Chapter 2
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CHAPTER TWO:           Doctor Arthur Sunrider furrowed his brow at the readouts on the control station. "There's definitely something wrong with the navicomputer," he nodded, "according to the calculations we should be halfway to Dantooine by now. But it insists that we're on the outer fringes of Hutt Space. We should drop and see if we can reset navigation to the correct bearings. Radiation from the Sullust Device may have scrambled the readings when we left normal space . . ."

            Kithain shook his head but did not turn to face the professor. The jump to hyperspace had indeed been bumpy, but a simple computer error was no reason to risk detection. "It's too risky," he warned; a fiery glint flashed in his eye, "We drop out of hyperspace in the wrong place we'd likely be detected by Imperial sensor droids. They'd have gravwells on us before we even got out of the area."

            "If we don't check our bearings, we may end up in orbit of Coruscant, for all you know," Arthur protested, "It's a risk either way . . ."

            There was silence a moment as Kithain grimaced. "Colonel Rieekan," he snapped, not turning his attention from the viewport, "Take the good professor back to his bunk. And make sure he stays there until we arrive at our destination."

            Rieekan stood and approached the diminutive professor, glaring down at him. Sunrider did often at times detest the lack of manners that he found within the Rebel Alliance’s ranks, but he was not fool enough to challenge the colonel outright. Without a word of protest, he turned around and headed for the rear of the ship where the rest of his associates were. But just before reaching the corner that lead into the bunks, the professor turned and said something Kithain could barely make out, "I pray that you are right, General. Not just for our sakes, but for the sake of the entire resistance . . ."

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            Grand Moff Tarvik struggled slightly to pick himself off the deck of the DEATH STARs overbridge. The chamber was dark; save for a few blue and orange-colored emergency lights that illuminated the corners of the area. Admiral Raschuu brushed the dust out of his cream-colored hair and picked his crumpled hat off of the floor. "Are you all right, governor?" he asked.

Tarvik placed his hand on his head and nodded as the Admiral helped him to his feet. His whiskers twitched as he fixed his tinted red goggles and peered about. Several men were unconscious at their stations and at least four were dead. He frowned, "Give me a station-wide damage assessment and find out the status of the main reactor . . ."

Admiral Raschuu looked surprised. "But, sir—" he began, "—on emergency batteries only it could take days for my men to compile a full report . . ."

Tarvik furrowed his brow and looked at the admiral through his tinted goggles. "I do not care if you and your men have to search this battle station deck by deck, I want a full report. Is that understood?"

Raschuu looked slightly down from his commander's gaze for a moment. "Yes—" he acknowledged with a slight nod "—I understand fully, milord."

"Good," Tarvik said, turning painfully to look out the giant panoramic viewport windows, "I await your return."

Admiral Raschuu clicked his heels together and nodded in the proper Imperial salute. He turned around and headed for the exit, carefully stepping over a body that had fallen in the walkway. He pushed a command in on the keypad inside the arch of the exit portal, gently slid the door open and stepped out.

Tarvik continued to stare out the viewports; the star pattern was unfamiliar here. He turned around. "Panteen, Correl," he snapped at two officers that were groggily picking themselves off the deck and moaning slightly at their throbbing brains. "I want you to determine, exactly, where we are."

Sub-Lieutenant Correl wiped his cut forehead. He winced a moment as he realized the pain. "A—as you wish, milord."

Ensign Panteen, however, was already on his feet. He saluted the Grand Moff and helped his comrade to stand. "But . . . milord—" he ventured "—whatever that energy burst was, it scrambled the navicomputer, we would have to do a full re-imaging of the—"

"I don’t care if you have to use a compass and a sextant," he growled, "I want to know where we are. I will not repeat myself again. Is that clear, gentlemen?"

"Quite clear, milord," Correl managed to say, holding his hand to his wounded forehead, "We will have our position calculated as soon as possible . . ."

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 "Any luck with sensors?" Commander Weiss asked, pacing around the lower area of the bridge, toward the Ops and Helm stations.

Cyber Hare turned around in her swivel chair to look at Romeo. "I've been able to cut through about sixty-seven percent of the quantum interference," she reported, "But the object is coated in some kind of neutronium composite crystal. At this distance, it's preventing our sensors from peering very deep into it."

Captain Xavier stood from his command chair and approached the Operations Station as well. "How much data have you been able to collect?"

Cyber punched a series of commands into her control station and a partial diagram showing the deck and superstructure of the DEATH STAR appeared on the viewscreen. "From what I've been able to discern, it is some kind of massive space habitat. There appear to be living quarters, operations centers, garbage compactors, bathing facilities and a host of other compartments buried beneath the armored surface."

"Like a Dyson Sphere?" Xavier offered.

