THE GRAVEYARD (ALDERAAN)

[Dementat]

A lone probe droid exits hyperspace on the edge of the system and begins actively scanning for the defenses of Ord Mantell. [Note: No assistance requested]

Viper Probe Droid 2
Location: DS-1    Heading: C-1
Armor: 20/20

[Dementat]

The small droid begins transmitting to the fleet that all is clear.

Viper Probe Droid 2
Location: DS-1    Heading: C-1
Armor: 20/20

[Dementat]

Nebulon-B Frigate Shyrack
Expansion Mission: Alderaan Asteroid Field

    The Shyrack emerged from hyperspace on the edge of what had once been the planet of Alderaan. Only a mass of rocks remained, thanks to the first Death Star. The Shyrack collected a lone Viper-series Probe Droid that had been waiting in deep space for a week. With no resistance in the system, the Empire established it's flag as owner of the minerals that remained.

Summary:
Frigate exits hyperspace.
Launches CSP.
Collects probe.
ACTIVE scanning space.

Starfighter Group
Location: C-1    Action: CSP    UCR: 8    TOTAL HP: 144/144
TIE Fighter Squadron S-02


Nebulon-B Frigate Shyrack
Location: C-1    Heading: A-1
Shields: 300/300    Armor: 300/300    Hull: 150/150     Systems: 150/150
Onboard Auxiliary:
Viper Probe Droid 2
Location: Hangar    Armor: 20/20

[Dementat]

Nebulon-B Frigate Shyrack
Expansion Mission: Alderaan Asteroid Field

    The Shyrack collects TIE Fighters and heads for deeper space. Once clear of the planet's gravity shadow, the frigate enters hyperspace.

Summary:
Entered HS.


Nebulon-B Frigate Shyrack
Location: HS    Heading: ____ <16 hours>
Shields: 300/300    Armor: 300/300    Hull: 150/150     Systems: 150/150
Onboard Starfighters:
TIE Fighter Squadron S-02
Location: Hangar    Action: N/A    UCR: 8    TOTAL HP: 144/144
Onboard Auxiliary:
Viper Probe Droid 2
Location: Hangar    Armor: 20/20[/center]

[XCALIBYR]

A long time ago...


The war with the Republic goes badly. Rumors of the

Emperors death have ignited a series of betrayals at

the highest levels leaving the Sith Empire nearly crippled.

With the Imperial military reduced to a third of its former

might the Republic has gone on the offensive and retaken

much of its lost territory. Lord of the Sith Xriss Dreadstar,

Darth X, the Emperors Wrath, has taken it upon himself to

turn the tide of the war.  His mission a success, all that

remains is to return to Dromund Kaas...

Darth X's Sith Interceptor shook violently as several missiles detonated in close proximity to the wildly juking vessel. Laser fire erupted in brilliant flashes, darkening the transparisteel cockpit as the Sith Lord deftly evaded the withering hail of super heated plasma. Chaff and various electronic counter measures reduced the sensor readout to nothing but a blob of indiscernible static, but it was of no consequence. Darth X was unbeatable so long as the Force was with him. He loosed a tight laugh, drawing a look of concern from his co-pilot, Captain Cole. "Worry not, Captain. It will take more than this to put an end to the Emperors Wrath."

"How much, exactly," she queried, pointing to a pair of Republic battle cruisers dropping out of hyperspace in the middle of their flight path. This brought the total to five cruisers and a trio of slowly gaining corvettes.

"Flattering, but their pursuit is hopeless. By the time they're within range the hyperdrive will be ready," crowed Darth X. His jubilance faded as tiny pinpricks of light clustering around the newly arrived cruisers announced the deployment of enemy starfighters. "Well, that could prove to be problematic."

The lights dimmed briefly as the Interceptors laser cannons roared to life, angrily mowing down incoming fighters. X drove the ship into a steep dive and pushed the throttle past maximum safe operating parameters, his stomach dropping as the inertial compensators struggled to pull power from the overtaxed reactor core. A high pitched wail pierced the tense silence, an unwelcome indicator that the deflector shields were about to fail.

