"Wraith-Four, can you breach it?" Lux asked.
Drace studied the door, his helmet's sensors probing its structure. "Affirmative. But it's going to take a heavy charge. And once we blow it, everyone inside is going to know we're coming."
"They already know. Do it."
Drace moved to the door and started placing charges, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. Lux and the other Wraiths took up positions on either side of the door, weapons ready. Lux's heart was pounding, his adrenaline spiking. This was it. The final push. Thrunn was on the other side of that door, and in a few seconds, Lux was going to drag him out in binders.
"Charges set," Drace said, stepping back. "Breaching in three... two... one..."
The charges detonated with a roar that shook the entire floor. The blast door buckled, then blew inward, smoke and debris filling the corridor. Lux was moving before the smoke cleared, charging through the breach, his rifle up and tracking.
The war room was massive, a circular chamber with a holographic tactical display in the center, showing the space battle raging overhead. And around the perimeter, at least a dozen stormtroopers in Thrunn's livery, their weapons trained on the door. They opened fire the instant Lux appeared, and the war room became a storm of blaster bolts.
Lux dove to the side, rolling behind a console as bolts chewed into the floor where he'd been standing. Kael, Venn, and Drace came through the breach behind him, spreading out, returning fire. The war room became a chaotic firefight, the confined space amplifying every sound, every explosion.
"Suppressive fire!" Lux roared. "Push them back!"
The Wraiths advanced, their heavier weapons giving them an edge. Lux rose from behind the console and fired, his shots precise, controlled. He dropped one hostile, then another, his rifle's extended barrel giving him the accuracy to pick off targets even in the chaos. Kael was on his left, his blaster thundering, laying down a wall of fire that forced the hostiles to take cover. Venn was on his right, moving fast, flanking, catching the hostiles in a crossfire. And Drace was in the center, his PLX-1 roaring, each shot a miniature explosion that cleared entire sections of the room.
The hostiles fought back desperately, but they were outmatched. The Wraiths were elite, trained for exactly this kind of close-quarters combat, and they moved with a synchronization that came from years of fighting together. One by one, the hostiles fell, until only a handful remained, huddled behind the holographic display.
And then Lux saw him. Moff Cassian Thrunn, standing behind the display, a blaster pistol in his hand, his face twisted with rage and fear. He was a tall man, fat, his uniform crumpled and dirty.
"Thrunn!" Lux spoke, his rifle trained on the Moff. "It's over! Surrender, and you'll live!"
Thrunn whimpered, a bitter, desperate sound. "I surrender, I surrender. Don't shoot."
"Get down on the ground, now. Hands behind your back." Lux spoke with urgency as the Moff moved according to his instructions. As Lux turned to Wraith 2, and with a nod the man had his knee on the Moff's neck within five seconds- and placed a pair of magnetic cuffs on the Moff.
"War room secure," Lux said into the comm, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Objective captured. Repeat, Moff Thrunn is in custody."
The Commodore's response was immediate, and Lux could hear the relief in his voice. "Outstanding work, Captain. Thrunn's fleet is breaking off. The battle's over. We've won."
Lux looked down at Thrunn, the man who'd thought he could defy the Empire, who'd thought he could carve out his own little kingdom in the Outer Rim. He was just a man now, broken and defeated, his rebellion crushed.
"Get him to the transport," Lux said to Kael. "The Commodore will want to interrogate him personally."
Kael nodded and hauled Thrunn to his feet, dragging him toward the door. Lux watched them go, then turned to survey the war room. It was a mess—bodies, debris, smoke. But they'd done it. They'd completed the mission.
Venn moved up beside him, his helmet's visor reflecting the holographic display. "Hell of a fight," he said quietly.
"Yeah," Lux agreed. "Hell of a fight."
He looked up at the display, watching the icons representing Thrunn's fleet scatter and flee. The Commodore's ships were pursuing, but the battle was over. The Empire had won. Again.
Lux felt a surge of satisfaction, a grim pride. This was what he did. This was what the Wraiths did. They were the Empire's shadows, its enforcers, the ones who did the dirty work so that the galaxy could remain orderly and controlled. It wasn't glorious. It wasn't pretty. But it was necessary.
"Wraith-One to all units," Lux said into the comm. "Mission complete. Secure the mansion and prepare for extraction. We're going home."
As he walked out of the war room, stepping over bodies and debris, Lux allowed himself a moment of reflection. The mission had been brutal, costly. They'd lost good soldiers, men who'd followed him into hell and hadn't come back out. But they'd succeeded. Thrunn was captured, his rebellion crushed, and the Empire's authority was restored.
That was all that mattered.
Lux descended the shattered staircase, his black armor a stark contrast to the white-armored stormtroopers securing the lower floors. They saluted as he passed, and he returned the gesture, a silent acknowledgment of their sacrifice. Outside, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the mansion's grounds. In the sky above, he could see the distant flashes of turbolaser fire as the Commodore's fleet mopped up the last of Thrunn's ships.
It was over.