"No," Lieutenant Hare twitched her ears, "a Dyson Sphere would have a diameter on the magnitude of two AU’s, and most of the inner volume would be hollow. This station has approximately a one-hundred-sixty-kilometer diameter and from what I can tell, the entire inside of the structure is filled with various compartments and equipment spread across over approximately thirty-seven thousand decks. Unlike the signature from a star inside a Dyson Sphere, I can detect no traces of active radiation emissions from within. However, without moving the ship into closer range of the target, there is little I can do to gather more data than what I have here."

"Well then," Marc said, "We'll have to move closer. Find out what this thing is and determine if it is a threat."

"No," Romeo differed, "not until we figure out more about what we're up against. Lieutenant Hare, can you recalibrate the long range sensors to search specifically for life signs in the quantum interference?"

"I can try, commander," Cyber returned, "but with the interference levels as high as they are—"

Romeo overriding him like that slighted Xavier, but the captain chose not to call him on it. "See what you can do," he said, and turned to his officer at the tactical station. "Lieutenant Pardek," he addressed, "I want you to continue to sweep all subspace and radio frequencies for any transmissions coming from that sphere."

"Yes, captain," Selune nodded.

"Ensign Felstrom," Commander Weiss said, moving away from the Ops Station and returning to his seat along with the captain, "Take the transwarp drive offline. Have warp power on standby; I want to be able to get out of this area at the first sign of trouble."

"Aye, sir."

Lanna Tigris looked distressed. Sitting quietly at the back of the bridge at one of the science stations, she had been running the test data for the transwarp drive through the computer over and over again. "Way to go, kitty," she muttered to herself, "R & D finally let you play with one of the new toys and the first thing you do is break it . . ."

"This is Chief Engineer Khajja VonKlatt to the bridge. What in blazes is going on up there?"

            Lanna did her best not to make a face when the voice of her counterpart echoed over the COMM system.

            Xavier rested his hands on the arms of his chair as he took a seat. "I suggest you come up here and see for yourself."

            Khajja let out a grunt. "I'm on my way," he confirmed, turning to one of the assistant engineers, "Dute," he called, "Cover my post while I'm gone."

            Ensign Dute Wilier snapped up from staring at the readouts on his station. "Yes—" he blinked, "—yessir."

            VonKlatt nodded and turned toward the large exit doors. He muttered something, "Well, if the high and mighty won’t come down, at least they let the lowlifes come up for air every so often . . ."

            The turbolift doors to the bridge parted with a soft whisper and the towering frame of Khajja VonKlatt appeared. "Well, captain?" he halfway-demanded, turning his gaze down on Xavier in his command chair, "What is going on?"

Lanna was doing her best to stay unnoticed. Xavier looked up a moment to the Engineer and then turned his attention to his Operations officer, "Put it on screen." He said.

As Marc finished his sentence, the awesome image of the DEATH STAR appeared on the viewscreen. Khajja's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Mother of Venus!" he exclaimed, "What is that?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Lanna’s muffled voice came from the back of the bridge.

"Captain," Lieutenant Hare interrupted, "I'm picking up an energy increase. It's too weak to be any kind of weapon, but it seems to be emanating from the object's northern hemisphere . . ."

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There was a short whining sound in the Command Center of the DEATH STAR as the lights sprung to life. Tarvik looked up and around as the area was again showered in standard white light.

"Secondary systems going operational, milord," a nameless officer reported from his station, "It looks like someone was able to get fusion reactor number seven back online. Emergency power systems are twelve percent restored."

Moments later, a small hologram of Admiral Raschuu appeared at the armrest of Tarvik's command chair. The small figure saluted as the image crackled and fizzled. "We've managed to bring one of the fusion reactors back online." he reported, "It's not enough to fully power the station, but it should be sufficient to supplement emergency batteries and keep the air-recycling system and secondary lightning functional until we reach the main reactor. My men are still at work assessing the damage; so far it seems that the main power distributors suffered the most ailment. We will keep you posted, milord."

Tarvik nodded. "Good," he praised, "Carry on as you were. Report back at regular intervals."

Admiral Raschuu bowed to his commander. "As you wish."

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            ". . . and thus, the sky shall be opened, and from it spill forth a new power; one with the taste of both Good and Evil. And out of the mouth of the wounded sky will appear a world which the hand of The Creator did not form. When the season of the world is not yet manifest, two vipers shall appear among the spirit of a false peace. Beware those speakers of peace, for they shall deceive many and bring the 'Death of the Stars' upon all who should oppose them."

Two young Bajorans sat huddled around a computer terminal, reading intently as the enigmatic message crawled across the screen. They were both young, neither of them older than twenty-one, and were dressed in casual tunics, the most common “street wear” on their planet.

