Authors Note 1 is at the bottom of the page.

Prologue: When it all began

Chaos.

Streaks of coloured fire raced across space, disappearing into flaring shields or gouging into durable metal. The small station had been taken by surprise by the attackers. A cloaked frigate destroyed the communications tower. Then a dozen assorted corvette's jumped from hyperspace and started barraging their target. A distraction for the panicking defenders to focus on, as the frigate moved closer. Soon smaller ships jetted out from its hull, their serrated jaws of the prows pointed at the station. Closing in on their prey like piranhas.

By the time the gunners noticed them it was too late. A few of the lighter cannons were quick enough to swivel around and knock a couple of the craft off course, they went soaring past the station into the void. But the rest had an easy shot at the unprotected structure.

As one they impacted the station, it's shielding, weakened by the lasers didn't stop them as they started unloading their cargo of suited-up mercenaries. Armed to the teeth, they spilled out into the compromised corridors. A few of the wilder ones coming out blasters firing, putting bolts into the freshly frozen corpses there, laughing at the sight of the wounds exploding as the iced blood vaporised. Angry orders were barked to get them back into line and they moved out, cutting crews front and centre as they approached the sealed blast door. The cutters lit up and sparks flew from the doors. Behind them their craft released sealant onto the edges of the holes, anchoring them to the superstructure. It would be no fun if their targets asphyxiated, especially if they had to cut through every damn door to get to them.

RED ALERT…... RED ALERT.

The warning blared throughout the station, klaxons and sirens screaming, strobes flashing; many people fell out of their bunks in shock. The unfortunate ones being landed on in turn by their colleagues. Dozing sentries jolted awake. Working techs dropped tools, banged heads and fell downstairs as the station began to shudder under repeated blasts. In the hangers, the few pilots raced to their old X-wings and made to take off. Only to get into loud arguments with the ground crews desperately trying to fuel and arm them in the shadow cast by the gunship whose profile dominated the hanger. It's dark and angular shape, menacing in the red glow showed its pedigree, a warship. Built for war by warriors. Onboard on the bridge, a solitary figure was busy working on a terminal with his back to the viewports that would reveal the unfolding chaos below.

RED ALERT….RED ALERT.

They cut through the first door, substandard material, as per instructions the breeching team backed off and the more, excitable members crowded to the front, eager to take the first kill, weapons up, twitchy trigger fingers trembling. A ruthless kick ensured the door fell in with a clatter. They poured in blasters opening up on the hapless Gonk droid, crewmen and a guard, the last of which flung himself round a corner in a blind panic, hands scrabbling at his belt for the radio. Blindly grasping the sphere he indented the button and began to scream into it, unaware of it's rapidly increasing bleeping or the bug-eyed Rodian that had him at blaster point before shooting him, chuckling at the carnage in the now dead man's torso as he moved forward. The rest of them came running around the corner.

Just in time for the rapid whine of the thermal detonator to reach a crescendo as it exploded, killing the front runners and blowing the legs off a Trandoshen while vaporising the guard's body. It checked the advance briefly, before they surged forward again, although, with many of the rasher dead, they were more cautious. The armoured figure at the back, stoped briefly to double-tap the roaring Trandoshen before catching up.

No loose ends.

The blast had gotten attention however, a squad of security came running along the corridor and charged around the corner.

Straight into the fire.

The front two were blown back into the wall, their limbs falling in a messy pile with the remains of the torso and guns, a third was sent spinning, arms hanging off by a bit of gristle. The fourth, seeing the now pink and brown wall turned and ran back, slamming his fist onto the door controls, before belatedly snapping a shot off at his counterparts on the opposite side.

Satisfied he took off like a scared rabbit reaching to his belt and grabbing his radio, yelling for anyone to hear that they've been boarded, calling for reinforcements. A discorded cacophony responded they'd seemingly been boarded everywhere.

Up in the backup communications room, a wrinkly old human spoke urgently into a holo-com one dark hand loading the blaster pistol as a tech frantically worked the backup communications console.

