. A Loranor-strike cruiser like interdictor has just entered the area, identifying itself as Sparrow. It has a Rebel ID signature!”

*****

At the Heutror sector:

        LT RayCav had been waiting for nearly four hours, and began to grow inpatient. Worse still, he had grown sick of the recent smell permeating from the man’s office. After a while, he decided he could stand no more, and broke into the office. Taking his blaster, he aimed with precession at the doorknob and fired. The old-fashioned doorknob-equipped door lost its operating device and immediately swung open from the force of impact, revealing a dead, cloaked body and a bloodstained floor...

         RayCav raised his blaster and peered cautiously into the small dark room, but nothing stirred. A quick check revealed a small cot, a table and chair, and several stacks of datapads, comlinks and hydrospanners, but nowhere for anyone to hide. The thick smell of blood was much worse now, but there was something else, a sharp edge to the air that RayCav couldn’t quite place.

        RayCav holstered his blaster and bent over the body, sliding his hand under the man’s shoulder and flipping him over. The cloak stuck to the floor with the drying blood, and RayCav had to tug to get it free. Lyatrab’s throat had been neatly cut, and he must have been placed on the floor after his death; RayCav hadn’t heard the thud the body would have made as it hit the floor. He hadn’t heard anything, in fact. Another look at the wound showed why, the man’s voicebox had been severed in the same cut that had sliced open his jugular. Somehow RayCav didn’t think that was an accident.

        Several hydrospanners and battered wrist chronos poked out of the dead man’s cloak, and among them was the corner of a datadisk. RayCav eased the datadisk out, wincing as the man’s half-congealed blood smeared his gloves. Footsteps echoed in the hall outside, and RayCav stood up hastily. He knew how this scene would look to a security officer, and he didn’t want to take any chances. He shoved the datadisk into his pocket and stepped out into the hall, where he nearly bumped into a frowning Lieutenant Idanian.

        “There you are,” sighed Idanian. “We were afraid something had happened to you.” His eyes flickered behind RayCav, to the body on the floor. “What happened?”

        “I don’t know. I waited out here until I couldn’t take it any longer, then I broke in and found this.” He stepped aside and Idanian bent over the body. “Nobody came in or out while I was here.”

        Idanian stood up and moved his hand to his blaster. “There’s nowhere for anyone to hide, and he didn’t kill himself. There has to be another way in here; somehow somebody got in and back out without using the door.”

        RayCav turned to a small ventilation grate in the corner. “That’s the only way I see.”

        Idanian shook his head. “It’s kind of small, but I guess it’s worth a look.” He pulled over the rickety chair and perched on it as he examined the grate. “No good. It’s been fastened from the outside and painted over.” He wrinkled his nose. “What is that smell? I know it, but I can’t place it.”

        “Neither can I. What’s our next move?” RayCav asked as Idanian stepped off the chair. “Do we examine some more ourselves, or notify security?”

        Idanian shrugged. “I have a suspicion that nobody will miss Lyatrab very much. This sort of thing happens all the time with fringe characters like him. He’ll probably get a cursory examination and then be shipped off, incinerated, and the case will be closed within a week.”

        “So,” hazarded RayCav, “No one will really notice if we take a quick look around. Then we can notify security anonymously. I’m not sure that Lyatrab had anything important to tell us, but I have a suspicion that something’s going on.”

        “I’d better report in to Rhys and tell him that I’ve found you. Do you think I should tell him about this?” asked Idanian, pulling out his comlink.

        “If he asks. For now, just tell him we’re investigating a possible lead.”

        Idanian nodded and clicked on his comlink, which hummed and whined shrilly. “That’s odd.” He shook the device. “Let me try yours.”

        RayCav handed Idanian his comlink and started sorting through the piles of datapads. A few were dismantled, and a bottle of cleaning solvent stood at the ready to purge their grimy innards. That would explain the smell, thought RayCav. Remembering the datadisk in his pocket, RayCav pulled it out and put it in the nearest datapad. He got an error message, just as feedback whined from the comlink in Idanian’s hand.

        “Yours isn’t working either.” Idanian looked thoughtful and picked up one of the communicators that were piled on the scratched and stained metal floor. When he activated it, it too shrieked and crackled. “When I tried the public communication terminal earlier, I got the same feedback. I thought it must just have been a station error, but maybe it’s something more.” He met RayCav’s eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it. I think we should head back to the Stalwart.”

        RayCav nodded. “I don’t think there’s much here, anyway.” He pulled out the datadisk and pocketed it once more. “I hope this can give us some answers. There are far too many questions for my liking."

*****

        Stele frowned and paced the bridge, watching the battle display. “Tell the Cavalry’s Interceptor squadron to assist the fighters over the Monarch. As soon as the Lepidus gets here, I want her to launch her fighters and go after that Strike Cruiser. The Monarch isn’t going to last much longer; we need to get her out of here.”

        “Yes, sir,” replied Syrtaras.

        Stele stopped pacing and furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand why the Strike Cruiser’s here. Why would they risk associating themselves?”

        “Sir?” Syrtaras looked up from his console. “What do you mean?”

        “The Rebels,” replied Stele distantly, his eyes focused on the tactical displays. “They must have been aiding the pirates.”

        “Well, yes,” offered Syrtaras. “There aren’t any pirate forces anywhere near this large who aren’t well-known, and from what we’ve seen of this battle they’ve had some military training. That’s why the Monarch was hit so hard; these pirates actually have strategists, and they’re obviously getting help from some military source. The logical choice is the Rebels.”

        “It’s obvious now, but that’s in hindsight. Everything is obvious in hindsight.” Stele paused. “The New Republic is too shaky to risk being associated so directly with outlaws. They’re having a hard time explaining how their government is legitimate, especially due to the fact that they founded it with the help of outlaws and fringe scum. There has to be some reason why they would send in a ship with a Rebel ID to help these outlaws, something to make them desperate enough to do that. And then there’s the question of what they were doing here in the first place - they obviously weren’t expecting to engage us, not with that taskforce.” He paused again, cocking his head to one side as if he were listening to something, then snapped his fingers. “We weren’t scheduled to be here for another four days, maybe that’s it.”

