“The S’Varians have granted us landing access on platform 61A,” the AI for Phantom Two said, bringing Colonel Veriss out of his sleep period. “You will be rewarded for your diligent efforts during this mission, Colonel.”

Veriss yawned and stretched the seat of the fighter. “Remind me of when I applied for accolades and medals. I can’t recall signing up for that foolishness.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Phantom Two replied. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

Veriss shook his head and reached for the control yoke. “Well, we are not at war with the S’Varians.” He checked his scanner. “Their feelings are mutual. They are not sending up escort craft. Let’s go meet our friends.” Veriss maneuvered his fighter around a cloud bank. “Phantom Three, cover me as I land. Wait for clearance before you land. I want both of you to remain alert and on standby. No exceptions.”

The capital city of Terrine appeared in the distance, shimmering like a collection of crystals sitting upon a lamp. Veriss checked his scanner. “Phantom Two, run a diagnostic on the scanner. I’m not picking up any lifeforms.”

“I completed a diagnostic while you were in sleep period, sir,” Phantom Two replied. “The scanners are operating normally.”

Veriss shook his head and took another glance at the readout. “They must be jamming part of our signal.”

“I do not concur, sir,” Phantom Two said. “I detect no frequencies that would indicate any attempts to jam our transmission or scanners.”

Veriss furrowed his brow and stared out of the cockpit viewport. “Peculiar. Maintain heightened alert status until otherwise ordered.” He slowed his fighter and locked his gaze on the landing platform below. Several cloaked beings walked along the outdoor passageways. “Even more peculiar. No lifeforms were detected, yet there is activity. I have a bad feeling about this. Stay alert. Phantom Three remain in the air and cover me. I’m going in for a landing.”

Veriss guided his fighter and flawlessly sat it down on the waiting pad. He removed his helmet and climbed down the ladder that automatically moved to the side of his ship. Two tall, cloaked figures moved towards him.

He approached the figures. “Thank you for the landing clear–”

He paused midsentence when the mechanical face of a KX-series security droid appeared beneath the cloak’s hood. He glanced at the second figure. Another KX droid peered at him from beneath the hood and Veriss gasped, “This is unexpected.”

“Colonel Veriss, welcome to S’Varia,” The droid to the right said. “We have been instructed to escort you to the Halls of Banemon. Please, follow us.”

Veriss visually scanned his surroundings. KX droids permeated the platforms like monsters inhabiting a nightmare. Their glowing mechanical eyes studied him while their bodies lifted hover crates from the decks.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened here?”, Veriss asked while keeping pace with the droid in front of him.

The droid turned its head towards the Colonel. “I beg your pardon, Colonel?”

Veriss reached up and pinched his cloak’s hood between his left forefinger and thumb as a blast of rain-soaked wind rushed across the platform. “I asked what happened here. We left a platoon of KX droids to reinforce the S’Varian security detail. And you replicated each other in numbers beyond our instructions.”

The droid’s eyes remained locked on Veriss. “I am afraid I am not at liberty to disclose classified information to you, Colonel. I recommend that you save your inquiries for the interim Adjudicator General.”

Interim Adjudicator General? Veriss pondered mentally. That means I can speak to a breathing being, not a damn machine. “That will be acceptable,” he replied.

He remained silent as they boarded a small speeder before racing away from the droid-infested landing platform. In the damp interior of the craft, Veriss noticed the four KX droids, including the one he had quietly named “Welcoming Committee,” intently studying him. The pair in the cockpit paid him no mind as they guided the craft through the busy sky routes of the sprawling city.

The blackened form of a blunt pyramid appeared within the fog and rain. Veriss watched the structure as the pilots guided the speeder toward one of the lower approach vectors. The beacons on the inner landing platform illuminated the storm-darkened air like a sun emerging from an eclipse. The speeder landed with a metallic clank.

The side opened, and Welcoming Committee moved to the exit and gestured. “If you will accompany me, please, Colonel.”

“Sure,” Veriss said blankly. He followed the droid into the rain that had become a steady downpour.

“There is no need to be concerned,” Welcoming Committee said pleasantly. “We mean you no harm.”

