“What was that?” Areti voiced over the shipboard comm, her voice exacting as she conveyed genuine curiosity.
“As we are viewing the same anomaly through vastly different lenses I could only speculate on the visuals presented. To answer your query, I do not know.” N’dali responded, her voice resonate with a specific curiosity of her own. “My readings suggest spatial anomaly akin to a collapsing star albeit on a smaller scale, but combined networking has identified it as manufactured.”
Areti was silent a moment as she mulled that over, “by whom?”
“The Temple Garden.” N’dali answered.
“Where did any rebel contingent acquire technology of the sort?” The gruff and warbled voice of Commander Aturg chimed in through the shared channel. “Firepower of that sort and magnitude is entirely unstable and highly irresponsible.”
“The Imperial emergency band would both substantiate and disavow that claim Commander.” N’dali returned.
“That presents a conundrum…” The Commander began.
“That could be precisely the point.” N’dali fired, cutting him off, rendering the comms silent as all parties waited for some form of follow up.
From her position in the ship’s cockpit, Areti simply stared through the canopy view trying to wade through her own understanding.
“What if this isn’t rebel technology…” N’dali thought aloud.
“That would make sense Fardi, our own readings suggest intense magnetic force and scales of hyper gravity in excess of five times normal. I would not think of much of anything could withstand that level of ferocity.” Commander Aturg noted, “I am unaware of any corporate endeavor to that end, Mining Consortium perhaps?”
“No.” Areti said, interrupting the speculation. “No.” An impenetrable silence followed as both N’dali and Aturg waited patiently for her continue, Areti herself working through various paths of logic. “This is somehow familiar although I cannot remember how.” She said as she stared through the canopy at the darkened hull of the Challenger.
“Imperial familiarity?” N’dali asked, working to spur the Chalactan’s memory.
“Yes...I suppose. A memo addressed to the Deputy Director more than two years ago.”
“Two years ago? You remember a memo from two years ago?” Aturg asked, his sharp intake of breath and garbled tone implying a certain measure of comfortability with the conversation N’dali noted.
“Hold please.” N’dali interrupted after intercepting Sylde’s message to the Ravager.
Areti took the opportunity to focus through her memories, placing the time and day she had witnessed the memo in question. ‘What was the data header….’ she could see herself reading it as it sat on the corner of Audenhoen’s desk. “Project Colossus” She said aloud as the memory came into full mental view.
“What is Project Colossus?” Aturg asked, working through the congregation of consonants.
“If it remains within the Imperial data base it has another name now.” N’dali said, “and by the way Sylde is here.”
“Dark energy, quintessence, collected, magnetically stored, and routed through charged channels.”
“Areti, that is impossible.” N’dali fired back immediately.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t, MR had been working through the statistics and probabilities at the time.” Areti answered.
“MR?” Aturg asked.
“Military Research.” N’dali said before Areti could.
“To answer the next question, ISB always acts in oversight to MI in its classified research initiatives.” Areti spoke up.
“I wouldn't imagine Isard is free sharing most things much less classified Military Research.” N’dali said, openly and clearly skeptical of Areti’s assessment.
“Come to think of it, it is not only exceedingly rare, but it also hasn’t happened since…..” she trailed off in thought.
“Areti!” N’dali shot back.
“Yes! I know.” Areti said as she shot out of the pilot’s seat. “I have to get back to him N’dali.” She shouted as she turned from the cockpit and began the brisk run toward the aft hold.
“I feel as though I have missed something of import.” Commander Aturg garbled through the comms with some measure of confusion.
“They were fed the information Commander and will be targeted for breach and treason when it is learned that the technology now lies within the grasp of a growing rebellion.” N’dali explained her understanding of the cumulative logic.
“I see.” Aturg responded, continuingly curious how the two women had reached the conclusion despite a sincere lack of proof.
Areti reached the hatchway to the aft hold panting as she propped her hand on the archway framework doubling over to keep the blood in her brain. “N’dali, I have to get to him.”
N’dali, masked with her network assembly could only imagine the desperation on the Chalactan’s face. “I know Areti, I am working out several strategies to that effect. Sylde will complicate the matter with an unknown level of unpredictability, but I am working on it.”
Areti pulled herself upright against the framework as she brought a hand to her forehead, “I do not like that greasy man N’dali but in the grand scheme of things he may be the least of my worries.”