"Eight seconds," shouted Cole, slapping the control console to terminate the blaring siren.

Eight seconds. It might as well be an eternity, brooded Darth X. So be it. If this was the end, he would face it knowing he had bought the Empire a fighting chance. Sweat dripped from his brow as he threw the ship from side to side, up, down, corkscrewing through volleys of incandescent death. Six seconds. His hands shook from a surge of adrenaline. The ship lurched from a direct hit, throwing him against his restraints hard enough to drive the breath from his lungs. Beside him, Cole momentarily sagged in her seat, then shook herself alert and flipped a series of switches to reroute power, blood flowing from a gash on her cheek.  The lights flickered and went black before being replaced by the dull red glow of the emergency illuminators. Two seconds. One. Darth X pulled back the lever to engage the hyperdrive and propel him and his crew to safety just as the ship leapt viciously from another direct hit. Smoke filled the cabin and alarms keened throughout the damaged ship as the stars grew into lines and then faded into the mottled chaos of hyperspace. And then they returned, a vast expanse of white slashes tearing past the viewport only to once again be replaced by intermittent views of the purple hued other dimension. The Sith Interceptor, built to withstand combat with capital ships many times its size, rattled around them like a tin cup caught in a hurricane. Smoke burned his lungs and stung his eyes. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. The status board showed the hyperdrive as engaged but the reactor was failing to supply it with enough power to keep them from reverting to real space. The stress was tearing the ship apart; already he could hear the whistle of atmosphere being sucked into the void over the din of the alarms. With effort, as the inertial compensator seemed to be unable to handle the stress, Darth X reached for the lever and deactivated the hyperdrive.  Nothing happened.

"We... have to cut power... manually," Cole grunted through clenched teeth.

Darth X was barely aware of what she said; already he was using the force to prevent the ship from literally scattering itself across the cosmos. "Good luck... with that."

The strain evident on his face, Cole quickly grasped the situation and released her restraints, throwing herself out of the cockpit in a mad dash for the engine room. Darth X was unsure if she would be able to reach it in time with the ship bucking underneath them, but he couldn't afford to dwell on it. The ship was threatening to disintegrate despite his best efforts. Immersing himself even deeper in the force he drew on his increasing fear, using it to fuel his rage, defiantly railing against the inevitable. He could sense the growing anxiety of the troops under his command, the anger of the Mandalorian mercenaries at the mercy of fate; he drew on their emotions to further stoke the fire of rage. He felt the determination of Captain Cole and used it to kindle hope as a map to the light side, achieving a state of perfect balance honed by years of practice. True power, he knew, lie in balancing on the razors edge between light and dark. His skin felt ablaze, and he imagined that he could see individual atoms vaporizing in his body as they were snuffed out from the staggering amount of power he was channeling. It wasn't enough, he needed more.  Sparks rained down around him but he no longer noticed. He was one with the force, he was everywhere and everything.  What mattered one being of flesh? One ship damaged beyond repair?  Except... It did seem to matter. The force was expending a great deal of energy to hold the ship together and keep its atmosphere inside. Probing deeper the force felt a strange sense of recognition from the being who was destroying himself to act as a conduit.  The force touched him, adding its support to prevent the being from drifting away to dust in an attempt to study this most intriguing being, the ONE part of the gigantic whole that seemed to have importance. For indeed, many possible futures seemed to hinge on the actions of this one being for whom the force felt...affection?  No, something else. How strange this being.  The force, aware of all there is save for a few pockets of nothingness, could not conceive why one part should matter above others.   The force entered the being completely, seeing through its eyes, listening through its ears. It could hear the being known as Cole hysterically yelling through the intercom.

"...have to re-engage and disengage the hyperdrive! Can you hear me? Toggle the hyperdrive or..."