The girl was named Osapu Aeretha, her last name coming before her first as it was traditionally on the planet. She was a ferret with braided black hair and grey-colored eyes, which looked like the clouds of a storm. She had pursed lips, a small black nose, and pale brown fur. Around her neck she wore an amulet, with the Bajoran inscription of “Osapu” on it; a family heirloom.

Next to her was Talunar Edam, also a ferret, with dusty brown hair and ice-blue eyes. His fur was grey, and he had a wild look in his eye, common of an eager idealist his age. He wore no family heirloom, but had his hair pinned up at the back to keep it out of the way.

Aeretha paused, running her hand over the screen. She motioned at a group of symbols and instructed the computer to highlight them. "The Death of the Stars?" she looked up at her companion, “Sound cryptic enough to you?”

Edam studied her eyes for a moment, "There must be something wrong in the translation," he suggested, "the Bajoran scribes did mention that they couldn’t make any positive sense of the symbol used to represent that phrase. I've heard it translated as 'murderer of worlds', 'leviathan of the sky' and things like that. I've even heard one scholar suggest that it may be a Planet Killer, like the one the CONSTELLATION ran into on Stardate 4202.9 . . ."

"A Planet Killer?" Aeretha blinked, "I don’t think I've ever heard that one before . . ."

Edam smiled inwardly, pleased to bring up something Aeretha had not suggested. They had both been studying these ancient texts for several weeks for the Bajoran Planetary Academics Institute, the university that they both attended. Their final project in their religion course was to research a piece of ancient literature, decipher it’s meaning, and present their findings to the class.

The young Bajoran Edam had spent the better part of the semester trying to get closer to Aeretha, but as such had failed to get her attention. This final project seemed, to him, to be his last opportunity to win her over. But so far, the most impressive display Edam had been able to make were subtle insights into the writings they were trying to translate. "Death of the Stars." Edam mused, "Perhaps a trilithium weapon?”

Despite her lack of response to Edam’s past approaches, Aeretha was quite aware of her classmate’s aims and was flattered by them to a point. The boy was handsome enough, and was polite to her, but something about Edam’s character made her feel comfortable only when he was at arms distance. What Aeretha accomplished with clear thinking and reason, Edam tried to accomplish with faith and gut-feelings. Sometimes, to her chagrin, Edam would come to a solution faster than the path of reason, but Aeretha usually felt no greater enjoyment in life than when she proved him wrong. "I have no idea,” Aeretha let out a frustrated sigh, "let's just move on . . . we'll come back to it."

Of course Edam would never admit it when she outdid him, so their mental duals became relegated to an endless string of pokes and skirmishes at the end of which they would both claim victory. Intimacy through competition, someone once called it, but that was a battle which both of them had yet to fight out.

Edam sighed and continued to read the translation on the computer screen. "For a time, the false peace shall reign, but it will soon be torn asunder. There shall be Two; one to preside over the calm and the other over chaos. The Lord of Calm shall question his ways and the Lord of Chaos will destroy them, but even he, for a time shall bow before his master. Only when his time has been fulfilled shall he be loosed upon the heavens to bring his terror and dominion upon Creation. The Prophets know, foreknew, and shall know of these tribulations, and therefore pour out their wisdom upon the rock, and thus . . .”

"And thus . . . what?" Aeretha asked, her eyes glimmered in interest.

"I don’t know." Edam replied, "The computer is still working on the translation . . . it's a new symbol the system hasn’t read before. It's going to take a while to decode it . . ." he looked helplessly back at her.

A low-pitch rumbling noise began to in the distance. Edam and Aeretha looked around in confusion as the sound grew louder and deeper, until the room they were in began to shake.

            "Earthquake!" Aeretha shouted, "Get under the desk!"

            Edam hesitated. "There has never been an earthquake in these parts before . . ." But before he could protest his disbelief anymore, Aeretha pulled him under the desk with her. The room continued to shake for a good four minutes. Edam took the opportunity to hug her, feigning a protective reflex. She wasn't fooled by it for a second, but she did not pull away. Books fell off their shelves, papers slid onto the floor and everything that wasn’t nailed down clattered with the motion of the earthquake. They waited several seconds after it ended to make sure it was safe to come out before leaving the shelter of the desk.

            Edam let her go, "Are you all right?"

            "Yes, I'm fine." she replied as she turned her attention to the translation equipment, "The computer seems to be okay as well . . . Edam?"

            But the boy's attention was on something else. His eyes were wide and his attention fixed on the sky outside. The land was unusually dark and when Aeretha approached the window she realized why. "The third moon isn't supposed to eclipse for another three years . . ."

            Edam's eyes never turned away. ". . . . the land that was once before never shaken shall suddenly come to life. The sun shall turn dark and thus, the sky shall be opened, and from it shall spill forth a new power; a power with the taste of both Good and Evil . . ."

