A Sneaking Suspicion

[Cyrus Tregessar]

With a barely perceptible hiss, an almost silent tribute to the skill of those who had built it, the ship exited hyperspace running silent and swift. Those on board had good reason to want to go undetected, the temporary capital world of the Galactic Republic was no place for an unregistered corvette to fly in to bright as a Star Destroyer. Especially not when this particular corvette was actually a Sith warship.

For a few moments, the crew and single particularly distinguished guest held their collective breath. The hyperdrive remained fully charged, they were ready to jump at the slightest indication they had been noticed. Seconds ticked away slowly, then a minute, then two. Finally the person seated in the commanders chair stood up.

“That's long enough, we would've seen something if they'd noticed. Status report, all systems.”

The speaker was none other than Admiral Cyrus Tregessar, who was probably a bit high-ranked to be running a corvette. But this wasn't your average corvette, and there was more to this mission than a simple peep and piss-off in Anaxes.

“Baffle drive running, exhaust trail is down to uh... point-zero-eight.”

Cyrus gave a silent chuckle at the colloquialism used by the spacer. The ship wasn't even in active service and it had already been struck by a spacers abbreviation. Technically it was a Baffled Thrust Drive System, but whatever got the point across worked as far as he was concerned. If he were a superstitious man, it might even be a sign of good luck.

“We should look like a comet if they see us at all. Alright people, good work so far, time to begin.”

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

The Admiral was hardly the only person on board who seemed out a place. There were about 20 other guests, some of whom would be better suited to larger ships, and some of whom had no place on a warship at all. Administrators, scientists, and industry captains, all here to see if the concept ship would work.

Most of them had had no idea that the 'test' was going to involve a very real prowler mission. They had raged and cried 'treason' as the ship was making the short transit from Coruscant to Anaxes (or more accurately, from Coruscant to a point rimward of Anaxes, then from that point to Anaxes), but now they were cowed and silent. Their lives depended on the crew being able to work with no distractions, and if nothing else they were a self-interested lot.

Cyrus turned to them now, enjoying the power he had over their lives. Fear wasn't even a factor to him, though whether that was a symptom of his peculiar insanity or reflection of his confidence in the ship wasn't very clear. Death was an old friend to him, they'd squared off several times in the past. Played that game a few times, so the old saying went.

Death hadn't won yet.

“The hardest part is the hyperspace jump. If the Republic had pickets watching our angle of approach and able to get a track on us, we'd have half a dozen frigates bearing down right now. As it is, the odds are against them, as long as we keep all our sensors passive. The.... baffle drive can regulate the energy output of our thrusters, giving us the energy signature of a comet, tramp freighter, or starfighter if we want. So really, despite all your cowering, we're quite safe. For now.”

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

At least a Sith wouldn't be curled up by the escape pods. They tended to charge in to meet death, an admirable trait, but not always the most desired one. The Shadow was a shining example of that in ship form. There was nothing overtly hostile about the ship, a pair of well-piloted fighters could blow it into space dust.

But the capabilities it provided for the Sith Navy were beyond compare. Somewhere between the beginning of the gulag plague and the end, people had forgotten the art of warfare in space. More often than not, the victor was the one with the best information and the ability to shape the battlefield as they saw fit, not necessarily the one with the biggest guns. The Protectorate knew that, as evidenced by the Shield ships they had used to devastating effect multiple times.

“Admiral, the array is rigged and ready to stream.”

Cyrus looked up, and nodded to acknowledge the message. “Very well, stream the array. Update on the progress every 10 minutes.”

The Multi-Functional Towed Array was one of the key components of the Shadow. Consisting of a series of linked sensors on a cable stretching out almost 20 miles, the array enabled the ship to see just about anything for several light-hours around it. It was unfortunately an unwieldy thing, requiring an hour to stream out and as long to recover, and very limiting on the corvette's mobility.

And here they weren't even turning it on, merely letting it out and then taking it in. It would also be a test of just how effective the stealth systems were, since it meant two hours sitting on the edge of the Republic capital. That bit Cyrus had neglected to mention to the guests, they were trouble enough as is.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

“Fourteen thousand meters deployed. Green across the board,” came the call from the operator seated at Sensor Control. The same call given for the past twenty-two minutes.

“Very well,” was Cyrus' response. The same reply he'd given for the past 13 calls, one made for every 1000 meters deployed.

It was a simple process that could, on a bad day, get extremely complicated extremely quickly. If the ship altered course too drastically while streaming, there was the potential for the array to get tangled, or for there to be too much tensions placed on the cable. Either would likely cause them to cut the cable, thus losing a rather expensive piece of equipment.

Once the array was deployed, the speed restrictions went away, but you had to watch your acceleration and maneuvering was even more precarious. Having a 30,000 meter tail wasn't exactly how most spaceships were designed to operate.

One of the guests approached Cyrus, a senior administrator. The sort of person who the Admiral hated dealing with normally, but they had their hands on the money, and money was needed to make more of the ships.

“We've been sitting here for nearly 30 minutes. Your stealth drive is fine, but what about object sensors? What about the-”

Cyrus fixed him with a glare, cutting the man off mid-sentence. “In the future, you will address me as Admiral. As for why we have remained undetected, the ship is coated in energy absorbent tiles. Object sensors depend on a return of some sort to indicate something is there. The tiles absorb all the incoming energy, so as far as they can tell, we don't exist. Unless they send some ships out here to look."

The look on the mans face shifted from distress, to calm, to distress again. He retreated without another word, and returned even closer to the escape pod hatch than he had been before. Cyrus just sneered. At least the civilians were providing some amusement.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

“Twenty-nine thousand meters deployed. Green across the board.”

“Very well.”