"Yes Sir Fen, the base is under assault, a light capital ship with escort corvettes. We have also been boarded in multiple locations, our resistance is disorganised and my men are falling back to prearranged hardpoints."

The beaked form of the old Talorti was visible in the com, his tone was carefully neutral, his orders precise.

"Very well. In the event of the potential capture of any sensitive technology, destroy it. The Harbinger must not fall into the hands of this force, escape with it if possible, if not destroy it too. I wish you the best of luck in battle Commander Zet"

He responded with a nod of affirmation to the com as it shut off. He dropped it on the table before calling out to the sweating techie.

"You. Fired a blaster before?"

Seeing the shaky nod from the youngster he tossed the freshly loaded pistol to the tech, a dry amusement present on his features present as he hefted his heavy disruptor rifle.

"Good, stick with me, and maybe we'll make it out of this shit show alive."

Turning to the door he marched through it, gesturing to the two soldiers either side to fall in, they followed him, flanking the trembling tech. Their own rifles at the ready as they double-timed it to the labs, collecting a few more security personnel and armed crew along the way.

Once there they tossed detonators into the labs and blasted the computers. A bitter action gave it was nearly a year of work. Unfortunately, the explosions caught unwanted attention. A dozen mercenaries appeared behind a newly opened door and opened fire, bolts gouging into the unprotected flesh of crewmen, exiting their bodies and striking were dead before they hit the ground.

Their deaths were not in vain, Zet and his veterans swung and opened up on the attackers, the purple of disruptors arching as it struck them. More agonized screams rang out as those they struck disintegrated into ashy skeletons. By now the crew-members had responded from their meagre cover and poured fire into the survivors. Soon they were all cut down, for the cost of another four crew members.

With a signal he moved out, intent on reaching the pilot's quarters, they needed to get that ship out. Feeling a stronger rumble under his feet and hearing the increasing volume of combat, he knew it had to be soon. They weren't going to be able to hold.

She felt glee. Her attack had gone perfectly. They were completely unaware. Standing from her chair, blue fingers wrapped around one armrest as she devoured the readouts from her displays. Feeling a small surge of satisfaction as one by one the station's batteries were blasted to ruin. A stray shot from her ship's guns impacted the hanger doors, scorching them and her previous good mood. A glare and harsh command at the guilty subordinate resolved the issue, she desired the secrets of the station for herself. Her informant promised a very unique ship was being constructed here. She wanted it. And when she had it, the cannon fodder's role was at an end. She didn't want any loose ends, after all, they tended to trip one up at the most inopportune moments.

It was hard going. They had clearly broken through several checkpoints and were gunning down anything moving in their way. Smoking ruins of the station's droids and the charred corpses of its inhabitants littered the hallways. Checkpoints had blasted apart and overrun. Often they had to stop and gun down stray intruders.

He was a veteren though and soon he had reached the staircase below the living quarters assigned to their test pilots. Hearing maniacal laughter and the sounds of a light blaster as it impacted flesh.

Right before the armless body of a snarling Trandoshen broke the flimsy railing and landed at his feet. It disintegrated before anyone else could react, soot and strips of charred meat clinging to the thick skeleton. Making his way up the stairs carefully, trying to avoid the strewn bodies of various beings as he reached the entranceway.

"Hey, Drinker you in there?"

"Yep. Come to join the party commie? it's hella dead in here at the moment though."

Moving into the door frame, weapon held low he beheld a strange sight, Drinker was crouched in the en-suite shower cubicle, a line of dark bottles behind him. The entire front of his shirt was soaked in booze and he swayed slightly, beard plastered to the torn chequered shirt. There was nothing wrong with his aim though, as the steady hand on the long-barrelled pistol proved. A cursory glance showed the other two pilots slumped bodies over the remains of the poker game. Returning his attention to the now standing figure he decided to be direct.

"Get up Drinker, your taking her out on a flight."

"Good to see you too Commie, Good to see you too. You Gamoran headed muscle chewer."

He paused briefly as his drunken mind processing the information. Before a maniacal grin formed showing stained and chipped teeth.

