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Empire Reforged
Chapter 17: The Place That Wasn't There
Location: Outer Dust Verge – Designated "Unknown System Theta-11"
Date: BBY 8 – 0700 Hours
The Vigilance emerged into black.
No stars within three million klicks. The system's central body was a brown dwarf — massive, lightless, radiating barely enough heat to register on the bridge sensors. A cold world hung in its orbit, misshapen and fragmented. And beyond that… nothing.
Except the signal.
"Tracer ping active," Valk reported. "It's bouncing off a wide-band emitter… planetary source, low orbit. Origin matches the dummy archive. They took the bait."
Lucan didn't reply immediately.
He stood at the forward viewport, eyes narrowed. The bridge was quiet, lights low, crew at full alert. It wasn't the silence that bothered him — it was the precision.
This place hadn't just been chosen.
It had been built to vanish.
"Tactical scan," Lucan ordered. "No emissions burst. Passive sensors only."
Darran keyed the board. "Atmosphere is barely breathable. Ice field across 70% of the surface. No cities. No signs of population centers."
"No signs doesn't mean no presence," Lucan said.
"Reading faint orbiting objects," Tarris added. "Irregular pattern. Could be debris… or sensor drones."
Lucan took two steps forward.
"This system was never on our maps."
"Because someone paid to keep it that way," Darran said.
"Or killed anyone who asked."
—
The ship crept forward on thrusters only. The closer they moved to the planet, the more details emerged: shallow valleys, spiked terrain, massive old ice ridges. And tucked along the planet's terminator line, a series of artificial gridlines buried beneath snowpack and frost.
Darran leaned in. "Captain… I'm detecting a low-level shield envelope across that region. Ground-based. The energy signature matches—"
"Imperial prototypes," Lucan said coldly. "Older than what's in current use. Probably repurposed."
Valk's station lit up.
"Incoming signal."
Lucan turned sharply.
"Source?"
"Ground transmission. Short burst. Audio only. Non-military band."
"Play it."
A voice crackled through the bridge — male, older, smooth.
> "Courier 7: You are off-cycle. Redundant data node detected. Is this confirmation of Protocol Dustburn?"
No one on the bridge moved.
Tarris blinked. "Dustburn?"
Lucan spoke into the silence.
> "Broadcast on their frequency. Reply code as Courier 7. Response: Affirmative. Dustburn active. Stand by for live relay confirmation."
Valk stared. "We don't know what Dustburn is."
"They do," Lucan said. "And now they think we're part of it."
Darran stood. "Captain. We have to assume they're armed. This could be a deep-cell rebel base. Or something worse."
Lucan's eyes remained locked on the growing outline of the frozen valley.
"Doesn't matter what it is. We're here now."
—
The Vigilance maintained a high orbit, weapons cold, shields active.
From the planet, a single response came.
> "Landing vector authorized. Clearance grid nine-zero. Maintain radio silence. Dustburn confirmation in-person only."
The transmission ended.
Lucan turned to Darran.
"You have the conn. Tarris, prep the shuttle. Corren leads the security detail. Five troopers, light gear. No heavy armor. We go quiet."
Darran stepped in his path. "You're going down there?"
Lucan didn't blink. "They want confirmation in-person. That means they expect someone to show."
"You're the captain. You shouldn't lead a ground drop."
"I'm the only one they haven't seen yet. And I'm the only one who's been speaking their language."
She hesitated. "If it's a trap—"
"It is."
Lucan adjusted his gloves.
"Set engines for fast burn. If we're not back in two hours, you leave orbit and torch this valley from low orbit."
Darran frowned. "There could be a hundred people down there. Maybe more."
"Then they've chosen the wrong side of the line."
He turned and strode toward the shuttle bay.
The Vigilance watched from above as its commander descended into the cold.
And somewhere beneath the frozen clouds, the ghosts waited.