“That would be a severe miscalculation on your part Areti, the man represents only himself and his agenda wit’ extremely limited oversight.” N’dali responded with a sharp rise in cadence and inflection, Areti noting both as the Thebeskan infused the comment with a rare dose of emotion. “Where is Audenhoen now?” N’dali finished.
“Tagata Taia. That is where I left him at least.” Areti returned quickly.
“Well, at least that uncomplicates a few matters, that ship is in this system.” Aturg said before N’dali could. “Before I lose further ground in this conversation, how could a rebel prototype infuse a charged oscillator with dark energies without extracting what was necessary from a negatively charged energy source?” The engineering heritage of the Commander asked with sincerity. “We would have registered a massive spike of solar wake which we did not.”
“I do not have the answer to that Commander, as Areti has mentioned, we only have scant details and almost no factual data.” N’dali responded, her voice returning to its calculating precision. “However, we’ve seen what certain elements of the rebellion can do with only a dose of imagination and a mountain of hope.”
The Commander returned a simple laugh that neither woman was prepared for, the Mon Calamari sucking air through the ships comms and gurgled on his own saliva in return, Areti’s mind wandering down avenues of torture and the sounds of aquatic death throes before the voice returned to normal. “In the hands of our own engineering corps I could wager they would find a way to utilize both negative and positive energy modulators to collect, house and discharge enemy fire using the technology.”
The comms fell silent again as all three participants meandered down their respective trails of thought. N’dali broke the static silence first, “It would explain a good percentage of our readings Commander.”
“My thoughts reflected Fardi.” Aturg responded, “Scans are currently returning impossible readings as we compare them to only minutes prior.”
“Commander, speak freely.” N’dali interjected, “despite Miss Sigurn’s affiliations, there are common threats toward rationality and common sense that require everyone’s attention.”
“What am I missing?” Areti spoke up.
“Four Imperial class SD’s no longer appear on our scopes, and very weak power signatures from the remaining escorts and picket vessels.” He paused for a deliberate inhale of garbled breath, “even the two dreadnoughts present have sustained severe damage.” He finished with a dramatic exhale.
“None of this makes any sense Commander.” Areti said dropping her hands to her sides as she turned her body in tight circles staring up at the cargo bay’s ceiling.
“No, it doesn’t Areti, therefore we will assume that everything is united in cause and purpose.” N’dali added.
“This could not have been initiated by Armand Isard. The man no longer draws breath.” Aturg added as he worked to piece together the events in his own way.
“His daughter.” Areti quickly fired back. “Ysanne is….diabolical to phrase it accurately.” She blew out a breath as she crossed her arms before her chest, “she is unpredictable and intimately malicious.”
“And answers only to Palpatine.” N’dali added to the conversation.
Areti snapped her gaze from the ceiling to the massive conglomeration of web like cables covering the Thebeskan, “how could you know that?”
“Deduction to be frank. I have been able to access the entirety of her hearing regarding the matter of Imperial intelligence unification.”
Areti waited for some modicum of tangibility, a semblance or trace of reason for her own mind to venture toward an understanding parallel with N’dali’s, however, there was no follow up, “and?”
“The hearing was staged, although only two in attendance knew.” N’dali said for clarification, “and Palpatine was not present.”
“That is entirely supposition on your part N’dali.” Areti suggested as she pinned her eyebrows together, feeling as though they were beginning to waste valuable time.
“I am afraid I have to agree with the Imp on that Fardi, it is a bit of a stretch.” Aturg added, his own thoughts digressing toward furthering strategies in the present.
“I understand how it could be construed as such, but I am operating within the influence of years of accumulated data and multiple direct links to an active network. In effect, I am my own database.” N’dali paused for a moment. “Logic however does not dictate trust, for that I can only ask.”
“I am here aren’t I?” Areti chimed in.
“And I have learned to Fardi.” Aturg added.
“The realm of data acquisition is means to an end.” N’dali began, “mathematics is inherent in everything, much the same way the Force itself is. Although the Empire stole the latter from me, they were unsuccessful in attempts to steal my mind. To add insult to injury as it were, they enhanced my ability to view life through the lens of fact that only numbers can provide. Accumulate enough data and you begin to see patterns. Accumulate enough patterns and you begin to unveil agendas. Accumulate enough agendas and you begin to unravel the future.”
Areti cast her gaze toward the decking at her feet, comprehension infuriating her senses as she realized both she and N’dali were commissioned within identical agendas, the Thebeskan’s enhanced infinitely by the very tools her Empire equipped her with. “I understand N’dali.”
