Several Light Years Outside Carpentaria System | Beta Quadrant | Milky Way Galaxy
Imperial Date – 26.02.12.1
Bridge Lieutenant Kal Dezon watched his monitors carefully. He had calculated the exact entry vector more than a dozen times, but he wanted to be sure he was right. No, he had to be right. He was an Imperial officer now, and mistakes were something he could not afford to make. The ship's captain was not a forgiving sort, and he had seen more than one crewman suffer for the slightest error. He had no intention of joining those ranks. Dezon had been conscripted into the Imperial Navy from his home world of Unqarth in the Solidarity System. He hadn't wanted to serve the Empire, but he had no choice. His world was one of those still suffering from economic troubles due to the local trade magnates creating world-wide monopolies, and if he wanted his family to remain safe and supported, he had to serve out his term willingly and to the best of his ability. He was one of the many young men serving on Imperial capital ships. His training had been brief but intensive, and it was still going on. But he had proved himself enough to gain an officer's rank and a position in the Bridge Pit of the Interdictor Cruiser Moirae's Fist.
The ship had received a call from the Imperial Star Destroyer Stormlord, asking for assistance in catching a smuggling ship that had jumped to lightspeed three sectors away. Stormlord provided its jump vector, and Moirae's Fist had moved into a likely intercept position. As duty officer at the gravity well projection station, it was up to Dezon to calculate the proper placement of the mass shadows to interrupt the smuggling ship's hyperspace trip. He had done that, and he had also calculated the approximate time of arrival based upon the ship's engine type and vector. All he had to do was order the projection gunners to initiate the mass shadow sequence at the appropriate moment.
The theory was simple. Real-space gravity masses were reflected into hyperspace, allowing navigation and co-dimensional travel. They also made hyperspace dangerous. An uncharted gravity mass in the path of a ship traveling at lightspeed can be disastrous like flying a ship at full speed into a solid wall. Fortunately, modern hyperspace drives come equipped with emergency cut-offs which turn off engines and drop ships back into real-space before they smash into whatever is producing the mass shadow.
With huge gravity well generators, Interdictor Cruisers can produce artificial mass shadows wherever they need, affecting up to half the size of a moderate planetary system. Dezon was about to do just that, knocking the smuggling ship into real-space and keeping it there until the Stormlord arrived. He checked his calculations, then glanced at the ship chrono. Almost time, he noted, and his mouth turned dry. He was about to put his training to the test- for real this time. "Now," Dezon said evenly, speaking directly into his comm unit. The gunners stationed at the four gravity well projectors acknowledged the order. Dezon watched the four gravity wave cones spread out across his viewscreen.
“Come on, where are you?" he whispered to himself, checking his calculations once again.
“There it is," one of the pit crewmen announced. Dezon breathed a sigh of relief as the modified freighter popped out of hyperspace. He knew it would only be disoriented for a second. Then it would try to run. He couldn't allow that. "Hit it with two wave cones, port and aft" Dezon ordered, "and keep the other two ready in case it makes a break for it." As long as they kept the freighter within the directed mass shadows, it would not be able to jump to lightspeed.
Even then, the astrogator would need several minutes to calculate a new hyperspace route. It was technically possible to jump even with a mass shadow detected, but that would require the nav-computer recomputing the route and taking the mass shadow into affect. New model Interdictor's were able to emit what was being called a gravity wave pulse, where the mass shadow being projected adjusted in the intensity with which it was physically impacting the area of space being targeted by the Interdictor Cruiser's crew.
But Dezon knew it would be too late. By then, it would be all over.
A moment later, Stormlord appeared without fanfare or warning. It's arrow-head shape was pointed vindictively towards the trapped ship. It immediately hit the freighter with a barrage of tractor beams and began hauling it toward the open maw of its underside hangar. "We've got it, Constrainer," the Stormlord sent. "Thanks for the assist." Dezon acknowledged the message as he heard heavy foot falls approaching from the command deck. He spun around and stood at attention, restraining the urge to look up at the captain. He stood that way for several long seconds, his head level, his eyes fixed upon the polished black boots of the Constrainer's commander. Finally, the captain spoke. "Good work, Lieutenant," she said gruffly. "We'll make an Imperial out of you yet." "Yes sir, thank you sir," Dezon responded as the captain turned and walked away. He had performed well and had avoided awakening the captain's wrath - this time. He only hoped the next time things would go as smoothly.
