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Empire Reforged
Chapter 32: Noise in the Routine
Location: ISV Silver Lance, Patrol Arc Theta-Five, Outer Mid Rim
Date: BBY 8 – Week 5 Post-Centares Debrief
The days had grown quiet.
Not safe — just quiet.
For the past several weeks, the Silver Lance had worked its way through the fractured edge of Imperial-controlled space, intercepting suspected pirate routes, checking transponder traffic, and escorting vulnerable mining haulers through under-protected lanes.
It was the kind of work that earned few medals.
But it made you sharp.
Lucan stood at the bridge's rear viewport, observing the pulsing streaks of hyperspace. The hum of the reactor was as familiar as his own breath.
Darran stepped in beside him, datapad in hand. "That's our fourth operation without a single hostile contact."
"They're adapting," Lucan said flatly.
"You think they're watching us?"
"No," he said. "I think they're watching the Empire."
He turned back toward the central console.
"And deciding which parts of it they can cut away before anyone notices."
—
Tarris's voice came through from helm. "Dropping from hyperspace in twenty."
"System status?" Lucan asked.
"Designated JS-442 — uninhabited, mostly rocky bodies. Abandoned station on moon Theta-Three. Former listening post from the Clone Wars, never reactivated."
Darran tilted her head. "Why are we checking it?"
"Because someone requested a scan," Valk replied from comms. "Anonymous relay came through civilian subspace, tagged for 'Imperial reinspection due to hazard proximity.' Doesn't say what hazard."
Lucan raised an eyebrow. "Official?"
"No."
"Interesting."
The stars snapped back into place as the Silver Lance reverted to realspace.
A broken moon hung ahead, lit by a dying red dwarf star. Orbiting the near side was the station — large, spindly, and clearly long-abandoned. Metal plating flaked from its hull, and exposed gantries drifted aimlessly.
But there were lights inside.
Holtz's voice came over internal comms. "Commander… I'm detecting a power loop. Weak. But not natural decay. This thing was booted up recently."
Lucan crossed to Valk. "Any transmissions?"
"None. Completely dark."
Corren patched in from Security. "Recommend boarding team. We'll go in cold. Standard sweep pattern."
Lucan didn't answer immediately.
Then: "No."
Everyone paused.
He keyed the display and pointed to a small fracture near the docking ring.
"There's a sensor plate. Not active — watching. If they wanted to kill a boarding team, they'd already have done it."
Darran frowned. "So what do they want?"
Lucan stared out at the station.
"They want to see if we ask the wrong questions."
—
Thirty minutes later, the Silver Lance launched a remote drone with an encrypted data spike. It attached to the outer ring of the station and fed low-level telemetry back to the bridge.
Valk's display lit up.
"Localized network. Fragmented. Encrypted. But something's broadcasting inside the station. A repeating loop, extremely compressed."
Lucan moved behind her.
"Can we read it?"
"Already working."
Seconds ticked by.
Then Valk spoke again. Her voice was flat.
"It's a list."
"A list of what?" Darran asked.
"Imperial supply routes," Valk said. "Ones we've never transmitted. Ones that aren't even assigned yet. These aren't old records — they're predictions."
Lucan leaned in. "Someone's building a logistics map."
"Not just of traffic," Valk added, eyes narrowing. "Of blind spots."
Darran looked up. "They're planning a corridor. A cut through the Mid Rim that avoids every sensor net and patrol grid. This isn't piracy."
"No," Lucan said. "It's preparation."
He turned toward the bridge.
"We just found the draft of a war plan."
—
Later that cycle, Lucan sat alone in the command office, reading over the extracted portions of the list.
Every time he expected randomness, he found pattern.
Every time he anticipated chaos, he saw design.
He keyed a new log entry.
> Command Log – Entry 06
*Contact re-established. Shadow logistics detected in derelict station. Structure untouched by patrols for years. Evidence of intelligence-driven observation. No immediate threat — yet.
Recommendation: remain mobile. Do not request reinforcements. Eyes are watching the gaps.
We are not ahead of the storm.
We are inside it.*
He sealed the file.
And ordered the Silver Lance deeper into the grid.