“As long as the two of you do….” Aturg responded rasping out a gargled breath.
“Sylde is the unknown variable in the equation. His shipboard AI presents him with the same abilities. The difference lies within the human element. Predicting AI is childsplay. Predicting what HE does with its suggestion presents multivariant, avenues of possibility. And he too, only answers to one individual.”
“The same could be said of you N’dali.” Areti responded lifting her gaze slowly to the network of cables.
“Yes. Only, I answer to myself.” She said quickly, “which makes me infinitely more dangerous.” The words were stated with a severity that surprised Areti, an addition of emotion that felt cold and heartless, something had changed.
“What is it?” Areti asked through hesitation.
N’dali did not respond right away as she worked through several scenarios, all of which would be the result of the guidance she had advised. “Areti.” She began, the emotional charge Areti had sensed changing gears as she noted sorrow within her voice. “Sylde….Sylde is here.”
Areti waited for further testimony, hoping to bridge the vacuous space the comment had left. “Yeesss. You mentioned that already.”
“He already has a small contingent of his fleet engaged over Ambria. He will not commit a further vessel until there is reason to do so, and when he does it will be precise and lethal.” N’dali admitted.
“And of the ship responsible for the anomaly?” Aturg added, following along as best he could.
“He will assign specific assets at his disposal toward tracking it….he will find it unless they take extraordinary countermeasures to divert those efforts.” N’dali answered as her voice wavered lightly. “But they don’t know he will be coming.”
“Unless we warn them.” Areti suggested.
N’dali stopped herself from commenting through the surge of reason that threatened to overtake her, though her own calculations, dissections and computations led her, inevitably, to a standoff of choice. “We could, yes.” Was all she could find the words for.
“Do we have the ability to track them?” Aturg asked through the hazy shroud of emotion N’dali was contending with.
“A weapon of that magnitude is bound to emit trace elements that could aid in any tracking efforts.” N’dali heard Areti say in response, the ones, zeroes, and occasional two’s she saw the world through causing intermittent interference within the conversation. They were calling for her attention all the while muting the dialogue between the Mon Cal and Chalactan. They continued to repeat themselves repeatedly through her mind, growing larger, expanding in all directions, drawing her attention to them fully. She could not proceed without subjugating their frantic cadence to a conclusion of solution, yet she would not commit to resolving the equation necessary to do so, nor would she abandon what little emotion she yet retained to. Her presence alone was enough to doom them all, a fact no one else could understand. ‘Sylde is here.’ She thought to herself, cognizant of the ongoing conversation yet helpless to integrate without solving for the formula racing through her mind. The numbers blazed with increasing velocity as they blurred into constructed ribbons of quasi-movement, edges changing pitch or degree sufficient to note any change for their subtlety. The ribbons seemed to draw back, elongate, to fill the void left within her peripheral as entire streams began to freeze in a stasis that made her nauseous. N’dali struggled with the idea of comprehension as the frozen ribbons of streaming numbers began to form a shape, one she was quite familiar with…. “Sylde is here!!!” She screamed out as she slammed the kill switch on her neural network.
“What the hell Fardi!” Areti shouted back, her heart racing as it slammed in her chest. “Why do you keep saying that!” “He’s here Areti. Aturg you need to get Challenger out of here! R3 detach and collar Liberator to our port ring” N’dali was frantic as she disconnected the intricate device from her neural plugs, her eyes flaring a stark white against her ebony skin. Beads of sweat lining her bald brow traced trickling lines down the bridge of her nose and cheeks.
“We know he’s here N’dali, you said if he has commissioned vessels in the system he will be as….”
N’dali cut her off, “He is here!” She shouted again, her right index finger pointing to her temple. The ship lurched slightly as N’dali grabbed her by the shoulders, “get over to the Liberator Areti, you cannot remain here.”
Areti mouthed her opposition but N’dali simply turned her body by the shoulders and forced her forward, out of the cargo bay, “there is no time Areti Sigurn, GO!”
✦
Time ebbed slowly as Shallah consulted both the assessment tactical screen over a determined technical analyst’s shoulder and the navigational array streaming real time simulations for orbital entry. She could feel the decision looming large throughout her core as she fought the facts her quick glance at the chronometer granted her. “Range on approaching vessels!” She shouted, startling the tactical analyst in front of her.
