Muunilinst's Open Orbit

The Belphagor a Victory III Star Destroyer drops from hyperspace and enters a geosynchronous orbit over Harnaidan. A Shuttle launches from the ship and decends towards the ImpCom complex.

x1 -Victory III Class Star Destroyer - “Belphagor” FLAG, TF2/TF3LEAD (cpt. Gagarin) CIC: Codename: "MAGNETAR"
Length:
900 meters (Star Frigate Class: 32 points)
Armament:
12x Heavy Turbolaser Batteries (Batteries consist of six individual cannons)
30x Medium Turbolaser Batteries (Batteries consist of six individual cannons)
26x Ion Cannons
12x Proton Torpedo Tubes
8x Tractor Beam Projectors
Complement:
24x TIE/D Defender Starfighters
12x TIE Demolishers boards.jedivsith.com/thread/3961/custom-tie-demolisher
Troops:
None at the moment.

The ship launches a picket patrol of 6 TIE defenders.

The Belphagor, a Victory III Star Destroyer remains in a geosynchronous orbit over Harnaidan.

A Large troop transport drops from hyperspace and enters orbit. Two of the Belphagor's Tie Picket ships perform fly-bys. The Ship checks out according to scans and codes.

The transport comes along side the Belphagor and docks with the star destroyer. The star destroyer's full complement of 2,000 death trooper commandoes disembarks over the space of an hour.

Once the troop transfer operation is complete, the transport undocks and leaves the system via Hyperspace.


Victory III Class Star Destroyer - “Belphagor” FLAGSHIP (Flag present), TF2/TF3LEAD (cpt. Gagarin) CIC:(Codename: "MAGNETAR")
Length:
900 meters (Star Frigate Class: 32 points)
Armament:
12x Heavy Turbolaser Batteries (Batteries consist of six individual cannons)
30x Medium Turbolaser Batteries (Batteries consist of six individual cannons)
26x Ion Cannons
12x Proton Torpedo Tubes
8x Tractor Beam Projectors
Complement:
24x TIE/D Defender Starfighters
12x TIE Demolishers boards.jedivsith.com/thread/3961/custom-tie-demolisher
Troops:
2,000 Death Troopers

The ship maintains a picket patrol of 6 TIE defenders in a perimeter pattern.

On the Belphagor:

The commscan officer diligently manned his post. On the multidepth holodisplay, a blip appeared, indicating am incoming hyperspace reading.
“Sir! Commscan is reading a ship incoming.” He intently read the analysis of the signature off the display. “We have an imperial ship with a military signature dropping from hyperspace.”
“I copy.” The officer of the watch looked on the holo-tactical display to see a ship drop from hyperspace over Muunilist. He turned back to the bridge viewports of the Victory III class star destroyer. Muunilist was large in the armored window showing their low planetary orbit. in the empty space above the planet, the officer couldn't distinguish the approaching ship from the regular space traffic over Muunilist. The incoming ship was too small and too far to be seen from the viewport with the naked eye.

“The ship is bearing 331 and requesting to dock. It's not one of the grand Moff's.”
“Designation?”
“Designated Flag Magnetar. It's ours. It is transmitting its codes now.”

Captain Hyze was on the bridge looking over personnel files that Admiral Malice had sent him. There were a number of records of genetic scientists that he was reviewing. When he heard 'magnetar' he looked up.

The commscan officer continued. “The Iron Maiden II, VT-49 Decimator. Her codes check out.” The yoeman on the bridge noted the contact in the ship's log.

Captain Hyze stood up. “Officer of the watch, I am assuming command.” He climbed from the computer terminal in the bridge well and onto the bridge command gantry. “I have command.” He asserted.
“You have command.” The officer saluted, now relieved of his post by his superior.
Captain Hyze saluted back. “Notify the Admiral. Send a squad to the hanger. Ready the hanger bay for a prisoner transfer. Notify the ship's brig.” Hyze turned to the communications officer, “Give me an encrypted channel to the Maiden.”

Havok stepped off the ramp of the lambda shuttle in hanger bay-2. He was immediately met by the deck officer who confirmed Havok's code cylinders. “Welcome aboard Agent Quasar.”
“Thank you.” Behind Havok, the shuttle took off again, and maneuvered out of the bay with the assistance of the Bay-2 tractor beam.

Havok looked across the dorsal hanger area through Bay-2's atmospheric shields to see into Bay-1. He could see the VT-49 Decimator beset by a scanner crew and surrounded by two squads of marines that looked like they were about to tear the Iron Maiden apart. “Problem in Hanger Bay One?”

“Yes sir, an asset retrieval team reported that a prisoner escaped and is hiding on that ship. Hanger Bay is on a code Yellow at the moment, so I am sorry to say, you will be detained here while crews complete their search.” The officer seemed anxious, hoping the big-wig imperial agent would not demand an exception of the lockdown protocol.
Havok closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment. “Very well. I'll keep out of the way.”
“Sir.” The deck officer touched his cap in a salute, relieved. He continued and returned the curtesy the intelligence agent just showed him, "If you need to be debriefed, there is a suitable control consul in the flight ready room."

Havok nodded, and the officer turned and hurried back to his post at the hanger control ticker.
Havok turned as his boots squeaked on the hanger deck. He regretted not having a cloak. It was cold in the hanger. He'd have to find something better to wear than the assault training jumpsuit he was currently wearing.