Suddenly, and with a startling sense of shock and revulsion, it understood. It was this miniscule being. Not in the sense that the force was all things, but he, personally, was this wretched creature slumped over the controls of a dying starship, his body incinerating itself with the power it was using. How easy it would be to let go, how seductive the peace of all encompasing awareness. No!  Peace is a lie! I am SITH! I shall not be beaten!  Lord Xriss, Darth X, the Emperors Wrath asserted his sense of self, retaining his grip on the massive font of power but drawing his consciousness back inside. His hand darted forward, sliding the hyperdrive actuator back and forth. Several of the alarms ceased as the ship reverted to real space, the starlines becoming distant points of light as the vessel slowed from its frantic flight and began to tumble uncontrolled through space.......

[XCALIBYR]

Not so long ago...

Major Brams sprinted down the corridors of the Delta base, his breathing ragged from panic rather than exertion.  He had screwed up, badly, he knew.  Bad enough to be placed in command of an asteroid base with a hundred men and not so much as a flight of TIEs for support.  So, when the sensor officer had spurred him from his lamentations with a frenzied report of an unidentified freighter hurtling towards the command center on an uncontrolled collision course, he'd immediately ran towards the hangar bay as fast as his aging legs could carry him.  There was no time to issue orders; he wasn't even sure himself what he was doing.  All he knew was that he had to do something or his career would be over and his retirement pension lost.  That, and they would all very likely die in the event of impact, but that seemed of secondary importance to the years invested in the military only to be exiled in the last years of his service.  There were no starfighters, nor any turbolasers or missile launchers to shoot the craft down, but there was an old tug ship, bristling with tractor beams, that was used to nudge asteroids away from their location when required.  By the Emperors bones, they were a listening post, they weren't equipped to deal with situations like this!  Brams cursed to himself as he shouldered his way past a pair of stormtroopers and scurried into the hangar, scrambling up the ramp of the tug and palming the hatch button, partially for balance, and skidded to a halt at the controls.  Heaving himself into the pilots chair, Major Brams initiated a cold start, and uttered a silent thank you as the engines ignited, rather than stall out, and lifted off.  

Barely clear of the magnetic screen which separated the open hangar from the vacuum of space, Brams could already make out the fiery form of the doomed freighter, crumpled and venting flames from nearly every meter.  His hands flew over the controls with familiarity bred by repetition.  He took back every muttered curse, every complaint during the hours and hours spent redirecting stray asteroids.  Less than seven hundred meters separated the tug from its target, he was only going to get one shot.  Finalizing the calculations, he fired.  The tug hummed, a deep, resonating thrum as the powerful tractor beam engaged and grasped for its target.  His heart hammered in his ears as the beam struggled to gain a lock on the flailing, structurally compromised craft.  He was sure his head would explode from the pounding blood when the light abruptly turned from red to green, indicating a solid lock.  He was now firmly in control.  "...heh... HA!  ...ha... I've still got it..."

Minutes later, Brams had begun to wish he'd missed his target.  Or better yet, let the freighter, if it was a freighter, crash with him still inside the compound.  No sooner had the sorry craft, damaged was hardly the appropriate word, set down than its equally battered inhabitants hastily made their way out of what had nearly been their tomb, and into his hangar bay.  All of them armed.  He stood with his arms outstretched, pinned between the ersatz invaders and a dozen of his own stormtroopers, blasters drawn and trained on the ragged bunch.  "Now... let's all just remain calm..."  He had no idea why he brought the ship into the hangar.  He intended to push it further into the field and forget about it, but had somehow wound up here facing a situation gone from bad to worse.  His guests, such as they were, consisted of half a dozen heavily armed warriors wearing distinctly mandalorian style armor, twice as many clad in black armor akin to his own stormtroopers, a human female wearing a black uniform not dissimilar to his own and a human male.  The male was the one who worried him.  His bald head and exposed face were covered with soot and blood, and a long jagged scar bisected his right eye from his forehead to his cheek.  Around it, a sinister red tattoo encircled and crossed through the scar, as if made by a teacher grading his student.  He cut an imposing figure.  From his studded black boots, greaves, thick black chest plate adorned with spiked shoulder pads, and long heavy black cape to the dual lightsabers, clutched by black gauntlets and lazily carving gouges in the floor as if the blades were too heavy to lift.  But his eyes, his eyes struck Major Brams cold with terror.  He was by no means a coward, and as weak and injured as the man in black appeared to be, Brams had no doubt that he could single handedly slaughter everyone on this station with ease.  