"Sheeut. I get to fly that baby? Count me in, let's go."

They made their way to the main hanger stepping over fresh steaming corpses, a worryingly large number of which were familiar faces. The noise of battle, blasters and screams, grew louder as they approached the twisted remains of the hanger airlock. Through which they could see a fierce battle playing out. The invaders had burst through and were now advancing towards the Harbingers bulk while the remaining personal fought back with whatever came to hand, blasters, plasma torches, even the cannon from one of the X-wings, hooked up as an impromptu turret. Zet could even see some of his men firing, their disruptors striking with every shot, atomising cover and foe alike. He and his men burst onto the scene, catching many of the attackers from this door off guard and killing them.

Drinker and the techs rushed forward with them firing at any movement as they slid into cover.

With that, the remaining attackers crouched down behind their cover awaiting reinforcements from the far door, the noise of cutting equipment clearly audible. Zet and Drinker made their way to the defenders, a nod of appreciation at how they were being marshalled by a grey whiskered ground sergeant. He quickly saluted, giving away his origins as an ex-imperial.

"Sir."

"At ease sergeant. Status?"

"Bad sir, command and the barracks have sealed themselves in. Fairly certain the crew quarters are overrun. Reactor and the Shields are in lockdown, they can't get in there with their current equipment."

"Very well. Drinker! Get onto that ship, and get it out of here."

The sodden pilot loped towards the Harbingers open cargo bay, long legs eating up the distance, dodging the few shots that came his way, his head twisted over his shoulder. Of course he had the last word though.

"Love you too Commie, drinks are on me next time we meet. Have fun."

With that, he disappeared into the hold weaving between stacks of cargo crates. A flask at his lips. Zet looked at the unimpressed sergeant and turned around, the sight of the closed main doors catching his eye. A hand to the comm produced only static.

"Sergeant, where's the closest place to get those doors open?"

A gnarled hand was raised and pointed at the glass box perched midway up the wall.

"The control booth up there, sir. The closest way to it would be via the stairs that way."

"Very Well. Adjant, Maggah, Shek and Jones. With me"

Without a pause, he strides back the way he came, the four named forming a box around him, their own disruptors held at the ready. Casually shooting any corpses that twitched and the few remaining borders still alive in the hanger. They reached the corridor entrance and started advancing carefully down it to the stairs.

Everything was quiet, only the sounds of weaponry in the depths of the station and the last echoing tremble of the floor from the attack. Zet didn't wait, signalling to two to remain. He and the other two went up the stairs to the control room, finding the door buckled in its frame and low conversation trickling out. One of the men reached for a flash-bang, eager to avoid damaging the equipment further. Pulled the pin and counted and tossed it through the doorway.

A startled exclamation.

BANG!

Perfect timing.

He moved in low, feeling the blasters skim over his back and impact the wall behind him, coming out of his roll he shifted his disruptor up and fired at two of the three occupants in quick succession, one of his men catching the third as he entered. A low moan caught their attention. Tied to one of the chairs was the tortured naked torso of one of the engineers. Strips of flesh hanging off as blood drips from the empty eye sockets. One of his arms had even been gnawed on and half twisted off. Zet saw the guard who'd accompanied him in turn away in disgust and move back outside. Drawing his combat knife he approached the pitiful figure.

He made it quick.

With a quick glance outside he saw the blueish-purple hue of the engines intensifying as they warmed up, the ship lifted off from the cradle and angle to face the centre of the doors. Turning to the console he powered up the hanger shields and pulled the lever.

The doors were opening. Satisfied he turned and jogged out, troops falling in behind. Nothing needed to be said. Reaching the stairs their pace quickened when they heard the distinctive sound of disruptors firing. Jumping down a flight they reached the two remaining on guard there. Jones was firing down the corridor at a group of leathery Weequay, their skin no match for the weaponry. Adjant had his rifle hanging from one hand as he stiffly tossed a grenade behind the group before resuming firing, his shoulders scorched black. A close miss.