        Syrtaras was looking puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

        “I’m just thinking out loud, Aarkon. Look at how many ships they have: It’s too few to be a threat to us, but too many to be a mere scouting expedition. I think that they must have gotten ahold of our original schedule and thought that we wouldn’t be here for another four days, which would give them enough time to complete whatever business they’re doing here and then jump out. But, we lent the Vigilant’s task force a few ships to make up for the temporary loss of the Stalwart, and in doing so the patrol schedule was changed and they were caught off guard.”

        “Why wouldn’t they have just hypered out when we showed up then, sir?”

        “I’m not sure. Perhaps whatever it was they were doing delayed them until we had engaged one another, and then it got too heavy for them so they called for backup in the form of the Sparrow.”

        “Pardon me, sir, but with the Sparrow here, none of their ships can get out. Wouldn’t they want to escape, especially if the battle’s turning in our favor?”

        “They must think we’ve already discovered why they’re here, and they want to keep us here until reinforcements arrive.” Stele looked up from the holographic display of the battle. “As I recall, the Monarch reported that when they were first engaged by the pirates, a group of ships held back for some reason. Check the records for the readouts on those ships and for anything else unusual that’s gone on in this fracas.”

        “Yes, sir.” Syrtaras turned and headed towards the pit reserved for sensor data, his boots clicking briskly on the deck plating.

        Stele turned back to the holographic display, frowning. There was something nagging him, something about the Sparrow that didn’t fit. He stared at the red holographic representation of the Rebel ship, willing her to provide him with answers. None came.

*****

    Line Captain Argas Junon stepped into Grand Admiral Daemon’s office, datapad in hand. The Grand Admiral was sitting behind his desk, the mahogany wood reflecting warm highlights onto his face. In this light he seemed even more calm and untroubled, his features smooth and powerful. But there was something in the way that the tinted light caught his eyes that threw an alien cast to his face. Daemon looked up and the spell was broken, his eyes reverting back to their normal discerning blue.

        “Yes?” he asked.

        Junon snapped out of his reverie. "The crew of the Artemis has completed the preliminary sensor sweep, sir,” said Junon. “They have found, well, more nothing than there was before.”

        Daemon’s mouth curved into a small smile at this.

        “The Artemis’s sensors have confirmed that there is indeed nothing here, but it seems as if nothing has ever been here. We are searching the records to see what there is on this system, but so far we haven’t found much other than its designation code. It seems as if it hasn’t been explored since the Old Republic.” Junon handed Daemon the datapad.

        “Thank you,” he told Junon. Junon saluted and strode out of Daemon’s office, the doors closing behind him with an efficient military hiss. Daemon studied the datapad for a few moments, then turned back to studying the stars. The Artemis was a grey shape against the hard ebon sky, its engines glowing brightly in sharp contrast to the barren space around it. Daemon watched as the TIE Scouts darted around the ship, tiny pinpricks of light weaving a web of sensor beacons with the Artemis crouching in the center like a proverbial spider. Any tug of the web, any input of data from one of the sensors and the Artemis would scurry over.

        There was another web being constructed, one on a larger scale, but the figure at the center was still too nebulous and the strings were still undefined enough that Daemon decided to let the spinner weave a bit more. It would only be weaving its own death trap, anyway.

*****

        RayCav sat at his desk, watching the flickering computer screen and strumming his fingers. The door hissed open, and Idanian stepped into the small, utilitarian room. While repairs were underway on the Stalwart, many of the officers had been relocated to quarters aboard the station. Space was tight, however, and many of the rooms, although clean, were small and somewhat shabby. “Any news on the blackout?" asked RayCav.

        Idanian sighed and flopped into the room’s only other chair, a surprisingly comfortable old standard-issue office chair with its stuffing leaking out at the corners. “Not really. Most of the sensors are out too, so we can’t do much scanning. The station techs think it’s some sort of wave that came from somewhere rimward, and they’re hoping that they can get a fix on it after the sensors come back online and they review the data. I guess there’s some sort of nebula nearby that stopped them from detecting the wave until it had hit. It doesn’t seem to be affecting the Stalwart much, so Dervin’s happy.” He nodded towards the desk. “Any luck decoding the disk?”

        “It’s coming along. I’ve already got the first part - it was in an old Rebel code that we broke a week ago. Most of the second part has been wiped, but I’m hoping what’s left gives us a lead. The first part’s useless - it’s an old drop time for some contraband.” The computer beeped and RayCav turned back to it. “Finally! Looks like we got it.”

        Idanian swung his feet to the floor and walked behind the desk, looking over RayCav’s shoulder at the screen. “He was going to exchange whatever was on the rest of this disk for something else, tonight at 22:00.” Idanian narrowed his eyes. “Hmmm…” he mused. “It just might work.”

        “What might?”

        “I’ve got a gunner friend who’s a slicer. I bet he could doctor this up so that it looked like it hadn’t been touched, and then we could exchange it for whatever Lyatrab was going to get for it. What do you say, Raynar?”

        “Sounds risky.” RayCav smiled. “I like it.”

*****

        “You look like an idiot,” Idanian had told him. RayCav had pulled out some of his oldest, darkest civvies and paired them with a gigantic cloak he had borrowed from another Lieutenant aboard the Stalwart. The other man had been a good ten centimeters taller and a full two stone heavier at the least, and the heavy cloak dragged on RayCav’s shoulders and pooled at his feet.

        “Why don’t you wear your boxers on the outside of your pants? They might take you more seriously,” Idanian had offered. Despite Idanian’s suggestions, RayCav had kept the cloak. It may have looked ridiculous, but it concealed him well enough that he hoped no one would recognize him.

        He sat sipping at his drink and trying not to look too nervous. There had been a booth reserved for Lyatrab in the farthest, darkest corner of the Hole in the Wall, a small bar that lived up to its name. No one was near except for Idanian, who was chatting it up with a Duros at a high table to his right.

        A woman slid in across from RayCav, and suddenly there was a hard, cold piece of metal against his stomach. “You’re not Lyatrab,” she hissed.

        “He, uh, couldn’t make it,” said RayCav, trying not to move. “Somebody sent him off on the final jump. I was his backup.” The blaster muzzle let up a bit, but didn’t withdraw all the way.