“Four hundred thousand Kliks and closing Mam.” A shout reported immediately from the aft data console to her left.
‘Gives us roughly two minutes of targeted activity…’ she thought to herself as she lifted a well-worn and abused fingernail to her teeth, biting hard to restore feeling of some sort to the numbness her body was beginning to register. She turned her head toward the ceiling slightly as she focused her gaze yet again on the navigational array. “Vomend, have you corrected?”
“We have.” The Lannik responded immediately, his tone sharp as it defied the modulation over the Tacnet, sounding as if the small man were right next to her. “We are preparing to return now, rendezvous to provide cover.” He finished, his tone shifting to an almost abrasive scolding.
‘Damn that man,’ she thought to herself as the seconds ticked away. She tapped the analyst on the shoulder as she bent to his ear, “that screen is still registering all clear correct?”
“One hundred percent Mam, both Dreadnoughts are without power.” He whispered lightly in return.
The decision was going to have to be made, ‘if they are able to restore shields we’re done for,’ Shallah thought, salivating over the opportunity to severely damage two of the Empire’s most deadly vessels yet knowing she shouldn’t. She squeezed the man’s bony shoulder taking care not to sink her fingernails into the flesh under his uniform.
“Helms, reduce speed one third. Forward shield generators maximum. Arm torpedoes and get those laser batteries charged!” She shouted to the command deck; decision made.
“Shallah!” Reece broke through immediately over the TacNet. “Proceed to rendezvous!” His voice breaking as it cracked feverishly, the Captain in him giving way to the frantic husband. Those closest to her turning their heads to display a vast array of emotion as she scanned them briefly. She saw determination and pride, adrenaline pumped craze, fueled anger, but also a dire sorrow, a silent weep that worked its way throughout every other. She knew they wouldn’t hesitate to follow the orders but began to question her own decisions as the silent weep worked its way into her own mind.
“Shallah Hyuat, do not engage those vessels. Repeat, do not engage.” A new voice rang through the Tacnet, forceful, direct, and authoritative.
Shallah looked around her command deck feverishly as the turned heads began to encompass more than the few around her. “Who the hell is th….” “No time, do not engage!” The voice cut her off.
“Mam, we have solutions, forward shields at maximum, all deck turbo lasers charged and locked.” Shallah knew it was her weapons specialist, but the voice was distant, hollow. She knew she shouldn’t, but she had interjected her passion into the choice, wanting nothing more than to see the Ravager burn, Executor was simply a bonus.
“This is N’dali Fardi, Shallah Hyuat….you are being targete…..” The voice rang out through her worn montral.
“FIRE!” Shallah shouted with a dire rage that she couldn’t fully explain. She could see her torpedoes ripping through the ship’s superstructure, turbo laser batteries pummeling the domed shield generators into obliteration and magnetically hurled proton bombs reducing its hull to no more than a fine dust. The entirety of her view displaying the broken dreadnought as it spewed various gases in all directions, plasma fires threatening to reduce what was left to nothing more than particulates of space debris. They never got the chance.
“Mam!! Three SD’s reverting starboard!!” Shallah heard the shout but could not decipher the message as she could only watch a fresh view through the transparisteel before her. Gone was the Ravager. In its place was a fresh addition to the fold. The interloping vessel, Imperial class Star Destroyer, already unleashing a barrage of heavy fire into their forward shields from its port canted position, offering the Ravager complete obfuscation. The destruction of the ship she so fondly sought related to nothing more than her wild fantasies and vivid imagination.
The clamor, a raucous endeavor, pummeled the command deck as Shallah spun her head in every direction imaginable. Crew members shouting to be heard over one another as proximity klaxons sang their dire tunes, sending waves of pain shocking through her montral, through her skeletal structure and came to rest in the pit of her stomach with gut wrenching agony. Shallah, so sure she would be watching the damnation of fiery destruction befall the bane of her fleet, could only grimace with a searing growl as the entirety of the Old Lady’s firepower slammed into the intervening vessel. Bright bursts of yellow and orange forced those that were paying attention to wince in added pain, suffering the dual fate of blindness before certain death, the flashes extinguished as fast as they appeared. She knew she was doomed as the command deck fell under red emergency lights just before the first of the incoming energy bursts tore through her vessel’s starboard broadside.
“Sha...ge..pod...aband….” She knew it was Reece, she could feel him shouting more than she could understand the gibberish registering through the malfunctioning Tacnet.