Fifty one minutes had passed, and the ship had so far remained undetected. At least as far as appearances went. For a moment, Cyrus idly considered if the Republic knew they were there, and was setting up to ambush them, perhaps intending to capture the ship and its crew. But nothing he'd seen since he'd joined the One Sith showed that the Republic had that level of aptitude when it came to war. If they were detected, the system would light up with comms traffic and ships cranking up to battle speed. A standard and predictable response.

“Thirty-thousand meters deployed. Array is stable, green across the board. We're fully deployed, sir.”

“Very well. Begin passive search. Stream team stand by to recover array.”

For the next few minutes Cyrus merely watched as surveillance data poured into the vessel, carefully organized and analyzed by the technicians and specialists on board. One key point stood out. A hyperspace signature, en route to the system.

A chance to make this operational test a little more conclusive.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

“Recover the array. Operator, keep track on contact hotel-one-one. I want that on the main display.”

“Aye aye, sir, recovering the array.”

It had taken just under fifty six minutes to deploy the array, and they'd been idling with it out for right around ten more. Twice they had detected an active sensor sweep, but there remained no indication that they had been seen. In an open space environment, the risk of detection was probably greater, as there were simply fewer objects to scan and less clutter around. On the other hand with the sensors onboard the Shadow-class, they would see anyone conducting an active search well before they were seen.

It was a potentially deadly game of cat and mouse for any warship. The Shadow was meant to weight things in the Sith's favor.

“One thousand feet on deck, green across the board.”

“Very well.”

Only forty odd minutes more to go.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

“Twenty-eight thousand feet on deck. Green across the board.”

“Very well.”

Now he was at a decision point. The contact previously identified as H-11 was still inbound. In a few minutes he would enter the Flight Control Zone for Anaxes and emerge from hyperspace. By chance, luck, or fate, for around forty seconds prior to that happening, it would be within range of the Shadow's interdiction field.

Of course the immediate activation of the field would alert every Republic ship in the system that an uninvited guest was present. At best, the tiles and baffle drive would serve to confuse search efforts for a few minutes, which was more than enough time to spin up the hyperdrive and jump away.

Probably.

It would also prove without a doubt that the ship functioned as designed. From stealth systems to the sensor array. If there were any doubts held by the observers onboard about the viability of the project, this would dispel them. Assuming they didn't die of panic.

It was worth the risk.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

“Thirty thousand meters on deck. Array recovered, we're free to manuver.”

“Very well. Ready interdiction field for deployment.”

The crew may have been startled by the order, but they responded with commendable efficiency. Fewer than five seconds had passed before Cyrus had the required response.

“Field ready for deployment on track H-11, target angle zero-six-eight, one-three-three. Standing by.”

Cyrus paused only long enough to see the reaction of the guests. Most looked resigned, as if they either had given up worrying or were finally content that he knew what he was doing. A few looked truly terrified. Hah, as if being servants of the Sith meant they had any right to live anyway.

“Deploy interdiction field. All sensors active, conduct full system scan. Spin up the hyperdrive, weapons and shields to full.”

One minute the corvette lurked alone and unseen in its corner of space. The next a medium-sized transport was ripped out of hyperspace, close enough that it could be brought up on the visual scanners. More significant, though, was the sudden surge in comms traffic and massive jump in active scans that set off nearly every alert and alarm onboard the small corvette. Without a doubt, they had been noticed, and every single one of those signals was intercepted by the transceivers on board and recorded for later analysis.

It also meant it was time to get the hell out of there.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

“Strike craft inbound. Thirteen thousand kilometers and closing...”

“New contact! Uh, looks like a frigate, twenty-two thousand kilometers, accelerating right at us.”

“Vampire vampire vampire. Vampire track kilo-mike-seven-one. ID as Assault Concussion Missiles. ETA three mikes.”

The calls came in unceasing. If anything, Cyrus was impressed by the speed at which the Republic forces had moved in to engage the Shadow. Perhaps they weren't entirely useless after all. It didn't matter, though, they had plenty of time to get away.

Almost as an afterthought, the corvette fired a pair of missiles at the incoming fighters. Given the distance between them there was almost no chance of a hit, but it would've felt wrong not to give the Republic capital a little kark you. At the very least, it gave the weapons technicians something to do besides sit anxiously by their consoles.

“All hands stand by for emergency jump to hyperspace,” Cyrus called out across the 1MC. He had hardly finished before the ship lurched and vanished from realspace. They weren't entirely safe yet, Republic forces would have likely tracked the vector and would pursue, but it was a routine matter to drop out after a minute or two, turn, and jump again. Standard evasion procedure.

In an hour or two they would be safely back in orbit over Coruscant.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Grinning evilly, Cyrus turned for the last time to address the assembled observers. As a whole they looked beaten down and haggard. Tired of having their so-called authority thrown in their faces, no doubt.

“That concludes the operational test. All systems performed flawlessly. If there are any concerns or complaints, I will address them now.”

The cluster of civilians didn't move, speak, or even seem to breathe. That was proof enough for Cyrus that the project would be approved. Such a simple thing, to get funding for a line of corvettes, and yet it depended on so many who were totally unqualified to make the call.

“I can assume then, that there will be no issues in approving full funding for the Shadow-class?”

Again his comment was met by silence, until the administrator from before stepped forward.

“You can have your ships, Admiral, as long as you never do something like that with me again.”

Cyrus rolled his eyes. How the weak always felt they had to assert their position. Why couldn't fools and imbeciles be satisfied with being the pawns they were? He didn't reply at first, simply stood up and walked right up to the man. He towered over him, and when he looked down to meet the administrator's gaze his face was a mask of pure calm.

“I wouldn't dream of it. Now get the hell off my bridge.”