The mansion sat like a carbuncrete tumor on the hillside, its angular Imperial architecture silhouetted against the green-tinged sky of Velmor. Captain Lux watched it through his helmet's enhanced optics, the black-tinted visor of his Wraith armor filtering the late afternoon glare into tactical overlays and threat assessments. Two hundred meters out, crouched in the tree line with two hundred stormtroopers at his back, he could see the guard rotations on the outer walls, the shimmer of shield generators, the subtle bulges where automated turrets tracked the perimeter.
"Wraith-Two, status," Lux said into his comm, his voice modulated through the helmet's vocoder into something flat and mechanical.
"Eastern approach clear," came the response. Sergeant Kael, one of his three Wraith subordinates, was positioned on the mansion's flank with fifty troopers. "Two guard towers, minimal activity. They're not expecting company."
"Wraith-Three?"
"Western perimeter secured." That was Corporal Venn, the youngest of the Wraiths but no less lethal. "I've got eyes on their speeder pool. Six bikes, one transport. All grounded."
"Wraith-Four?"
"North side's a fortress." Lieutenant Drace's voice carried a note of professional appreciation. "Triple-reinforced blast doors, heavy repeating blasters in fixed positions. They're not getting out that way, and we're not getting in."
"Copy all." Lux shifted his weight, feeling the familiar heft of his modified E-11D blaster rifle against his chest plate. The weapon was heavier than standard issue, equipped with an extended barrel for improved accuracy and a high-capacity power cell that could sustain suppressive fire for twice as long. Strapped to his back was a PLX-1 portable missile launcher—the Wraith Trooper's signature heavy ordnance. Black armor, black weapons, black visors. They were the Rysell's heavy infantry, and today they would fall across Moff Cassian Thrunn like an eclipse.
His helmet's HUD flickered, and a new comm channel opened. It was time, the green signal had been given.
Lux stood, his black armor absorbing the fading light, making him a void in the forest's green shadows. Around him, two hundred stormtroopers rose in synchronized silence, their white armor a stark contrast to his darkness. They were good soldiers, well-trained, disciplined. But they weren't Wraiths. They would follow where he led, fight where he pointed, die if necessary. That was the difference between regular stormtroopers and special forces—Wraiths chose their deaths. They made them count.
"All units, this is Wraith-One. We move in thirty seconds. Wraith-Two, take your element and neutralize the eastern towers. Wraith-Three, western approach, disable their vehicles and secure the speeder pool. Wraith-Four, you're with me on the main entrance. Standard breach protocol—shaped charges on my mark, flash-bangs on entry, suppressive fire to establish the kill zone. Rules of engagement: anyone in Thrunn's colors is hostile. Anyone who surrenders gets bound and tagged. Thrunn himself is to be taken alive. Questions?"
Silence on the comm. Good.
"Then let's remind the Moff why you don't betray the Empire."
Lux moved forward, and two hundred soldiers moved with him.
The approach was textbook. Lux had run infiltrations like this a dozen times—on Felucia, in boarding operations. The key was controlled aggression: move fast enough that the enemy couldn't organize a response, but slow enough that your own forces didn't fragment into chaos.
They crossed the open ground in a low run, using the natural terrain for cover. Lux's HUD painted the world in tactical overlays—friendly markers in blue, suspected enemy positions in red, objectives in gold. The mansion's outer wall loomed ahead, three meters of reinforced duracrete topped with sensor arrays. Not insurmountable. Not even difficult.
"Wraith-Two, execute," Lux said.
Two kilometers to the east, Sergeant Kael's element opened fire. Lux heard it through his helmet's audio pickups—the sharp crack of blaster rifles, the deeper boom of a repeating cannon, the sudden wail of alarms. The eastern guard towers lit up with return fire, tracers cutting through the twilight like angry red insects.
"Contact east," Kael reported, his voice calm despite the firefight. "Engaging. Towers are hardened, but we're keeping them busy."
"Wraith-Three, your turn."
"On it." Venn's element surged forward on the western side. More blaster fire, more alarms. The mansion's defenses were waking up, but they were looking the wrong way.
Lux reached the wall and pressed himself against it, feeling the cool duracrete through his armor's environmental sensors. Lieutenant Drace materialized beside him, a ghost in black armor, his PLX-1 launcher already unslung and armed. Behind them, a hundred stormtroopers stacked up in assault formation, weapons ready, visors reflecting the growing chaos around the mansion's perimeter.
"Charges set," Drace said, his gauntleted hands moving with practiced efficiency as he placed a ring of shaped explosive charges around a section of the wall. "Breaching in five."
Lux switched comm channels. "Leviathan, this is Wraith-One. We're at the wall. Breaching now."
The Commodore's response was clipped, distracted. "Reinforcements have arrived, he will make an attempted escape if he finds himself losing. Make this quick."
"Understood. Out."
Drace stepped back, his thumb hovering over the detonator. "Firing, in three, two, one. Clear!."
The charges blew with a sharp, focused crack that punched a man-sized hole through the duracrete. Smoke billowed out, and Lux was already moving, his E-11D up and tracking as he plunged through the breach. His helmet's filters cleared the smoke instantly, revealing a manicured garden beyond—ornamental trees, a fountain, decorative stones arranged in geometric patterns. And stormtroopers. Six of them, wearing Thrunn's personal livery, a red stripe down their armor's right side.
They were turning, raising their weapons, mouths opening to shout warnings.
Lux fired first. Three shots, center mass, and the nearest trooper went down. Drace came through the breach behind him, his heavier blaster rifle thundering, and two more hostiles dropped. The remaining three managed to get shots off—wild, panicked bolts that sizzled past Lux's head—before the stormtroopers pouring through the breach cut them down in a withering crossfire.