"Identify yourself," rasped the man in black, cocking his head to the side and staring down the bridge of his nose.

"Major Adez Brams of the Imperial Army, at your disposal," Brams stated cordially.  He'd been shot once before, and was certain a lightsaber through his gut would be twice as painful at the very least.  

"The... Imperial Army," the man in black repeated, questioningly, arching his eyebrow.  

"Uh... yes?  You are currently standing in the hangar of one of the Empires many facilities, modest though it may be.  And... may I ask who you and your... er... companions are?"  Brams was curious to see some of the black armored soldiers relax somewhat at the mention of the Imperial army, but was unprepared for what he heard next.

The man in black looked him up and down, and then let his gaze drift over the stormtroopers and the rest of the typically imperial hangar and smiled a cold, calculating smile that gave Brams gooseflesh.  "Unless I am mistaken, and I rarely am... I suppose you could say I am a long lost son of the Empire.  I am Xriss Dreadstar, Lord of the Sith, Darth X, the Emperors Wrath!"
  
With each word, the tattered sith lord seemed to gain strength, until he was all but shouting the last words.  Brams heart skipped a beat.  A lost sith lord?  The Emperors wrath?  Brams didn't know who or what the man in black really was, but he suddenly suspected he would soon receive a transfer to a more choice assignment.  "I believe," he said, his smile sincere.  "That Darth Algoz would very much like to speak with you."

"I should like to speak with this Darth Algoz as well," stated the sith, extinguishing his lightsabers, a feral glint in his eye that made Brams mouth go dry.  He decided he would put in for early retirement after he received his transfer.  All but the mandalorians gradually lowered their weapons as well, and Brams signaled for his troops to withdraw, clearing his throat to regain his composure.  

"If you'll accompany me... err... my lord, I shall arrange quarters for the duration of your visit for you and your retinue."

[XCALIBYR]

Yesterday...


Darth X regarded his reflection coolly, appraising the extent of the damage done by his recent ordeal. He laughed to himself ruefully. His eyes and cheeks were sunken and dark, his lips thin and his body seemed to have lost a portion of its previous mass. He felt weak, tired, disoriented, his soul worn out. Not so much as the previous day, but his recovery was progressing at an agonizingly slow pace. By his reckoning anyway. The medical droids, however, seemed to be unable to fathom how it was his body still functioned, much less how he was up and walking around. They had insisted on a lengthy stay in a bacta tank, the replacement for kolto, apparently, and he had been only too willing to oblige. That he would eventually make a full recovery and come out of it stronger than before, he had no doubts, but time was of the essence. The audience with Darth Algoz had been brief and conducted via holocom, which, Darth X conceded, was best for both parties. Sith politics were ruthless enough as it was without one side having an obvious disadvantage. The only thing more dangerous than a Sith Lord was a wounded Sith Lord. Like most conversations between sith jockeying for position, theirs had been polite with a great many subtle threats and plenty of posturing. In the end, however, there was only one possible outcome that didn't involve the immediate demise of one of the two. Darth Algoz had a power base, Darth X did not and so had sworn allegiance to the Empire. His phrasing had been specific, a detail that did not go unnoticed by this "sith lord", but which could not be questioned without appearing as an insult. Darth X despised politics and hated every minute spent amongst the Dark Council, but he had to admit the experience had been of some use. He was playing for time. Time enough to regain his strength, time to win the loyalty of the Imperial military, time to discover the weaknesses of the Algoz.  Xriss frowned. If not for the cruel twist of fate, he would be crushing the Jedi and the Republic alongside his apprentices and fellow Lords, likely as the new Emperor if the rumors proved true. He'd never know. The records available to him were extensive but the information he sought eluded him. That the Empire fell was clear. Also, some damned fool calling himself Darth Bane had apparently gone mad and decided there could only be two sith. Insanity!  Darth X felt his rage growing to dangerous levels at the thought of the betrayal and clenched his fists to prevent himself from lashing out. How much knowledge lost? How much potential wasted?  Perhaps this was a blessing.  He would restore the sith to glory, he would be the one to shape their future. All it required was time.  Darth X could feel Captain Cole approaching through the force; normally a master of her emotions, her anxiety was palpable.  Using the force to trigger the door release caused a severe spasm of pain to rip down his spine.  Overt uses of the force, it seemed, still caused a degree of discomfort.  Pain was nothing new.  Pain he could deal with.  Pain was life.