Aeretha blinked. "Don’t start with that."

Edam turned to look at her, that signature glint bright in his eyes, "Start with what?" he smiled, "I don’t know about you but I'm going to take the rational and logical course of action before jumping to an unsupported conclusion." he was mocking her, and she batted him in the back of the head for it.

"Very funny, Edam. In any case, we'd better consult Vedek Barrel about this . . ."

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            "Is it over . . . ?" The hooded figure looked around. She wore a grey cloak over her head that draped down to her ankles. The townspeople of Kenthra Province looked as shocked as she was. Perdia Detami was not used to being on planets where even the earth below her feet was unreliable and the feeling of being on one made her uneasy.

            There was shout from over the hillside, down a dusty road. A plume of dirt rose up from behind the hill as a young Bajoran man ran up the path toward the marketplace. It wasn’t until he cleared the mountain that she could make out what he was yelling, "We have angered The Prophets! We have angered The Prophets!"

            Perdia Detami squinted to see through the crowd of people toward where the yelling was coming from. She stepped out into the street, ignoring the bewildered stares of several of the Bajoran townspeople and looked around. Before she realized it, the man who had been running down the road and shouting crashed headlong into her and knocked her to the ground.

            The girl instantly recoiled, drawing into herself. A beat later she shouted at him, perhaps a little too loudly, to ward him off. "Hey! Be careful!"

            The man sat up from the sprawled position he had landed in on the road and looked at the mountain cat he had bowled over. "Forgive me . . ." he stuttered, "I did not mean to hit you."

            She kept her distance, but softened when she realized he likely was not a threat. "It's okay." People were starting to crowd around them and Perdia was suddenly felt more anxious. She stood and helped the man to his feet.

            The Bajoran ran a hand through his raven hair and looked embarrassed. "I am sorry."

            "Just watch where you're going, next time—okay?" she chided, backing out to escape the crowd and wiping the dust off her cloak. Her hood slipped back from her head, revealing her chin-length, choppy red hair and shining violet eyes. Her face was young; she looked no older than fourteen or fifteen and too thin for both age and height.

            The man stood up from the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust that made Perdia cough slightly. "Citizens of Kenthra Province!" he shouted, raising his hands in the air and waving them to the people around, "Hear what I say! We have angered The Prophets and they have sent a warning to us!" he pointed to the sun, from which the unscheduled eclipse had now passed, "We must go to the keepers of the Ancient Texts and ask of them what we should do, lest The Prophets reveal their wrath towards us!"

            "All right . . ." The mountain cat blinked, "Anyway . . ." she turned and started to make her way through the crowd and down the road toward the city of B'heli.

            The man called after her, "Wait."

            She turned to face him.

            "You're not Bajoran."

            She shook her head, "No, I'm not. If you'll excuse me—"

            "Tourists usually do not come this far in. What is your business here?"

            "That doesn’t concern you. I'll be on my way now." she turned again to leave, but the crowd would not move from her path. Her ears lowered, she was trapped in the circle. She turned around again, "What do you want from me?"

            "Never before has an earthquake come to our land, and when it does, we find you. Perhaps The Prophets are not displeased with us, but with you."

            The young girl narrowed her eyes, "I don’t have a quarrel with any of you. I'm simply passing through. I don’t know anything about your Prophet . . . things, now just let me pass."

            The man pressed on, "How dare you blaspheme the name of The Prophets. Do you mean to bring their wrath on us again?"

            Perdia was fuming. "Just who do you think you are?" she demanded.

            "I am Jar Elsa, son of Eridu."

            "Listen, Jar Elsa," she growled, "I don’t take kindly to being called a heretic. You people have priests, don’t you? Why don’t you ask them what the problem is? Maybe you forgot to sacrifice a calf last week or something . . ."

            "Listen how she even now defiles the names of our scribes!" he shouted, "Only offering her to The Prophets will take their wrath from upon us."

            The crowd began to murmur in agreement. Perdia back toward the center of the crowd as the townspeople began to turn on her. She sighed, realizing that her smart comments hadn't helped the situation. The townspeople continued to close in on her, and she reached into her cloak. She pulled out a silvery cylinder-shaped device with a black grip and grasped it in her palm. A blue-violet column of light shot forth from it and she backed up into a battle stance, twirling the energy blade around her. "I told you to back off . . ."

            The townspeople stopped dead in their tracks and a frightened mumbling started to circulate through the mob.

            "I don't want to hurt anyone . . ." she said, ". . . but if you keep this up, I'm not going to have a choice . . ."

            A tense few seconds went by before the mob of townspeople began to slowly break up. The violet-tinted blue column of light retracted back into the curious cylinder and she stuffed it back underneath her cloak before turning to run off down the road to the main city.

Chapter 2
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