She lept over to the comms console a meter away and severed their connection to it, saving the remainder of the fleet from needlessly enduring the otherworldly screams of torment and anguish. ‘I love you Reece.’ She thought as she was violently thrown from her feet, smashing the side of her face into one of the databanks.
Shallah felt time in terms of seconds as she tried to open her eyes to determined protest. She could hear nothing as she forcefully cracked open her left eye, the right unresponsive. She reached up strenuously with wildly shaking fingers to probe the intense pain that was beginning to numb, finding her Lek’ku torn and her montral smashed. Shallah brushed past a bulging cheek, realizing her jaw was broken severely, warm blood rushing down her shaking fingers. ‘Reece….I am so sorry my love.’ She thought to herself, feeling the air temperature rise dramatically. She closed her eye again as the heat began to incinerate the flesh on her arms. ‘I love you.’ She thought one final time before she felt nothing at all.
✦
“NOOOOO!” Reece shouted almost swallowing his tongue. He shot from his position near his comms analyst and raced to the forward viewport, slamming his hands into its cold surface as he watched the distant ball of fire splinter and fade into blackness. His mind was a blur of irrationality as denial wormed its way through every recess of his soul. “No No No…” He kept repeating, ignoring the hands of support that continued to pull at his shoulder. Reece was oblivious to the free-flowing tears as he pressed his cheeks into the translucent steel, smearing them into a skewing blur that looked like he felt.
Reece felt the tears hit his hands in warm splashes as he clenched and relaxed them, his body slowly sliding to the decking as he twisted to face away from the viewport. Several crew members continued to offer what support they could, their efforts brushed away with increasing intensity. “Get off me!” He suddenly snapped, pushing himself up to his feet with abnormal strength and speed. “Get off me.” He repeated as he spun himself again, slamming a closed fist against the viewport with a loud thud. He let the shock of pain thrust its way through the bones in his arm, a liberating fire he had no intention of quenching. Reece raised his other fist, quickly pounding the transparisteel yet again, splitting the skin over his knuckles, tiny specks of blood smearing into the wet patch of tears. He continued to pound with his left and right fists, clenching them tighter with every blow, splitting the knuckles further and smearing his blood wider. Reece was losing his inner war, desperately.
A thousand thoughts flooded what remained of his sanity, diluting the already cloudy pool of reason he had left himself. Reece, numb to the throbbing pain shocking through his bloodied fists, opened his throat to the contents of his lungs, belting a blood curdling shout that forced those close to back away. He continued to clench his fists, contracting whatever muscles he could focus on, turning his shoulders into duracreet, his biceps into wrought duranium cables, all in a vain effort to nullify the effects of his shattered heart. He felt the heat through his eyes as he turned every emotion that brewed within into a tangible hatred, a seething rage that would only be satiated through bitter revenge, cold murderous revenge. Reece felt the final tendrils of humanity evaporate as those that were offering hands of support seconds earlier began to retreat from him fully. His revenge filled eyes found the path he sought as they sidled out of the way, the helms control lying ahead of him without any impediments to block his path.
“Don’t do it Reece.” The raspy twang echoed through the silence of the command deck; the accent specific the tone quite serious.
The assembled crew members, analysts and technicians found reason to relocate themselves yet again as they opened direct line of sight to both Reece and Kalla. “Look around you Reece. These aren’t just your crew; they are your friends.” She said slowly, her right hand buried within her flowing robes tickling the blaster holstered to her hip. “We’ve already lost enough to pride and arrogance, to vanity and pretense.”
Reece tore his hate filled eyes from the helms control and whipped his head to face her. “They killed Shallah, Kalla!” He shouted, froth working the corners of his mouth.
“As they killed my sister Reece….and thousands of others.” Kalla returned calmly. “We’ve simply lost Reece. To force the matter through the facets of your rage and hatred would only see the destruction of us as well.” Kalla said, drawing her hand slowly away from the blaster.
“You don’t know that Kalla!” He spat in return, his gaze fixated on the hard features of the Iktochi, infuriating himself further as he sought some form of emotion within them. “Do you feel nothing?”
“Reece. I pleaded with you to not engage from the beginning, have you already forgotten that? Or is it simply that you find comfort in rage because now, you too, have lost something of meaning?” Kalla momentarily lost sight of her calm demeanor, her accent crafting her words into forged weaponry. “The conclave presented this fleet the opportunity to strike down our adversary. It failed.” She rasped with severity. “Do not present the Empire a larger victory than they have earned.”