"My lord," Cole spoke reverently, entering his quarters and issuing  a short bow and then standing at rest, hands clasped behind her back.

"Report."

"My lord, while some aspects of widely available technology are significantly advanced, it remains similar enough that we, that is, the men and I, should have little difficulty adapting to... our new surroundings," she hesitated, clearly unsettled, and took care to make sure it was known she was certain that her lord and master could overcome any obstacle, be it physical, mental, or technological. Typical Cole.  Cautious and subservient even when unnecessary.  She'd been reprimanded for it numerous times in the past as Darth X found the never ending formalities tedious, and he required his personal assistant to relax, for want of a better term, while not in the company of others of any importance.

"Yes. Nearly four thousand years, and still no voice activated lights," he said in jest, hoping to ease her tension. "What have they been doing with their time?"

"Yes, my lord," she smiled weakly, her presence in the force somewhat relieved.

"Something troubles you, Cole?"

"No, my lord," she answered too quickly. Hesitation.  Uncertainy.  Then, "yes, my lord."

"Speak freely, Captain, please. We are friends, are we not?"  She always became this way when she was nervous. It was a mild annoyance, but even the most inexperienced sith knew patience was a virtue.

"Of course," she smiled freely now, and blushed slightly, looking away in embarrassment. "I... how can this not bother you?"

"What?"

"This," she emphasized the word by using both arms to gesture towards everything in the vicinity and beyond. "All of this!  We're more than thirty-five hundred years in the future with no allies or support save that which you arranged with 'Darth Algoz' and... I... I'm not even a commissioned officer..."

Darth X threw his head back and laughed jovially. "My dear Captain Cole is that what's bothering you?  You think I would abandon you?  Skyler, you are intelligent, brave, capable and reliable. You are the only being in the galaxy to earn my complete faith and trust and you are well aware that I enjoy your company. Even if that were not the case, you have served me faithfully for some years and your loyalty shall be rewarded. Your mind is as sharp as ever, Captain, you are not useless," he said, guessing.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, shaking her head and refusing to meet his eyes out of shame.

"Don't be," he said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Am I some Jedi to tell you to ignore your feelings?" She smiled again at that and the negativity in her force presence began to fade away. "We, all of us, have suffered an incredible trauma. There will be, of course, an adjustment period. It's only natural to feel uneasy."

"You're not," she teased, smiling wider.

"Mmm," he murmured, returning the smile. "I am a Sith Lord. I am prepared for this."

"Really?"

"Of course," he replied, and she knew he meant it.

"Then I shall endeavor to ensure I do not fail you, my lord," she said with conviction and another, deeper bow, her confidence booming.

"You won't. It is the one thing you are incapable of doing. What of the men," he asked, changing the subject before things became inappropriately intimate.

Captain Cole laughed so suddenly and genuinely that she snorted, quickly covering the lower half of her face with both hands. "The men," she said, clearing her throat to regain her composure. "Are more excited than I've ever seen them, the mandalorians as well."

"Oh?"