I should have known they would pick up on my wariness, Veriss grumbled in his mind. “That’s refreshing to know,” he muttered. “I feel safer already.”

“I concur, Colonel,” Welcoming Committee said as they approached the triangular entrance to the pyramid. “Follow me into the central gallery and please wait there while I confirm the interim Adjudicator General is prepared to grant you an audience.”

So quick to fulfill my request for a meeting Interesting and alarming at the same time, Veriss thought.

He followed the droid through the triangular entrance and into a corridor lit by plasma torches. The torches warm glow bathed the hieroglyphics covering the walls and the ceiling of the passageway in an orange hue. He paused when a set of images caught his eye. He moved closer to the wall and locked his eyes on pair of wedge shapes orbiting a planet alongside a larger blackened similarly shaped object.

What the hell? These symbols were recorded by the founders of the S’Varian civilization. he silently pondered. How did the ancient scribes know that we would be here at this time?

“Excuse me, Colonel,” Welcoming Committee said, bringing Veriss out of his trance. “We mustn’t keep the Adjudicator General waiting. The hieroglyphics have been here for eons. I am certain they will be here when your meeting has concluded.”

Veriss shrugged. “Right.”

The droid’s blank electronic eyes focused on him for a moment as if it were studying him. “This way, Colonel,” Welcoming Committee finally said. “The interim Adjudicator General awaits you.”

Veriss nodded and followed Welcoming Committee through the doorway. “Of course.”

The vast interior was bathed in shadows. Faint light filtered in through openings in the upper portion of the pyramid’s ceiling. Electronic shields crackled in a rhythmic pattern under the constant pounding of raindrops colliding with the energy barriers. A seated hooded figure remained motionless on a metallic throne situated upon a platform elevated half a meter off of the floor.

The figure shifted and turned its head towards Veriss. Welcoming Committee held out his arm, bringing the Colonel to a halt. “Allow me to initiate the conversation, Colonel Veriss.”

The droid stepped forward and bowed slightly. “Adjudicator General, may I present Admiral Garren Prolov’s representative, Imperial Colonel Tyaal Veriss?”

Control your emotions. S'Varian women can sense your attraction to them, he thought while approaching the throne. "Adjudicator General, I have nothing but gratitude for your gracious permission to land–"

He gasped as he gazed upon the bearded face of a man staring out from him from under the hood.

How can this be, he asked himself silently. The KX droids were instructed to never allow any human outside of House Prolov to ascend to the throne.

Captain Phasma struggled to control her breathing. Her hands tightened around her blaster while she scanned her surroundings. Dead stormtroopers lay on the ground like scattered patches of snow on a mountain peak. She gingerly moved from her position, taking care not to make any sounds as she inched her way across the landscape of obsidian.

The enemy hunted her like a voracious predator silently stalking its next meal. And she would be easy pickings for them now that she was alone. The quietness was a double-edged sword, both a blessing and a curse. It revealed the enemy wasn’t moving in a manner that would give itself away. Yet, it also concealed her as long as she didn’t break its fragile protection.

This darkened world illuminated by a blue sun was both alien and familiar to her.

A dying star is its source of light, but it should be frigid here, not comfortable, she thought while continuing to keep an eye out for the enemy. And the atmosphere has nothing to replenish its resources. It shouldn’t be able to support any kind of life.

A rumbling startled her. She turned her head and zoomed in with her helmet’s night vision. A few small rocks tumbled down the rock wall in the distance. She watched the location for a few seconds before dismissing it as debris dislodged by a rush of wind.

She focused further down the canyon. The corpses of her enemy’s forces were strewn about as if they were debris left in the aftermath of a fierce storm. First Order stormtroopers lay next to Imperial stormtroopers. Mixed in were dead dressed in Clone Armor and even in some designs alien to her.

What the hell, she asked herself mentally. Did we fight the right enemy? Or did we kill one another indiscriminately? And how have the past and present blended together so suddenly?

“Do you not know, Phasma?”, a female voice hissed from the gloominess. “Has Prolov not revealed his darkest secrets to you?”

“Who are you?”, Phasma demanded. “Show yourself, if you want me to take you seriously.”