They start to sprint back to the hanger, hearing the renewed sound of combat from within. Maggah suddenly wheeled round and shot at a duo of enraged Trandoshans that had appeared behind them. Adjant did the same. The Trandoshens ducked for cover. Zet spun round and provided suppressive fire as Maggah and Adjant sprinted past them into the hanger. Soon following them. Just in time to see the Harbinger Roar out of the hanger while the far door was kicked in, allowing a flood of attackers into the bay. Ducking behind cover he started shooting back. Trying to think of a way off the station.

Meanwhile, while all this is going on. On the Harbingers bridge.

"Stupid code. Why Pyong can't leave a changelog I do not know. Or better yet stick to his own damn code. Inherent talent my ass. All he does is make my code more complicated"

The long-haired figure rubbed at his red-rimmed eyes, shifting the glasses up his forehead as he pondered the massive morass of code and where his 'colleague' had changed it. Muttering away he continued to work. Until the bridge doors opened to allow an eye-wateringly alcoholic mess of a man to stride in. Short buzzcut hair contrasting with a long beard as the dingy brown greatcoat flapped around him as he went straight to the pilot seat.

"Drinker?"

"What'd you expect to see a Twi'lek Stripper?"

He guffawed and shifted to the pilot console, hands dancing over the controls. Switching the ship on. Ignoring the unimpressed tech.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? My bloody job. This ship can't be captured."

The tech was increasingly confused.

"Captured?"

"Yeah. That lot down there aren't here for a drink that's for sure."

The tech started and ran to a security console pulling up the camera feeds. Stunned by the sight that awaits him.

"You done gawping? Then bloody well help me start her up then. Bah. It's like working with an imperial again. Once the programmings broke they just stand around like toy soldiers."

The tech winced but made started inputting commands into the console. Prepping the ship for takeoff. They worked quickly without sacrificing care. Till they felt a slight shudder as the ship lifted of off its cradle. Seeing the doors opening Drinker angled the nose for them. Shooting a look at the tech. He yelled out a gangly arm gesturing at a nearby console.

"Hey what are you waiting for, gun those bastards down."

Nodding the tech took command of one of the point lasers and opened up on the crowd of pirates spilling out from the entrance, mowing them down. Till the ship shuddered and pulled away soaring out of the hanger.

From the frying pan into the fire.

There were half a dozen corvettes around the hanger exit along with a frigate. All of which opened fire on the Harbinger as it zipped past, careening around the frigates bulk. Most of the shots went wide, striking the other corvettes. The Harbingers own armament activated as well, lasers racing into the corvettes while a spread of proton Torpedoes surged towards the frigate. Howling with laughter Drinker swerved them round again. Nearly ramming another corvette. He flicked open a channel.

"Hey Commie you slowpoke, you gonna join the party? I promise it's a spicy meatball out here. You don't want to miss it, it'll kill you if you don't."

"What the hell are you doing! This is suicide."

Drinker just laughed again at the panic in the techs tone.

"Never you mind, just keep on working them systems. Commie got me out, I'm returning the favour. Not to mention if we each owe each other around that's two rounds of drinks, and two rounds are better than one."

The tech's shoulders slumped, acknowledging the futility of arguing with a professional drunk. One statement slipped past his lips, however.

"You're insane."

As the ship soared over her bridge. She couldn't believe her luck, the ship was Fenn's newest personal ship. Such a prize. She would prove herself once again, and get a shiny new command ship, standard Crusaders were prizes, never mind one as clearly modified like this. And in the middle of a refit too, a golden opportunity.

"All ships focus fire on the Harbinger, but I want it intact. Don't let it escape."

"Yes Sir."

She fixed a glare on the gunner from earlier.

"And you. Do not make that mistake again, or you'll be strapped to the Turbolaser next time it fires."

Seeing the panicky nod she proceeded to ignore him. Too intent on her prize dancing around, just at the edge of her fingertips.

Soon she would have it.

Soon.