        “Lyatrab was too cocky for backup,” she said, peering at his face beneath its drooping hood.

        RayCav’s mind raced, trying to come up with something plausible. “Uh, he didn’t know I was his backup, exactly. He got drunk and told me the entire setup, and offered to cut me some of the profits if I’d watch his back. When he sobered up he denied the whole thing, so when I heard that he’d been done in I stopped by his place and appropriated the merchandise. It wasn’t doing him any good anymore.” That sounded pretty weak, thought RayCav. The woman turned this over for a moment and then seemed to accept it, nodding slightly.

        “Maybe you killed him and stole it.”

        “I -“

        “I could care less.” She shrugged. “You were probably doing the galaxy a favor. Just one more thing; if he told you everything he would have told you the password, too. What is it?”

        “He didn’t mention any password.” RayCav was wondering if he’d have time to signal Idanian before he had a hole blown through him. The blaster dug deeper into his stomach. “He just told me about the time, the place and the goods.”

        The woman’s scowl lightened, and the blaster point was suddenly withdrawn. “All right, you pass.”

        RayCav couldn’t help but let out the breath he had been holding. The woman tucked her uneven greying hair behind her ear and leaned forward. “Let’s make this short and sweet. You hand me your disk and I’ll hand you mine. You try any funny business and I’ve got a man in here who will shoot you down as soon as look at you. I’m sure you’ve got your own backup too, so we play by the rules and nobody gets hurt.”

        She reached in the pocket of her coverall and pulled out a small square of clear plastic, the datadisk inside. RayCav pulled out his disk and placed it down on the table. She picked it up and examined it, and RayCav tensed. In her other hand she was still holding her disk. Was she planning on keeping them both?

        There must have been something that showed in his stance, because she gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry, kid, you’ll get it. I just have to do some checking first.” With that she pulled out a datapad and stuck the disk in, watching the readout. After a few seconds she frowned and punched some buttons, then looked up again. “Tried to read it, did you?”

        “Well, yeah.” RayCav shrugged. “I was curious.”

        “Curiosity is a fatal flaw in this line of work. You keep your nose in your own business and maybe you’ll live long enough to realize this is a dead-end career and get yourself out.”

        “What about you? Why haven’t you gotten out?” RayCav hoped that she wouldn’t scrutinize the disk too closely. He wasn’t sure how well the slicing job would hold up.

        “I told you, keep your nose in your own business.” She looked down at the datapad again for a few long moments while RayCav thought calming thoughts. “Looks like it’s in order. Here you go.” She slipped the disk out of the plastic sleeve, flipped him it, and slid out of the booth. “See you around, kid. If there’s been any tampering, I’m gonna track you down.” With that, she turned and made her way to the door. The Duros Idanian had been talking to got up and left as well, paying the bartender before he strolled out. RayCav gulped down his drink as Idanian drifted over and slid in opposite him.

        “So.” Idanian grinned. “We got it.”

        “Keiran, some help you are. She shoved a blaster into my gut and you were so busy making friends you didn’t even notice.”

        “I did notice, I just played it cool.”

        “Real cool. The guy you were talking to was her backup.”

        “Oh.” Idanian blinked. “He was a pretty nice guy. I guess it really is a small galaxy after all, eh?”

*****

         “How’s the recovery operation coming along?” Stele spoke to a fifteen-centimeter tall hologram of Captain Calcyon that floated over his desk.

        “It seems to be going well. We just picked up Lieutenant Pavz, and thankfully he’s fine. Although,” he smiled, “he’s picking up flak from my pilots about going EV. I think they’re still upset about missing the action. I’ve sent a few out in the recovery craft to get them out of my hair, so don’t be alarmed if you get buzzed by a shuttle any time soon.”

        Stele laughed. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep you posted.”

        Calcyon nodded and faded out, his image dissolving. Stele pressed a few buttons and another image appeared, that of a bland Lieutenant.

        “Captain.” He saluted.

        Stele returned the salute. “Status report, Lieutenant Phylir?”

        “The capture operation was enough of a surprise that we think we’ve got some of the computer data intact, sir.”

        “Excellent.”

        “We’re still working on breaking the lockdown on the controls. As soon as we’re ready to dock, you will be informed.”

        “Thank you, Phylir.” Phylir saluted and then he too disappeared. Stele settled back in his chair, yawning. The arrival of the frigate Lepidus and the Corvettes Regalis and Insectator had been enough to overwhelm the struggling pirate forces. The Sparrow had withdrawn with her shields at 15% and as soon as her gravity wells were down, the pirate ships had started fleeing to hyperspace.

        Syrtaras’s diligent analysis of the enemy ships had revealed a Marauder-class Corvette with erratic engine readings. The Protector, having been modified so that her arsenal included 15 ion cannon, had used the weapons to disable the Mos Rykkem. A boarding party was summarily dispatched, and the pirate ship had been quickly overwhelmed.

        The crew of the Mos Rykkem hadn’t surrendered easily, and there had been a few tense moments when the self-destruct had been triggered. But some quick work from Phylir’s men had halted the countdown and rounded up the officers of the ship at gunpoint. The controls had been locked down when the self-destruct had been initiated, and until they were freed up the Mos Rykkem was floating dead in space.

        For now, Stele was content to wait and pick up the escape pods from the Monarch, who had had her hull breached in her aft engine section thanks to a lucky hit by an Ugly. The Monarch had managed to survive the pounding she’d taken, and after a few weeks in a repair dock she would be as good as new. The pilot who had breached her hull had not been so fortunate, however. Omicron squadron, furious at having let a ship with warheads by their defenses, had converged on him as one. Within seconds after making his strike the pilot was reduced to his constituent atoms.

        Stele yawned again. It was 04:00 by the Striker’s clocks, and he had been robbed of a night’s sleep by the battle. Now that it was over, he might as well get some rest while he could. Syrtaras was more than capable of handling things for a while. Stele leaned back in his chair and within minutes he was fast asleep.