The truth in the statement cut the final strings of what little sanity remained within the crazed human. His mind rehashed the perpetrator of his wife’s death, reminded of it yet again through Kalla’s words, “Empire…” he mumbled through seething teeth, dripping saliva onto his boots. His focus locked on the disheveled man standing behind the Iktochi as everything else fell out of frame. The man stared back, expressionless, unmoved, uncaring. Conda simply returned the stare without moving a muscle, raising a hand to Kalla’s shoulder in a motion of support. “You….” Reece snarled, diverting from the path toward the helms control he was facing to move toward the Toprawan. “You killed my wife...Imp.”
“Do not take another step forward Reece, I beg you.” Kalla said, her tone returning to its calming nature. “Let us retreat and mend our wounds.”
Reece stopped listening altogether as his final words echoed through his mind. All he could see was the expressionless face that would pay for killing his wife. Without another thought, he burst from his stance, his muscles exploding with ferocious intent, speed unnatural, relentless intent. A guttural grunt and bellowed shout of rage escaped his mouth as he sprang toward the man, only to see his surroundings disappear into total darkness, his mind questioning the complete lack of bodily control that was taking place, his body crashing to the plating as quickly as it had lept from it. Reece slid another meter before his body came to a solemn rest at Kalla’s feet, Kalla herself returning her raised blaster to its hip side holster.
“Foolishness….” The Iktochi muttered, shaking her head slowly from side to side, sweeping the returned gazes of those that were digesting what had just transpired. “...he is only stunned, rest assured.” She said solemnly, finding it difficult to contain the sorrow that began to work its way into her conscience foreground. “Tellus, tell the fighters to abort their runs and exit this system. We will follow suit and rendezvous with Temple Garden at point Theta.” Kalla said, doing her best to divert the sorrow as she posited reason to a command deck in dire need of it. “Alert Vomend, as I am sure he is well aware of what has transpired, he will need to extract his ground forces immediately.” She added, turning her head toward the human staffing the helms control with an affirmative and authoritative nod.
✦
“What do you mean?” Lieutenant Commander Kywig Hurzt shouted through his comms.
“Abort your runs Hurzt, and rendezvous at point Theta.” Tellus Var returned in a false serenity, “it is a simple order.” The words were unquestionable as Kywig heard them crackle through his comms feed, his wing commander’s voice determined but also melancholy. Hurzt knew he had missed something as he dialed his comms switch to relay the order to the contingent of fighters heading for the Imperial war machine, ‘but what?’
“All flights, abort your runs and dial in for point Theta.” He said, listening for the litany of affirmative responses as he powered down the forward laser cannons on his RZ-2. He was grateful that those under his direction chose not to question the order although he knew they were all just as possessed of the same curiosity he was.
“Ummm...Hurzt..?” A final modulated voice crackled through his thoughts. “We do not have an operable hyperdrive….” the voice trailed off in an echo that seemed appropriate to Hurzt as he stared ahead toward the pulsing oranges and blues of the oddly configured Star Destroyers they had been tasked with attacking. ‘How the hell did this bit of information escape him?’ He thought to himself, damning the pre-flight teams. ‘Who was that’ his thoughts drifting, “Kyzie” he said, grateful he had switched off his outbound feed. “Kyzie and Halloy” Hurzt amended, quickly understanding the pilot’s dilemma as his K-88’s filled his cockpit with their chugging roar. He quickly toggled his outbound comms back to flight command, “Tellus, we have a problem.” Hurzt waited several seconds for a response before contorting his features, checking again to make sure he had selected the correct channel, “Tellus?”
No answer.
Hurzt caught the blinking red light set into his comms control panel, an incoming message. He toggled back to flight control, “Kyzie, Halloy…”
“Sir, the fleet has already left the system.” Modulation dehumanized the voice as Kyzie offered the facts.
Hurzt turned his head to find that the three of them were the sole remnants of the fleet as he checked his tac screen. “Well, that poses a problem doesn’t it…”
“Sir, get yourself out of here. We can try making it to Vomend.” It was Halloy this time, comms doing little to mask the Nautolons high pitched voice.
Hurzt could only stare at the enormous Ion engines of the Star Destroyer before him, knowing there was no appropriate response other than the one he had on the tip of his tongue. “We go together.”