Zet heard Drinkers exuberant voice over the cons and smiled, that mad bastard would piss off a n whole fleet of with no crew on an experimental warship. Yelling over the tumult of battle he gestured for his men to pull back to the secondary hanger, falling back in stages as they gunned down more opposition, the ground crew manning the X-wing cannon made a flying leap as a rocket struck it, the ammo's explosion peppered his back with shrapnel and blasting him into a security man. Securing him with one hand in a fireman's' carry they continued to fall back in good order, to Zet's approval.

Although their pace was only increased by the dying screams of the defenders in the barracks echoing over the stations comms and the drop-ships depositing even more soldiers into the hanger.

Once everyone was through Zet shot out the controls to the hanger, prompting the emergency fail-safe to kick in and slam the doors down, separating them from their pursuers. There were some fifty people in the hanger, and more security engaged in a fire-fight at the other entrance. Grimacing he gestured to his soldiers to load people up onto the transport. They had a limited time window to do this in.

With everyone loaded he got through to the command deck, it was about to be breached. Seeing no hope the duty officer acceded to Zet's order and opened the hanger bay doors.

Soon the drop-ships pulled out of the hanger, immediately jumping to hyperspace bound on an unknown vector. Their escape was unnoticed by the attacking ships. So intent was they on the Harbinger.

"That's it. They've gone. Let's leave." he was shouting at Drinker now, panic clear. He couldn't fathom how they hadn't been killed already.

"Right you are Ed Davies. Say do you give 'Ed?"

Howling with laughter once more at the techs expense as they jumped into hyperspace leaving behind their pursuers to eat stardust.

"NOOO! YOU FOOLS! How could you let them escape?! Get half those incompetent fools to chase them down. The rest of you form up on the station. Kill all on-board except the technicians. I will not leave here empty-handed."

"But Sir..."

The unfortunate crewman was lifted out of his seat by his neck to come face to face with the glaring red eyes of his commander."

"What?"

"The st-tation itsss..."

Onboard the station in the command room, the duty officers finished inputting the code before joining her fellows at the barricade.

"Everyone. A pleasure knowing you."

With that, he drew her own pistol and aimed at the nearly breached doors. Awaiting her death with dignity, and determined to go down fighting. Just as the doors kicked in he feels a shudder from beneath her feet.

She staggers and fires, catching the patchy Wookie through the eye, the great creature going down like a felled tree squishing a scarred Rodian. Then everything flared white.

"AAAGGGHHH!"

She's enraged by the sight, the explosion of the station's reactor destroyed any hope of useful salvage or prisoners, what's more two of her corvettes were gutted by the blast and sent reeling. Her own ships shields had held. Just. Tossing the limp necked crewman back into his station, she started to scream orders at the terrified bridge crew, she was going to have the Harbinger. It was a ship in a class of its own and she would have it. By her aunt, she would have it.

Authors Note 1:

First of all, thank you for reading this chapter and I hope you have enjoyed it. This is the first time I've written anything of any real length.

The story is set in the Star Wars Universe sometime after the original trilogy, (4,5,6) prior to going back over half a century to before the Clone wars. While I will attempt to be as canonical as possible regarding characters/locations/rules/etc I will be altering multiple events which will change the timeline significantly.

Regarding the source material. The Disney cannon does not exist for the purpose of this story, much of what I'm using is from the 'Extended Universe' Legends.

So as for the story, it will contain descriptions of violence, wounds and torture. Similar to the examples this chapter. However I highly doubt I will be writing explicit and drawn out torture/death's.

As for sexual themes, they will likely be limited to teasing and nudity, although there will be no explicit sex scenes contained in this story. The most there could be would be the insinuation of it occurring before the scene cuts, or comments on it afterwards.

Having said that I will be attempting to show the a diversity of cultures in the galaxy so...

DISCLAIMER: Opinions and statements made in this story are not intended as endorsements to any person, organisation or thing. Nor are they necessarily supported by the Author in any form. Not that I believe that anyone would assume that, but it's internet.

I believe that's everything, please let me know if I have forgotten to cover anything else here, and have a good day.