*****

         “It doesn’t make any sense.” Captain Agony McDougall’s hologram floated in front of the Grand Admiral. “This ‘sphere of nothing’ we’ve found extends for about twenty billion kilometers, and then there’s matter again, sort of seeping in at the edges. It seems as if something took this area of space and sucked everything out of it.”

        Daemon nodded, seemingly unfazed by this pronouncement. “Do you have any theories as to what could have caused this?”

        “None whatsoever. We’ve finally tracked down the original maps on this sector, and about five hundred years ago when this sector was last mapped there was a fairly stable multiple star system at the approximate center of our sphere of nothing. Other than that the sector was basically empty to begin with, which is why it hasn’t been mapped in half a millenium. That’s a long time, but not on the galactic timescale. Those stars should still be there.”

        “What information is there on the stars?”

        “Not much, but I can send it over if you’d like.”

        “Please do so.”

        Agony’s image turned away for a second and then faced Daemon again. “It’s sent.”

        “Thank you, Captain.”

        “As of right now we’re doing a search for any additional information on this sector. Until that plan of action produces something, I think that we should observe the sector from various distances to see what was happening here in the past. We’ll start about a light year away and work our way in or out, depending on what we find.”

        “That sounds like a judicious idea. I’d like hourly reports, and of course I want to be notified as soon as you find anything pertinent.”

        Captain Agony saluted. “Yes, sir.” After his hologram had faded away, Daemon opened the file Agony had sent him and began reading. The multiple star system had consisted of a complex arrangement of six stars, ranging from M45-RR, the blue-white supergiant at the middle, to M45-NS, the tiny brown dwarf that skirted the edges. The second star in the system was a K subgiant, designated M45-K. The third star, a white dwarf, competed gravitationally with the supergiant, and M45-K was caught in the tug of war between the two. The white dwarf’s orbit was almost 60 degrees from that of the fourth and fifth stars in the system, two nondescript G2 dwarfs that were orbiting each other so closely that they exchanged matter, nearly coalescing. The sixth and final star was M45-NS, the brown dwarf. It bounced between all of the other stars in the system, leaving trails of matter as it was stretched and strained by the conflicting gravitational pulls.

        M45-RR had been a Cepheid, a star who pulsated every few months, expanding and contracting. It was these semi-regular pulsations that had really disturbed the orbit of M45-NS, sometimes grabbing it just as it was swinging into the path of one of the other stars, or pulling it down as M45-RR contracted until M45-NS emerged on a totally different plane.

        Daemon sighed and closed down the file. He stood up and walked to a small keypad set in the wall, punching in a set of commands. The room went dark and the walls, floor and ceiling were transformed into a realtime view of the space around the Chimaera. The furniture made dark shapes against the stars, islands of black against the black sky. The Artemis, which was floating somewhere above his desk, flared brightly, elongated and then disappeared as it made the jump to hyperspace. Daemon stood surrounded by the vast reaches of space, his uniform glowing faintly like a beacon in the starlight, and stared down eternity.

*****

         Idanian sighed and crossed his arms. “Would you hurry up, already?” He was standing behind RayCav at the door to their room and tapping his foot impatiently.

        “I’m going, I’m going. The key sticks, you know that.” RayCav smashed the flat of hid hand against the door, with no apparent effect. “Come on,” he muttered, jiggling the flat plastic key in the slot. It slid free and the door swung inward. “Voila! Satisfied?” he asked, as Idanian pushed in behind him.

        “No, I’m not. If you had just given me the disk and let me come back by myself, I could have found out what was on it half an hour ago.”

        “I had a blaster shoved into my gut for this thing. No way am I going to let you see what’s on it before I do.” RayCav turned on the computer and slid in behind the keyboard.

        “If you hadn’t dropped off the cloak, we could have both gotten here ages ago, and I wouldn’t be in such terrible suspense. I can’t believe you could stand there and make small talk with that guy while you had the possible answer to this whole conundrum right in your pocket.”

        “I borrowed his cloak, and I promised I’d return it to him before 23:45. He’d already lent it out to Dedgii for tonight, for some sort of costume party or something. It’s the least I could do.”

        Idanian growled. “It could have waited.”

        “Well, the wait is over.” With a flourish, RayCav inserted the disk into the drive and watched the screen as the file opened up. RayCav’s eyes widened and he swore. “No wonder Lyatrab was killed; take a look at this.”

        Idanian scanned the screen and whistled. “It must have been somebody working for the Rebels who killed him, and no wonder. This is big, if it can be believed.”

        “What do you mean, ‘if it can be believed’? This is legitimate.”

        “I don’t know, Raynar. Lyatrab struck me as a two-bit thief and small time smuggler. I don’t think he’d be high enough up on the scum food chain to get his hands on anything like this.”

        RayCav frowned. “But he didn’t get his hands on it, that’s the point. Someone thought that this ‘two-bit thief’ was enough of a nuisance to have him killed, and killed by a professional, by the looks of things.”

        Idanian wrinkled his brow and studied the screen, chewing his lip. “I suppose you’re right, but I just don’t think Lyatrab was smart enough to get involved in anything this big. Or dumb enough,” he added after a moment’s pause. “Regardless, we should show this to Captain Dervin and Rhys,” he concluded.

        “Agreed.” RayCav ejected the disk and stood up. He followed Idanian out the door and down the long grey corridor to the turbolift.

        “What do you think this means, if it is legit?” Idanian asked as he pressed the button that would summon the turbolift.

        “I don’t know, Keiran. This whole thing just keeps getting more complicated as time goes on.”

        “I think it just got more complicated,” said Idanian, staring at the turbolift that had just opened behind RayCav. Slumped on the floor, her throat cut as Lyatrab’s had been, was the woman RayCav had exchanged disks with an hour before. She was still clutching the plastic sleeve, now empty, in her hand.

*****

         “- So we brought the Mos Rykkem in for a closer inspection,” Stele’s hologram said. It hovered motionless over Daemon’s desk, reflecting off the highly polished wood. Daemon’s office had reverted back to its normal look, with the walls displaying a few pieces of artwork and nothing more.

        “But you found nothing on the ship,” Daemon offered.