Lux stood in the garden where they'd first breached the wall, looking up at the sky. Somewhere up there, the Commodore was coordinating the fleet, securing the system, restoring order. And down here, Lux and his Wraiths had done their part.
"Captain," Drace said, approaching from behind. "Transport's inbound. ETA five minutes."
"Good," Lux said. "Get the wounded loaded first. Then the prisoners. We'll be the last ones out."
"Understood."
The transport descended from the sky after a few minutes, its repulsorlifts kicking up dust and debris. Lux watched it land, watched his troops file aboard, and then he followed, the last one to leave. As the transport lifted off, he looked back at the mansion one final time, a smoking ruin on the hillside.
Another mission complete. Another victory for the Empire. Another victory for the Commodore.
And somewhere in the galaxy, another rebellion waiting to be crushed.
Lux settled into his seat, his rifle across his lap, and closed his eyes. The war never ended. But as long as there were Wraiths, the Empire would endure.
------------------
Lux walked through the 'Leviathan' with measured steps, his black armor still scorched and pitted from the firefight in Thrunn's mansion. Blood—not all of it his own—had dried in dark streaks across his chest plate. His left shoulder throbbed where a blaster bolt had punched through his shields and cracked the armor beneath. The ship's medical officer had wanted to treat him immediately, but Lux had waved him off. The Commodore was waiting, and you didn't keep a superior officer waiting, not even to get patched up.
The ready room was at the end of the command deck, behind a heavy blast door that hissed open at Lux's approach. Inside, the space was austere—a desk, a holographic tactical display, a viewport showing the stars beyond. And standing before that viewport, hands clasped behind his back, was Commodore Aaron Rysell.
He turned as Lux entered, and his eyes took in the captain's battered appearance with a single, assessing glance.
"Captain Lux," Rysell said, his voice carrying the clipped precision of Core World aristocracy. "Report."
Lux came to attention, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. "Sir. Moff Cassian Thrunn has been captured and is currently in the brig awaiting interrogation. His mansion has been secured, and his remaining forces have surrendered or been neutralized. The operation is complete."
Rysell nodded slowly. "Casualties?"
This was the part Lux hated. "Eighteen dead, thirty-four wounded. Most of the casualties occurred during the initial breach and the stairwell assault. Thrunn had fortified the upper levels more heavily than intelligence suggested."
"Eighteen." Rysell's expression didn't change, but Lux saw something flicker in his eyes, the cold calculation of acceptable losses. "Out of two hundred. That's a nine percent casualty rate for an opposed assault on a fortified position. Tactically, that's excellent. Personally..." He paused. "Personally, I know each one of those eighteen had a name, a family, a reason for serving. Their sacrifice won't be forgotten."
"No, sir," Lux said quietly. "It won't."
Rysell moved to his desk and activated the holographic display. It showed the system, with icons representing the scattered remnants of Thrunn's fleet being boarded.
"What happens to him now, sir?"
"Interrogation first. I.I and the Admirality will want to know who else was involved in his little rebellion, what resources he diverted, what contacts he had in the Outer Rim. After that..." Rysell's expression hardened. "After that, he'll face a military tribunal. The sentence for treason is death, Captain. Thrunn knew that when he raised his flag against the Empire."
Lux nodded. He felt no sympathy for Thrunn. The man had betrayed his oath, turned Imperial resources against Imperial forces, gotten good soldiers killed. Whatever happened to him in the interrogation cells and the tribunal chamber, he'd earned it.
"Your performance today was exemplary," Rysell continued. "You and your Wraiths executed a complex operation under difficult circumstances and achieved the objective with minimal losses. You've repeatedly shown the effectiveness of Wraith Troopers- perhaps a time for expansion."
"Thank you, sir." Lux responded promptly.
He moved to the viewport, looking out at the stars. "The Empire spans a galaxy, Captain. Millions of worlds, trillions of beings, all held together by force of will and force of arms. And it is all changing; the Empire is fracturing and people are grabbing all they can before it does- and when it does fall. I will depend on you, and Catcher- alongside the Wraiths."
Lux stood silent, absorbing the words. He knew what was happening, yet hearing it placed so bluntly by the Commodore surprised him. And he was right, this was just the first wave- and soon they would rise in size and strength. And he served at Vireen- the Empire had its faults."
"Of course, Commodore. You have it till my last day.," Lux responded confidently and Rysell gave him a nod, "Get yourself to medical. Have that shoulder looked at. And get some rest. We'll be in orbit for another few days while we process prisoners and secure the system. After that, we're heading back to the Core. You and your Wraiths have earned some leave."
"Thank you, sir." Lux saluted, and Rysell returned it with crisp precision. And with that, Lux turned around and left- leaving his Commodore on the bridge to organize the capture of the remaining ships.
-------------------------
Please support me via påetron, it really helps keep me motivated and I'm lowkey kinda broke so any help is very much welcome.
påetron underneath;
Pondsfyre - +20 chapters, alongside 5 other stories of mine. Each 50+ chapters.