"They've spent the last few days inspecting weapons and armor as well as the schematics of anything not on site." She couldn't stop smiling. She was very protective of those under her command and took genuine pleasure in their well being.  "They're like younglings on Life Day morning."

Darth X chuckled. It was good their spirits were high. They were the only assets he possessed whose loyalties were unquestionable. "Good. And what of transport? How long are we to remain among the bones of those arrogant nobles of Alderaan?"

"I am given to understand a ship will be arriving within the next day, my lord."

"Good. Good..."

[XCALIBYR]

The Imperial-class Star Destroyer Tuk'ata had arrived with all the majesty of a ship its magnitude the previous day and, indeed, the sith lord and his companions had been impressed. Colonel Adez Brams less so. His expected promotion had come with an unexpected hitch. He had received the dubious honor of acting as liaison to the sith lord, assisting wherever necessary as he and his fellow time lost soldiers adjusted to life in the present. The very notion was absurd, and yet here he was, overseeing the dismantling of the wrecked Sith Interceptor, deemed to contain important data by Darth X despite Brams assertions that anything in the vessels computers would likely be irretrievable.  Nevertheless, his orders were to proceed bringing the Interceptor aboard the Tuk'ata. There had been some debate about how best to go about it among the engineers assigned to the detail and in the end they had come to the conclusion that the only way it could be done without unnecessary risk was to move it piece by battered piece rather than attempt to move it as a whole. An entire day had been lost in the process but they were nearly finished. Another hour and every last bolt, twisted durasteel plate, and dampener would be tucked away in the Star Destoyers auxiliary hangar bay. Brams comlink buzzed. Likely Captain Na'me wondering why his Star Destroyer continued to linger in an asteroid field for the third time since Brams had come on duty.

"Colonel Brams," he answered, his irritation subsiding somewhat after speaking his new rank aloud. It had, after all, come with substantial increase in pay.

"Colonel." The nasally voice of Captain Na?me elicited an eye roll. "You cannot expect me to believe you haven't completed your task yet."

Brams frowned. The way the Captain said 'task' implied it was a simple job capable of being completed in a short amount of time with minimal resources, rather than the mess it was in reality. The Interceptor was little more than a pile of scrap metal and hazardous chemical leaks. Each engineer required bulky protective clothing while working on the wreckage, limiting access to already cramped spaces. The problems involved exacerbated by the fact that Darth X would not allow the ship to be cut apart, for fear of losing precious data. "We're loading the last of it now, sir. We'll be ready to depart..."

"I'll decide when we're ready to depart, Colonel," Captain Na'me interrupted scornfully.

"Darth X may disagree, Captain." Brams couldn't stop himself, and winced. The words had come of their own accord. A soft click from his comlink signaled the end of the conversation. Before, Brams lack of a filter between his brain and mouth would have resulted in disciplinary action. Now, he answered only to Darth X who seemed to appreciate such candid remarks. Brams smiled. Perhaps his assignment wasn't all bad.

***

Captain Na'me signed off and pounded his fist on his desk. Intolerable. Not long ago the Tuk'ata had been the flagship of the Imperial navy, poised to carry the Empire to victory. Now, he was transport for some self-important, half crippled relic who fancied himself a sith lord. He'd read the reports, seen the medical records. Na'me wasn't impressed. He'd served long enough to meet Vader. The deceased Dark Lord of the Sith exuded menace. Captain Na?me considered himself a brave man, but even the presence of Darth Algoz made him feel like a meal about to be devoured by a super predator. Darth X, while arrogant, seemed far too tranquil to be the mighty warrior he claimed to be. Darth Algoz ordered him to this graveyard to ferry about this fool, but Algoz wasn't the Emperor yet.  Other forces controlled Imperial Center and an Imperial Star Destroyer was no toy to be casually handed off to a so-called apprentice.  He allowed himself a victorious smile.  The holocall to Imperial Command yielded not unpleasing results.  His orders stood, but Imperial Intelligence would be dispatching agents to assess the situation and act accordingly.