"Clear," Lux said, scanning the garden. His HUD showed no additional heat signatures, no movement. "Wraith-Four, secure the breach. First and Second Squads, with me. We're pushing to the main entrance."
They moved through the garden in a tactical wedge, weapons covering every angle. Lux's boots crunched on gravel paths, his armor's servos whispering with each movement. Ahead, the mansion's main entrance was a massive durasteel door flanked by columns, the kind of ostentatious display that Imperial officers loved. It was also a fatal funnel—anyone trying to breach it would be exposed to fire from the windows above.
"Wraith-Two, status," Lux said.
"Eastern towers neutralized," Kael reported. "We're pushing to the secondary entrance. Moderate resistance. Thrunn's guards are falling back to interior positions."
"Wraith-Three?"
"Speeder pool secured," Venn said. "Thrunn's not leaving by ground. We're moving to link up with Wraith-Two."
Good. The noose was tightening. Lux studied the main entrance, his tactical mind calculating angles, fields of fire, blast radii. The door was too heavy for shaped charges—they'd need the PLX-1. But firing a missile at point-blank range in an enclosed space was a good way to kill your own troops.
"Wraith-Four, I need a precision breach on the main door. Can you do it without bringing the whole entrance down on us?"
Drace moved up beside him, studying the door through his helmet's targeting system. "Affirmative. Low-yield warhead, shaped charge configuration. It'll punch through the door and detonate inside, clearing the immediate entry point without collapsing the structure."
"Do it."
Drace knelt, bracing the PLX-1 against his shoulder. The weapon was a brutal piece of engineering—a meter-long tube capable of firing anti-vehicle missiles, anti-personnel flechette rounds, or shaped charges depending on the warhead loaded. He'd selected a breaching round, a specialized munition designed for exactly this kind of work.
"All units, fall back ten meters," Lux ordered. "Wraith-Four is going loud."
The stormtroopers retreated, taking cover behind the garden's ornamental walls. Lux crouched beside a stone planter, his rifle trained on the door. Drace's targeting laser painted a red dot on the durasteel, right at the locking mechanism.
"Firing."
The PLX-1 coughed, a sharp pneumatic hiss, and the missile streaked forward in a blur of propellant exhaust. It hit the door and detonated with a sound like a thunderclap, a shaped explosion that punched through the durasteel and vaporized the locking mechanism. The door sagged inward, smoke pouring from the breach.
"Move!" Lux was up and running before the echo faded. He hit the door with his shoulder, his armor's enhanced strength driving it open, and plunged into the mansion's interior.
The entrance hall was a killing ground.
Lux registered it in the first half-second: a wide, open space with a vaulted ceiling, marble floors, a grand staircase leading to the upper levels. And stormtroopers—at least twenty of them, positioned behind overturned furniture, in doorways, on the staircase landing. They'd been waiting for the breach, and now they opened fire.
Blaster bolts filled the air, a storm of red energy that turned the entrance hall into a lightshow of death. Lux dove left, rolling behind a stone column as bolts chewed into the marble where he'd been standing. His HUD lit up with threat indicators, his helmet's computer tracking each hostile's position and calculating firing solutions.
"Suppressive fire!" he roared into the comm. "Establish the kill zone!"
The stormtroopers behind him didn't hesitate. They poured through the breach in a disciplined rush, spreading out, finding cover, returning fire. The entrance hall became a cacophony of blaster fire, the sharp crack of E-11s mixing with the deeper boom of heavy repeaters. Smoke filled the air, the acrid stench of ozone and scorched stone.
Lux leaned out from behind his column and fired, his E-11D's extended barrel giving him the accuracy to pick off a hostile on the staircase. The trooper went down, tumbling over the railing. Lux shifted targets, fired again, dropped another. But there were too many, and they had the high ground.
"Wraith-Four, I need that staircase cleared!"
"On it!" Drace had taken cover behind an overturned table. He rose, the PLX-1 on his shoulder, and fired. The missile streaked across the entrance hall and hit the staircase landing, detonating in a blast that shook the entire structure. Stone and bodies flew, and when the smoke cleared, the staircase was a shattered ruin, half-collapsed, the hostiles on it dead or dying.
But the ones on the ground floor were still fighting. Lux could see them maneuvering, trying to flank his position. Professional soldiers, well-trained, loyal to Thrunn. They weren't going to break easily.
"First Squad, left flank! Second Squad, right! Push them back!"
The stormtroopers moved with mechanical precision, advancing under covering fire, using the entrance hall's pillars and furniture for cover. Lux moved with them, his rifle barking as he engaged targets. A hostile popped up from behind a couch—Lux put two bolts through his chest plate. Another tried to rush from a doorway—Lux caught him mid-stride, the trooper's momentum carrying him forward even as he died.
The firefight was brutal, close-quarters, the kind of combat where hesitation meant death. Lux's training took over, his body moving on instinct, his mind cold and calculating. He wasn't thinking about the men he was killing—they were just targets, obstacles between him and the objective. Thrunn was upstairs, probably in his war room, coordinating what was left of his rebellion. Every second they spent in this entrance hall was a second Thrunn could use to escape or fortify his position.
"Wraith-Two, Wraith-Three, where are you?" Lux demanded, dropping behind cover to reload.
"We're at the secondary entrance," Kael responded. "Heavy resistance. They've got the corridor locked down with repeating blasters. We're working on it."
"Work faster. We need to link up and push to the upper levels."
"Copy."
Lux slammed a fresh power cell into his rifle and rose, firing. The hostile forces in the entrance hall were thinning now, their positions overrun, their fire slackening. A few tried to retreat, falling back through doorways into the mansion's interior. Lux let them go—they'd just lead him to Thrunn.
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