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Empire Reforged
Chapter 31: Silence Has Edges
Location: ISV Silver Lance, Mid Rim – Sullustian Corridor Fringe
Date: BBY 8 – Day 12, 0630 Hours
Lucan stared at the tactical overlay—an empty starfield, one wrecked freighter tagged in red, and three faint energy trails ghosting away from it.
"Are we sure these are engine wakes?" he asked.
Holtz responded over comms. "As sure as I can be, Commander. EM bleed is faint, but there's pattern resonance—low-yield impulse drives. Not military-grade. But the trails are clean. Almost too clean."
"Means they dumped heat deliberately," Darran muttered. "Whoever did this knew how to mask their exit."
Valk zoomed in on one trail. "This one ends near asteroid cluster Delta-Seven. Could be where they jumped. Or where they're waiting."
Lucan didn't blink.
"Tarris, slow approach—vector us into the cluster's periphery. Passive sensors only. All active pings stay cold."
"Yes, sir."
He turned to Darran. "Prep a probe. Full sensor suite, but silent. Let's see if the rocks are just rocks."
"Or bait," she said.
"Exactly."
—
The probe coasted into the cluster ten minutes later.
Everyone on the bridge watched as it passed through the field—ice, metal fragments, asteroid debris rotating in slow ballet. Nothing moved. No radiation spikes. No signal echoes.
Until…
> Sensor ping detected.
Source: Unknown. Directional. Passive relay frequency.
Status: Listening.
Valk sat up straighter. "It's not a signal. It's a receiver."
Lucan narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"
"Someone left a passive receiver in the field. Not transmitting. Not responding. Just waiting for something."
"Waiting for what?"
She frowned.
"…a reply."
Lucan folded his arms.
"No time delay beacon. No signature trail. No point in the message."
"So why put it here?" Darran asked.
Lucan stepped closer to the viewport.
"Because it's not for us."
—
They retrieved the probe without triggering a response.
Lucan convened the bridge crew in the command briefing room. The recovered sensor logs played out in a looping hologram: the rotating field, the passive device, and a snapshot of the internal code architecture — too clean for black market, too fragmented for military.
"Any match?" he asked Valk.
She shook her head. "Closest I can find is obsolete Separatist relay tech. But it's been rebuilt. Repurposed. Someone used old bones to build something new."
Corren leaned forward. "That's not a sensor station. It's a dropbox. A courier system for ghosts."
Lucan stared at the map.
"We know the Empire killed the last network."
Darran added, "What if someone rebuilt it… smaller, faster, with better security?"
Lucan tapped a control. The map zoomed out, overlaying nearby systems.
"And if it's testing its reach here—out in the Mid Rim—it's still early in its cycle."
He looked at them all.
"Which means we have time."
"Time for what?" Tarris asked.
Lucan's voice was quiet.
"To kill it before it spreads."
—
That evening, Lucan returned to his quarters and opened the sealed file sent by Centares two days prior. He hadn't read it yet.
It contained a single line from an internal Imperial Intelligence analyst:
> "Commander Virex: maintain patrol integrity. Any shadow systems encountered are to be logged, not engaged. You are a scout, not a scalpel."
Lucan stared at the line.
Then deleted the file.
He didn't need their rules.
Because something out there wasn't following any.
And next time — Lucan wouldn't wait for permission.