***

Sweat cascaded down Darth X's face as he hovered inches above the floor of his quarters aboard the Tuk'ata.  His armor was saturated and uncomfortable, but he hardly noticed.  Agonizing pain surged through his limbs, his veins coursed with molten rock, his skull was pulsating, his eyes bursting from their sockets. A tormented scream exploded from the depths of his being and he collapsed to the deck, panting and convulsing.  He snarled, enraged by his weakness and force lightning crackled along his writhing body.  He was diminished.  The power that saved him had taken a heavy toll.  His body was healing but his connection to the force was raw, unwieldy, and any effort at all brought relentless pain.  Darth X forced himself to his feet and staggered to the refresher.  Cole would be expecting him on the bridge soon and it wouldn't do to appear before the crew in his current state.

***

Colonel Brams stood stiffly on the bridge as officers and crewmen scurried about their duties, preparing the Destroyer for departure.  The Sith Interceptor was aboard and all the supplies for the Delta base had been offloaded.  Captain Na'me stood halfway along the walkway that bisected the crewpit and lead to the massive transparisteel viewports, doing absolutely nothing as far as he could tell.  If this weren't an Imperial Star Destroyer their ranks would be equivalent, but Destroyers were considered a line in and of themselves and so were commanded by a Line Captain, a very prestigious position with retirement benefits second only to Admirals and Moffs.  Unfortunately his math skills weren't good enough to get into the Imperial Navy and it was unlikely he would ever make General without major combat experience.  Perhaps Brigadier General, but that would mean finishing his career behind a desk filing reports comprised of other reports written by people like him while his superior made all the decisions and passed all the red tape down.  Brams sighed and glanced up as the turbolift doors parted and Captain Cole stepped onto the bridge, her alert eyes already taking in every minute detail.  The breath caught in Brams throat and his blood turned to ice as she stepped aside and Darth X strode forth, his cape trailing behind him and the black, battle worn helm recovered from the wreckage nestled in the crook of his arm. Brams watched with morbid fascination as Darth X marched up the walkway towards Captain Na'me, Cole following dutifully.

"Captain," Darth X said, by way of greeting, stopping a meter short.  "All is ready?"

"The Tuk'ata will be ready soon, yes."

Darth X paused, presumably expecting more.  An honorific.  Brams swallowed hard.  He should probably do something.  Pulling the datapad from his pocket, he placed an additional thousand credits in the officers pool bet regarding whether or not Darth X would kill Captain Na'me as Vader had been infamous for and how exactly it might happen.  Brams thought soon, and with a lightsaber.  He knew soldiers and he could tell which weapons they favored at a glance.  Darth X, he thought, was very fond of his dual lightsabers.

"Captain Na'me," the dark lord said evenly.  "We've only just met, so I'll forgive the slip, but I am a sith lord and you shall address me as such in the future."

"Yes, so you claim.  I've read the reports.  A very unlikely story.  No, I think perhaps Emperor Palpatine and Vader were the last sith.  And Algoz, of course," Na'me added derisively.  "You, I think are nothing more than a pretender trying to weasel..."

"You.  DARE!"  Darth X roared, his eyes blazing and his lips curled back in a monstrous snarl.  Almost faster than Brams eyes could follow, Darth X struck Captain Na?me?s head with the back of his fist, dislocating his jaw and splitting his skull open.  Na'me fell to the deck, gurgling and motionless and Brams cursed.  The crew, horrified but well trained, turned back to their duty stations and immersed themselves in their tasks.

"Get this mess cleaned up," growled Darth X, scowling down at the now twitching officer.  "And get us out of this frelling asteroid field!"

"Ah... c-course, m-my lord," stammered a young Commander.  Brams couldn't remember her name but she was obviously very brave and likely to become captain of the Tuk'ata.  He'd have to remember to invite her to the officers sabacc game.

"I want to go home," said Darth X, his expression and voice soft.  "Set course for Korriban."