        Stele blinked. “That’s right, we didn’t. But how did you -“

        “Gravity well generators require large amounts of power to operate, and gravity well projectors require a large amount of space. When Strike Cruisers are modified to carry both, they sacrifice a number of things, including hyperdrive capability. The top speed of the Sparrow while in hyperspace couldn’t be more than mark 2.5, which would mean that it would have had to be within Imperial space when it received the ‘distress call’ from the pirates. It was waiting nearby to jump in when called for. The force you encountered, and the Mos Rykkem, were not the reason the Rebels were there, but merely a distraction designed to draw you away from their real taskforce.”

        Stele scowled. “They planted a trap for me and I walked right into it. I even knew that about the gravity wells; it was hovering at the back of my mind and annoying me even as I came up with my explanation. It did seem too neat.”

        “There’s no need to berate yourself, Captain Stele,” Daemon assured him. “You performed admirably, and you minimized our losses. It’s thanks to your tactics that the Monarch is still with us. You simply overestimated the Rebels. I think this little distraction was merely to insert a small Rebel force within our territory, as the window of time it afforded them was far too small to mount anything large-scale.”

        Stele shook his head. “Thank you, sir, but I feel responsible. There were so many signs, and I just failed to put them together. You saw what had gone on in an instant, and I was here the entire time and it never hit me. I didn’t even get that the ‘pirates’ were really Rebels in disguise, even after I saw their tactics.”

        Daemon smiled dryly. “Perhaps that is because there is often little difference between pirates and Rebels; they’re merely different strains of the same virus. However, I remind you that I am privy to information that you are not, Captain, and I assure you that if I felt any displeasure at your performance, you would be notified. Believe me when I say that the Rebels have not gained the upper hand here.”

        “Yes, sir. I guess I’ll just file this away for next time, and be glad my blunder didn’t cause any severe problems.”

        “Always remember that when you stumble, not to get back up empty handed. There is perhaps some good that can come of this yet, Captain Stele. I want you to question all the Rebels you capture, using whatever means possible, and I want to know whatever they reveal to you. I am authorizing a large amount of money to be used as bribes, if necessary, because I feel the information that they could provide might be vital.”

        “Understood. I shall do my utmost, sir. I’ll send you a report in six hours at the least, detailing what we’ve been able to uncover.”

        “Excellent.” Daemon permitted himself a small smile. Everything was coming together so nicely.

*****

        After Idanian had called into security to notify them about the body in the turbolift, both he and RayCav had been taken in for questioning. By the time security had finished, it was nearly 01:30. RayCav walked out of the security headquarters and found Idanian dozing on a bench. He nudged him, and Idanian yawned. “Go away,” he mumbled, but opened his eyes and sat up.

        “Do you think we should wait until morning to show Dervin what we found?”

        “It is morning,” Idanian pointed out.

        “True, but I was thinking it’s a bit early. I’m not sure he’d appreciate us trooping into his room at this hour and disturbing his sleep.”

        Idanian stretched. “You’re probably right. We’ll give it a few hours.” They started down one of the long corridors that abounded on the station, but as soon as they rounded the first corner they saw Dervin and Rhys striding their way. Both looked haggard and Rhys’s hair was slightly mussed, as if he had just gotten out of bed.

        “RayCav, Idanian.” Dervin nodded at them curtly.

        “Sirs, what’re you doing up this early?” RayCav asked.

        “We’re looking into a murder,” Rhys said.

        “So are we.”

        “You’ve heard, then? It’s tragic; he was a good officer and he’ll be sorely missed.”

        RayCav blinked. “He? We’re here on a different murder.”

        “I guess its been a busy night,” Dervin sighed. “Somebody cut Sub-Lieutenant Dedgii’s throat as he was leaving from a party not too long ago. They say it looks like a serial killer; he’s the third to go out that way since yesterday.”

        RayCav gasped. “Dedgii? Was he wearing a cloak?”

        “Yes, he was. What of it?” Dervin looked wary.

        “That was supposed to be me. The assassin thought Dedgii was me.”

        Idanian stared. “I bet you’re right. Dedgii was about your build, and with that cloak on…”

        “What are you talking about? What’s going on?” Dervin was frowning at the Lieutenants.

        “We’d better head for your quarters,” said Idanian. “It could take a while.”

*****

         Dervin massaged his temples and sighed. “I don’t know whether to reprimand or reward you two,” he said. “Although your methods were somewhat…unorthodox, you’ve managed to find something that might break whatever Daemon’s working on at the moment. He wanted us to be on the lookout for any signs of Rebel activity, and you went and got a veritable treatise of them. If I read the file correctly, this could even serve as an exposé for the New Republic’s shadier dealings.”

        Idanian, who was seated next to RayCav on a couch opposite Dervin and Rhys, put on a noble expression. “Well, sir, it’s all in a day’s work. Saving the galaxy from the clutch of Rebel terrorists, exposing the New Republic for the sham it is, it’s all routine, really.”

        Rhys rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, I’m sure the galaxy is forever in your debt. Don’t forget, though, that Dedgii is dead because of your actions. Although his death isn’t directly your fault, it does come back to you two.”

        RayCav nodded. “I know. And if our killer went after someone he thought was me, I bet Idanian will be his next on his list. If he saw us together in the bar, Idanian will be a prime target, especially as he didn’t find the datadisk on Dedgii when he killed him.”

        Dervin nodded and leaned forward in his chair. “Idanian, I want you to stay onboard the Stalwart until this thing clears up. In fact, I want you to stay in the quarters that I’m going to get for you until we catch whoever this is. I think that RayCav is safe enough for the moment, although it might be better if he joined you.” He raised his eyebrows questioningly in RayCav’s direction. “What do you think?”

        RayCav shook his head. “I don’t think that Lyatrab’s killer would have seen me at any point, so I’m not in any immediate danger. Besides,” his face tightened, “I feel responsible for Dedgii’s death, and I want to see this thing through. I know that this is really outside our jurisdiction, but I was wondering if you think you could pull any strings to get me involved in the investigation.”

        “I bet that the station’s security force would be more than happy to have an Imperial officer helping them out, even if that officer is a pilot and not really used to detective work. Rhys, could you talk to the chief of security about getting RayCav on the case?”