Aboard the Imperial-class Star Destroyer Stormlord
The bulkhead doors of the freighter was cut open and a specifically designed charge kicked the metal forward and into the ship. The scrap metal the door turned into landed heavily and noisily, adding to the boom of the initial explosion. Timing was everything and heartbeats after the explosion happened, Imperial stormtroopers burst through the new entryway of the freighter. The first squad through found themselves in the loading ramp area on the starboard side of the ship.
"Delta Squad is in. No contact," the squad leader reported.
"Understood, Corporal CT-097. Continue your boarding sweep. Capture all aboard, alive and as undamaged as possible," the official reply came back.
"Undamaged, eh?" scoffed one of the troopers over the closed-link squad channel.
"Zip it, Tank," ordered the corporal. "We don't need distractions."
The duly chastised trooper, Tank, sent by a single click over the comlink in confirmation. With swift movements and hand signals, the squad exited the cargo loading ramp and entered the main hold. The freighter was your typical Barloz-class medium freighter -- very no frills or shiny. It was popular among small time smugglers and merchant houses alike, which made it a hassle for Imperial Customs to officiate between which ships were legitimate or those breaking the law. Standard crew requirements for these vessels was only two, but the Corporal wasn't taking chances.
They entered the primary cargo bay. It was stacked high with crates. Trooper Tank opened one after being ordered to by a swift gesture from the Corporal. "Just like the Captain briefed us on -- illegal weapons caches." The crate was full of older model blaster pistols, but of military grade -- which made them illegal. "I haven't seen DL-18s in years." The entire bay was visible to the squad, none of the crates were stacked higher than shoulder height. The emergency lights were flashing, tripped by the explosion that had allowed the squad entry to the ship. The Corporal had them switch on the lamps attached to their blasters. The headed towards the front of the ship, the squad splitting to enter both doors that led into the next storage room. One blaster bolt to the door handle and a swift kick was enough to open the way.
The squad dodged inside, blasters raised, and found themselves staring at two beings with their hands up and looking like they'd much rather be anywhere in the galaxy but here. "Hey! No need to shoot, now! We surrender...we don't mean to cause no trouble. Being as how we're honest folk and all." The one who had spoken was a shorter-than average Besalisk, male by the look and tone of him. To the Besalisk's right was a Phuii, slightly taller.
"Would hardly say shipping illegal weaponry across Imperial borders is 'honest'," retorted Trooper Tank, his voice sounding mechanical through the helmet filter.
"Well, times are hard on the frontier," shrugged the Besalisk. "Spent all my credits getting to this new galaxy and it seems to have a lot more problems than what I had back home, more's the bad luck."
"I presume you're the captain of this ship?" asked the Corporal, taking charge.
"Yes sir, that I'd be." The smuggler captain shrugged, all four of his arms moving slightly. "Though I expect to be the captain of naught else but my hide after this."
"You'd be correct," muttered Tank.
The corporal motioned two of his men forward, while the rest of the squad kept their blasters aimed and ready. The two troopers brought out binders and locked the two smugglers up. "Take them out and give them to the Lieutenant for processing," ordered the Corporal. "Rest of you, sweep the ship for anything, or anyone, else you might find."
As they stepped back into the cargo bay, Trooper tank stopped next to the cargo elevator at the center of the primary bay. The computer was beeping and Tank frowned. Why would there be so much power being fed into the secondary cargo bay on a freighter like this? Curiosity getting the best of him, Tank stepped onto the cargo elevator, motioned for his battle-buddy to join him, and then pressed the power stud to lead them down. The secondary was slightly smaller than the primary, as was to be expected. What wasn't expected was the cargo in the room. The light had been doused as the elevator was lowered and when Tank drew his light across the room, it came to rest upon a seemingly great sea of squished, scared, and desperate-looking faces.
"Uh, sir?" Tank spoke over the squad channel. "I think you're going to want to see this and you might want to get the Lieutenant."