“Very well,” the voice said.

Phasma noticed movement in the blackened rocks in front of her. A distinguishable shadow moved across the onyx-hued rocks like an angry storm cloud. It twisted and thickened while the closing distance to Phasma. She watched it fold upon itself and take a humanoid form as if it were a dark liquid poured into a mold.

The tendrils of the shape solidified into an entity in a dark hooded cloak, slightly taller than her. It remained silent with its back turned towards Phasma.

“We meet again,”, the entity said in a low rumbling voice. “Come closer, Phasma, if you wish to see the truth.”

“Why should I approach you carelessly?”, Phasma enquired. She laid her finger across the trigger of her blaster. “I can see you from where I stand.”

The entity chuckled. “Perhaps a more familiar form will persuade you.” The shape morphed again into a shorter individual. “Do you not trust me, Phasma?”

“Admiral?”, she replied while relaxing her posture. She took a couple of steps towards him. “What is this place?”

“It is a moment you have not lived…yet,” Prolov’s voice said. “On a world, you have not visited but will soon.”

She drew within half a meter of the back of the entity. “What happened here?”

“Retribution,” Prolov replied.

The figure suddenly spun around and ignited a red lightsaber. Phasma locked her gaze on the glowing amber eyes staring out beneath the hood. The red blade thrust forward and pierced her chest.

She rose in bed with a gasp, covered in sweat. She grasped her chest and wheezed. The pain of the blade’s searing energy was as real as her surroundings. Or at least to her, it was. She swung her long legs from beneath the sheets and stood up. She moved to the refreshing station. A light sensor on the bulkhead detected her presence and instantly illuminated her form.

What is happening in this fleet, she pondered silently. And who is that woman who watches over Prolov?

She stared at her image in the mirror. Her beautiful face wore a mask of shock. Stunningly gorgeous sapphire eyes accentuated her expression. Her golden hair was unkept and moist with sweat, but it didn’t detract from the lovely woman normally hidden from view beneath a cloak of chromium armor.

Phasma filled the sink with water and splashed a cupped hand full in her face. She then disrobed and stepped into the shower. Minutes later, she emerged and began to dry herself. She suddenly felt a chill in the air.

You will learn much about him, Phasma, the entity’s voice whispered. Prepare yourself as you will find it far more disturbing than you can imagine.

Phasma sighed and pulled on her black bodysuit. She covered it with her trademark shiny chromium armor and stepped out of her temporary quarters. She received curious stares from the Imperial crew as she moved down the corridor.

Within minutes, her fast pace carried her to the bridge. Captain Aveen caught sight of her and approached her.

“May I be of assistance to you, Captain?”, Aveen enquired in a pleasant tone.

“I must see Admiral Prolov,” Phasma replied. “It is of great importance.”

Aveen drew in a breath before replying. “He is in a meeting. Is there a message you would like for me to deliver to him?”

If I wanted a personal messenger, I would have asked you, Phasma thought. “Where may I await him?”

“Follow me, please,” Aveen said while walking past the towering stormtrooper commander.

He led her down a long corridor and turned to the left at an intersection. At the end of the passage, two Imperial stormtroopers in armor with red and black markings guarded a blast door. Aveen paused and glanced up at Phasma.

“The emperor specially commissioned this room when the star destroyers in this fleet underwent a refit to become the Apollyon-subclass.”, he said. “It was designed to serve as a throne room for him when he visited the fleet. Prolov, in the meantime, was given the emperor’s permission to use it for his meditation chambers.”

Personal meditation chambers? What other secrets does this fleet hold? Phasma asked herself mentally. “This is new information to me, Captain Aveen. I was unaware that the Apollyon-subclass ships contained such accommodations.”

Aveen shrugged. “I would be taken aback, Captain, if you did know that information prior to your arrival. No one outside of this fleet is privy to it.” He locked his gaze on Phasma’s helmet lenses. “Revealing its existence warrants instant death. Fleet policy, courtesy of Admiral Prolov.”

Phasma watched him as he stepped away. She turned her attention back to the closed door, knowing the pair of stormtroopers were watching her carefully.

What have I gotten myself into? She wondered silently.