        “Of course.” Rhys stood. “He was still up an hour ago, and I bet the murders have kept him from going to bed, so I’ll drop by and talk to him in person.”

        “After you’re finished, I want you to try and get some sleep. Things could start to pick up around here, and I want you rested up in case they do.”

        “I’m only too happy to oblige,” Rhys assured him. After the doors had closed behind the Lieutenant Commander, Dervin stood up as well.

        “I want the both of you to get some sleep too, and Idanian, you’re to sleep in the brig tonight. I’ll find you more permanent quarters later.”

        Idanian nodded and yawned. “Anywhere with a bed is good enough for me at the moment. Raynar, would you be so kind as to escort me to my quarters?”

        “But of course. After you, my dear sir.” RayCav bowed and motioned Idanian out. “Good night, sir,” he added to Dervin as he walked out. “Sweet dreams.”

        Dervin rolled his eyes. “Pilots.”

*****

         “I appreciate you calling me at such an awkward time,” Daemon told Dervin.

        “No problem, sir, I was up anyway.” Dervin rubbed a hand across his bleary eyes. “Besides, I think this information’s important enough to warrant me loosing some sleep.”

        Daemon cocked an eyebrow. “You have my attention.”

        “It seems that over the past few months Bright Star Enterprises has been buying up old ships: dreadnoughts, Corvettes, outmoded freighters and the like. They’ve also been picking up starfighters, and a lot of them. Oddly enough, though, they haven’t looked for anybody to crew the ships. Another company, Vanguard Galactic Resources Ltd., has been scouring the black market for sensor suites and cloaking devices. Vanguard’s a dummy corporation, a front for a subsidiary of Bright Star Enterprises. And Bright Star traces back to ‘Vykk Leyla’, a person who apparently hasn’t ever purchased anything, had a visa issued, bank account opened, or in fact done anything but be born. Bright Star also hasn’t got any public stock, profits, losses, or employees.

        “Bright Star’s received all of their funds from large bank deposits by various people who are inexplicably all linked to the New Republic military. Every few weeks there’s a large deposit made, the ships are bought, and then they disappear. About a year ago the New Republic constructed two new space stations, but ships have yet to be serviced at them. Evidently there’s a rumor that one of them is somewhere in a nebula near Fait d’Fait, which is the direction most of the ships have been headed in.

        “The New Republic military, in a recruiting campaign launched three weeks ago, is attempting to fill the spaces in some newly commissioned Mon Cal Cruisers. But the numbers they released don’t add up to the crew listings as of a few months ago. Several thousand New Republic officers have disappeared off the rosters.

        “All in all, I’d say they were up to something big.”

        “This is exactly the kind of information I was hoping you could get me. Well done, Captain, although I must say I’m surprised at the volume.”

        “It was a lucky strike. Lieutenants RayCav and Idanian bought it off an information dealer late last night, hoping it could prove useful. They weren’t expecting anything quite like this, however.”

        “Perhaps you could get in contact with this dealer? I think a most profitable relationship could ensue.”

        “Unfortunately, that can’t be done. She's been killed by what we believe may be an assassin hired by the Rebels.”

        Daemon sighed. “A pity. We shall just have to make do with the data at hand.”

        Dervin stifled a yawn. “Forgive me, sir.”

        “That is perfectly all right. I shall detain you no longer, Captain. Again, thank you for this data. I have a feeling it will prove most useful in the days ahead."

        No sooner had Dervin’s tired face faded from view than Daemon’s holoreciever beeped again. He activated it to reveal Captain Agony.

        “Sir,” Agony saluted.

        “You’ve found something?”

        “Yes, although we’re not sure what. We’ve been jumping around, gathering data on the M45 system and trying to pinpoint when the stars disappeared. It turns out that they were there until 07:34:33 Standard Time yesterday, and then they weren’t.”

        “That was a mere minute and fifteen seconds before we jumped in.”

        “Well, you just missed catching somebody. There were a few ships in the area, although from this distance we can’t tell who they were. They hypered in, and almost instantly powered up a very focused gravity well projector. That caused some sort of gravitational ripple, and then everything, stars, ships and all, was gone in an instant. They left behind some very odd readings, which we’re still sifting through.

        “There’s quite a bit of data to analyze, but it might not be enough. We’re going to catch the phenomenon from several different angles and over a period of several hours, to see how the signals react as they get farther away from the source.”

        Daemon rested his chin on his hand and tapped his finger against his lips. “How very intriguing. Do you think that you could possibly get an ID on the ships?”

        Agony shrugged. “We’ll try, but we’re more than a full light-day away, and getting further as we speak. I don’t think that our sensors can get anything more than the fact that there were ships, and they only got that because of their heightened sensitivity.”

        “Very well. I want you to send the data to me, and I’ll have my people give it a look as well. It appears as if this, whatever it is, may be bigger than I had thought.”

*****

         RayCav strolled into the brig, where Idanian sat on the edge of a narrow cot. “Good morning, sleepyhead. It’s nearly noon.”

        Idanian groaned. “I didn’t get much sleep on this thing,” he jerked him thumb at the cot. “I think I should have opted for the floor, it’s probably more comfortable.”

        “Well, good news. I’m here to take you to your new quarters. They come complete with a real bed, a closet for personal belongings, and your own private ‘fresher. You’ll be spending an indefinite amount of time trapped there, so we hope you find the accommodations enjoyable.”

        Idanian stood and stretched. “You had better hurry up and catch this killer before too long, or I’ll die from boredom.”

        RayCav shook his head. “Don’t tempt me, Keiran. This case may just stretch on for months, and the thought of you stuck I that little room for all that time…” he grinned. “Why, it’s almost too much to bear. Come, your quarters await.”

        RayCav and Idanian made their way down the familiar hallways of the Stalwart. In several places techs were crouched at open panels in the walls, but for the most part this level of the ship looked no different from normal.

        Idanian sighed. “She seems so dead without her engines going. I’ve gotten used to feeling them through the deckplates.”

        “Rhys says that she’ll be ready to test her engines in a few weeks, and if everything goes well, we’ll be space-ready in no time. I know that -“ he stopped, staring at a droid who was touching up the wall with some paint. Suddenly his face lit up. “Paint!” he exclaimed, turning to Idanian. “It was paint, I remember now!”

        “Did I miss something?”

        “That smell, in Lyatrab’s office, it was paint. I couldn’t place it, but it just clicked.”

        Idanian shook his head. “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

        “So had I, until I smelt it here.” He snapped his fingers. “That would explain how the killer got in.”

        “He used paint?”

        “The grate was painted over from the outside, so we discounted it as a means of ingress. But someone could have slipped a nozzle through the holes in the grate and painted it over with quick drying paint after they managed to fasten it from the inside.” He looked at Idanian. “I’ve got to get back there and test my theory. Your room is two levels down, number 331. I’ll meet you there later.” He turned and darted back the way he had come, leaving Idanian standing in the hallway staring after him.

        “Right. I’ll just go this way, then,” Idanian muttered. “Sure. No problem.”

*****

         Daemon sat in the command chair on the bridge of the Chimaera, his hands clasped in his lap as he surveyed the stars spread out before him. “Sir,” Junon reported, “the gravitational flux is increasing, and concentrating in an area a few million kilometers off of our bow.” A few minutes ago, the Chimaera’s sensors had started getting gravity readings where nothing should have been giving them off. The readings had strengthened and diversified rapidly, until they were in a complex knot of increasing power.

        Daemon nodded. “Intensify magnification on the portion of disturbed space. I want a full recording of this by every sensor.”

        “Yes, sir.”

        The space ahead of the Chimaera remained obstinately blank, but the stars in the distance started to elongate and twist into odd shapes that increasingly became more complex. A pinpoint of light appeared, and then exploded into blue-white light that raced like fire through space where nothing had been only moments before. It wreathed and writhed against several invisible spheres. Suddenly, the six star system, minus one, snapped into focus and alarms went off on the bridge as several red blips came up on the tactical screens.

        “We’ve got four ships 130 klicks away at Mark 256.7,” a voice called. “They’re a modified freighter, a Corellian Corvette, some sort of sensor ship, and,” a note of disbelief crept into his voice, “an Invincible-class dreadnought.”

        “Order all squadrons to launch,” Daemon ordered, “and close to attack distance. I want these ships captured at all costs.”

        Junon turned to a Lieutenant at a nearby console. “What sort of armament have they got?”

        “Not much, sir. The Corvette and the dreadnought are the only ships that seem to have any weapons, and the dreadnought’s only got 40 quad lasers and 4 concussion missile tubes. The Corvette’s been outfitted with six turbolasers and four double turbolasers. There don’t appear to be any starfighters.”

        “Open a channel to the ships,” Daemon said.

        “It’s open,” a Lieutenant Commander told him a few moments later.

        Daemon pushed a button on the arm of his chair. “Unidentified ships, this is Grand Admiral Daemon of His Majesty’s Imperial Fleet. You are trespassing on Imperial space. Surrender and you will not be harmed.” There was no response, and the ships kept up their race to get outside of the gravity wells of the M45 system. “How much time until they can make the jump to hyperspace?”

        “About ten minutes, sir. The dreadnought’s slowing them down quite a bit. Our fighters will be there in approximately one minute, and we will be within range in five.”

        Daemon spoke up again, his voice loud and steady. “This is your last warning. Surrender now or you will be fired upon.”

        “This is Colonel Weh’nl,” a thick voice said slowly. “We surrender.” As he spoke, the ships slowed and stopped.

        “They’ve powered down weapons and shields.” Junon turned to Lieutenant Commander Palantas. “Tell the fighters to halt their attack.”

        “Yes, sir.”

        “A wise decision, Colonel. I expect no resistance from your troops as we board your ships, and I want all of your computer data intact. Evidence of any purges will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. Understood?”

        “Perfectly.”

        Daemon cut off communications with the Colonel, and turned to Junon. “Prepare boarding parties and slicer teams. I want complete access to all of the ships’ files as soon as possible. Also, bring Colonel Weh’nl to me. I shall be in my quarters.” He stood. “Captain Junon, you have the bridge.”

*****

        “Keiran, I’ve got something for you to do to ease your boredom,” RayCav offered as he poked his head around the doorframe that led into Idanian’s temporary quarters.

        Idanian, who was lying in bed, swung his feet to the floor and sat up. “What? Already? But I haven’t been here twelve hours yet.”

        “I work fast.” RayCav grinned. “What do you say?”

        Idanian narrowed his eyes and wagged his finger at RayCav. “You’re up to something, Raynar, and I have the feeling that it’s no good.”

        RayCav widened his eyes and spread his hands out, palm up. “Who, me? Now why ever would you think that?”

        “Okay, you win. I’m bored already.” Idanian sighed. “I’m probably going to regret this, but what do you want me to do?”

        RayCav’s grin widened. “Nothing much. You’re going to be the bait to catch our killer.”

        “I knew it. Why do I always have to end up being the bait?”

        “You’re the only one we know of that she’s going after at the moment.”

        “She?”

        “Yes, we got traces of some sweat from the airduct in Lyatrab’s room. It’s a female Noghri who’s been doing the killings.”

        “A Noghri?”

        “Yep.”

        “You want me to be bait for a Noghri?”

        “That’s what I said.”

        Idanian shook his head. “I may be crazy, but I’m not suicidal.”

        “She’s barely post-pubescent. She can’t be all that dangerous, and besides, we’ll have you tucked somewhere really safe.”

        Idanian snorted. “Not all that dangerous, eh? Tell that to Lyatrab, Dedgii, and your informant. I’m sure it will make them feel so much better to realize that they were killed by somebody who wasn’t dangerous.”

        RayCav rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to let you get killed. I promise. You can personally double- and triple-check the measures we’ll have in place. How about it?”

        “Have you checked with Dervin?”

        “Yeah, he gave us the go-ahead half an hour ago. You’re the one we’re waiting on. Hey, it’ll get you out of here faster and give you something to do.”

        “With an offer like that, how can I refuse?”

*****

         “I’m having regrets,” Idanian said. He was sitting in the middle of his and RayCav’s temporary quarters aboard the station. “Can I change my mind now?”

        “Nope. You’re in now, buddy, and you’re in for good.” RayCav’s voice spoke from a tiny com clipped to Idanian’s collar. “Now cut the chatter, we don’t want her to suspect anything.”

        “Yes, sir,” mumbled Idanian, and he went back to flipping through the holomag and trying not to check the door. He had spent the entire day strolling around the station, and he had tried to sell a mock-up of the disk to several shady-looking people. No one had wanted to buy it, but the plan was that word would get around to the Noghri.

        At the moment, he was wishing that word wouldn’t get around to the Noghri. He had spent the past hour or so not reading a holomag and jumping at the slightest noise. Soon he’d enter the phase where he had to go to bed, and he wasn’t looking forward to that at all. Laying there in the dark, imagining every flickering shadow was the killer standing above his bed…

        A shot sounded from behind him, and Idanian screamed and jumped out of his chair, flinging the holomag across the room. He saw a Noghri twitching on the floor, and then a security officer stepped out from behind the holoflage on the wall. “Got her.”

        “I almost had a heart attack!”

        RayCav stepped out as well. “You’ll live.”

        Idanian stared at the stunned form of the small, sinewy creature on the floor before him. “I never heard the slightest thing as she came in.”

        “She was pretty good,” RayCav conceded. “But not good enough.” He led Idanian out as the officers behind them stuncuffed the would-be assassin and read her her rights. “Let me buy you a drink.”

        Idanian laughed. “Better make it drinks,” he corrected. “I’m going to want more than one, after that.”

        “Drinks it is then. And I, as a fellow officer and your friend, must help you consume those large amounts of brain-cell-killing liquids to protect the innocents of the galaxy from their degenerative properties.”

        Idanian laughed. “How very generous of you.”

*****

         Daemon sat behind his desk, reviewing several of the files that had been retrieved from the ships, which had turned out to be Rebel. He looked up as the doors opened to admit Colonel Weh’nl, a tall muscular humanoid with four arms, a prominent chin, and feral eyes. “Welcome, Colonel. Have a seat.” Daemon motioned to a chair in front of his desk, and sat back down again as the Rebel Colonel did the same. Daemon clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward slightly, meeting the Codru-Ji’s fierce gaze.

        “It was M45-NS that was the key, wasn’t it, Colonel?” he asked.

        Weh’nl blinked once. “What?”

        “The brown dwarf. It was the secret behind the entire system, wasn’t it? As it vaulted from star to star, it continued to distort the already convoluted gravity patterns. As its orbit decayed and its rotation sped up it complicated things even more. Finally all the gravity wells arranged so as to form a small distortion, a tiny window of pseudo-hyperspace that would periodically appear and disappear.

        “You somehow found out about this, and so you sent in an exploration party to tamper with the gravity even more. A tight, high-intensity gravity beam was projected into the hyperspace portal, and that triggered the wave that took the entire M45 system and everything around it out of realspace.

        “You floated in this bubble of otherspace for several hours your time, with no way to communicate with the outside galaxy, observing the intense gravity fields that held the system in place. Then M45-NS, strained beyond endurance by the added pull of your gravity well, dissolved and the carefully constructed pattern was upset, reverting you to realspace, where we lay in wait.”

        “You seem quite well informed,” Weh’nl intoned. “I don’t see why you need me here.”

        “What I want to know, Colonel, is why.” Daemon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Why would you go to such great lengths and expenses to dabble with some gravity distortions?”

        The Codru-Ji crossed his lower set of arms, and rested his chin on the hand of his upper set. He paused, locking eyes with Daemon. He held his defiant gaze for almost a full minute, and then it dropped and his shoulders slumped. He shrugged, letting out the breath he must have been holding. “I suppose there’s no harm telling you now. I have a feeling that you’ll find out sooner or later; you’ve already managed to deduce everything else.  

        “About a year ago, several of our ships experienced communications and sensor blackouts, due to some sort of wave. The readings were unlike any we had ever seen, and we feared that it might be some sort of new Imperial device, so we dispatched a scout to the approximate location of the source of the disturbance. That was here, where our scouts found M45 and its gravity distortions. The data we collected on this system was of enough interest that it caught the attention of our scientists. They thought that it might be possible to trigger this pseudo-hyperspace portal to enlarge, but they had no way to test their theory.

        “The New Republic is just getting on its feet. We don’t have the time or the funds to undertake any large projects at the moment; we’ve got our hands full enough as it is. But our scientists projected that if we could find a way to successfully manipulate this gravitational anomaly, it might prove able to cloak entire systems from enemy ships. More than cloak, in fact, but completely phase out the system, so that it was put entirely out of harm’s way.

        “This was decided to be of enough import to warrant a team assembled to investigate. But we couldn’t get full support from the senate, so it was designated a covert operation. We purchased an ancient Invincible-class dreadnought and outfitted it to carry the huge gravity beam projector we would require. An escort ship and two ships tricked out with sensors were added as support. Using pirate ships as cover, we prepared to make our entry. The only problem was that now your ships were patrolling along the route that we needed to take in order to get here. So we got more ships, and set them up to be a diversion. The Sparrow, an interdictor, was modified to transmit a pirate ID in order to keep the ships there until we could get past. But the job was done hastily and the cover ID failed after it joined the battle.

        “The ruse was successful, however, and we escaped detection and triggered the system’s flux that pulled it and us into that limbo we were in. There we remained until it collapsed and we met you.”

        Daemon sighed and shook his head. “Therein, Colonel, lies the heart of the reason why your Rebellion will never succeed in governing the galaxy. You voice high ideals and grand designs, but the practical application of these utterly fails you. I agree that M45 was an interesting specimen, and study of it could lead to further understanding of our galaxy and the way it operates. It is also not outrageous to attempt to use this phenomenon in a way that would benefit your 'government.'

        “However, the amount of resources you expended wasn’t proportionate to the projected end result, let alone the actual one. Until you realize that ideals are not a substitute for concretes, you will never be able to accomplish the tasks you set out for yourselves.

        “In the end, the complexity of the web you had constructed ended up collapsing, and you have lost everything. It is moments like this that define the true difference between the glory of the Empire and the wishes of a group of terrorists who will never have the potential to realize their fanciful dreams.”