Havok entered the Flight Ready Room. There were two pilots sitting talking at a table, their helmets sitting on the table. They paused for a moment as Havok entered, momentarily turning and checking to see if he was an officer. They returned to their conversation once they determined Havok's uniform did not warrant a salute. 'Conversation' would be generous- the pilots were engaging in that time honored military tradition of complaining.
“...I was stationed on Bilbringi one minute, and then the next thing I know, Trident squadron and my pasty choobies were rigged for TIE Defenders and transferred...”
“Same thing with us. Shite! You gotta love when an admiral has an Alpha-Mike and shakes things up...”
“And patrols are one thing, but sortie missions are another. I have to do a hundred-fifty hours in the freakin' simulator to get re-certified for the Defender for phrik's sake.”
“I hear ya, T5. One time on Bastion...”
They continued shooting the breeze, but ready to respond to an order to scamble to their fighters at a moment's notice.

Havok spied the control console before he walked over and logged in using his code cylinder. He checked the status of the Belphagor. The hanger bay status changed from code yellow to green, with a pending request for a non-emergent medical team. He further checked in with the report filed by his agents he sent to Coruscant to find a pilot. The operation yielded several individuals in custody. Two possible pilots, a female adult, a female child, and a loud mouthed criminal. A quick scan of the dossiers showed that Lt. Faust was likely the best choice for a pilot to ferry VIPS around. The female child was oddly listed as missing.

…*

An itch on the edge of Havok's awareness urged him to look over to a corner of the room. Havok looked over to see nothing, and immediately looked back to the datascreen.

…*!
The itch returned, this time more urgent and insistent. It carried with it the stench of force manipulation that put Havok on his guard.

With practiced calmness despite his feeling of annoyance, Havok closed his eyes and opened his awareness to the expanse of the force around him. He immediately felt a presence in the vents above the Flight Ready Room. He felt a strong force... potentiality. The raw unfocused imprint of someone strong in the force, but unable to mold or manipulate it yet. Something whispered at the edge of his mind- the emotions of wishing to remain unseen, fear, but at the same time a more mature sense of self-satisfaction...

He opened his eyes and looked in the corner as directed by the mind trick. Under the same compulsion, the two pilots in the room were staring there as well.

Havok held his stare there, intent on luring out the presence, and make it seem as though the trick had worked. After several moments, he dropped the pretense and looked to the vent in the center of the room, which was now open- to see a child hanging from the grating.

The child dropped from the vent, to silently land on a table behind the two pilots.
 The child was small and wore short pants and a smock top. They looked durable and well worn. At her side hung a matching satchel.

“I see you.” Havok's voice startled the child who then froze, locking eyes with Havok. “You must be the one they are looking for.” Havok, grinning broadly, couldn't contain his amusement. The girl-child that his team had incidentally captured on Coruscant, was force sensitive! How delightful!

That moment, the door to the ready room slid open as a pilot to walked in to view the scene. He offered a quizzical “Huh?” that shattered the moment.
The other two pilots, free of the mind trick, now looked back to see the child exclaiming, “Hey-!”

With unnatural blistering speed, the child sprang off the table and sprinted for the door.

The door slid open as the girl reached it. She sprinted out of the ready room onto the expansive polished black deck of Hanger-bay two.
She barely cleared the door when the star destroyer's collision alarm began blaring and the whole ship lurched. The girl lost her footing and tripped, landing hard on her stomach, which knocked the wind out of her.
Through the loud, repetitive alarm, the ship continued to shudder and shake, as she tried to stand up. The ship's inertial dampeners were straining to deal with the sudden accelerations.
Regaining her feet, she took four steps before another ship-shatteringly strong jolt sent her sprawling.

While attempting to recover, she saw the deck officer hanging on to his terminal, clipping his belt to an anchor and reaching for an oxygen mask-... and then the hanger lights started flickering and went dark.

She blinked and realized she could still see and she turned her head to see the source of the light. For the moment, the only light in the cargo bay came from the gentle white blue-ish glow of the edges of the atmospheric particle fields and their emitters. She blinked. It was the only thing keeping in the atmosphere of the hanger bay contained within the confines of the ship. She blinked again. The glow of the shields began to falter... even as the emergency cargo bay lighting began to flicker to life.

There was another lurch and the room exploded as the air shields failed. The pressure of air in the bay was suddenly released into the vacuum of space, and with it, everything that wasn't secured to the deck. Cargo containers, clothing, droids, people... She felt herself sliding across the polished deck pushed by the roar of air seeking to escape into the void.

The world was in slow motion; the next a moment it felt like someone turned her ears off. She turned back to see the deck officer gripping his oxygen mask and squeezing his eyes closed. His officer's cap was gone and his clothes were flapping as his belt clip held him at his station. She also saw the way the officer was flailing at the control panel.
Time seemed to slow down even further as she seized upon the hopeful thought that he might be able to activate a backup shield, or auxiliary power, but the thought was simultaneously dashed by his inept flailing arms and closed eyes.

The girl turned her eyes to see the back of the hanger bay rushing away from her. With a slight turn of her head she could see the nearing entrance of the hanger bay, and space and Muunilinst...
The whole experience had a surreal dreamlike quality as if this couldn't be happening to her, and she was witnessing herself getting spaced though someone else's eyes.

She closed her eyes, and tried to take a final breath, even as she felt the air being torn from her lungs.
...
At that exact moment, she felt a hand grab her arm like a vice, pulling her back from the brink.

The demonstration confirmed her force sensitivity. Her sheer untrained ability was a marvel to behold. Darth Havok's mind was made up.

“Your ability to see things others cannot is special. It makes you special.” Havok leaned forward. “Your ability means you have a gift. A power beyond sight alone.” Havok continued, his eyes twinkling. “A power that gives you the ability to run faster, jump higher, and sense things that others cannot sense... just like me.” Havok held open his arms and shrugged.

She gave him a sideways glance as though not sure what to make of him. She had never told anyone about her abilities.

“I would like to teach you to embrace that power and develop your abilities.” He held out his hand.

She looked down at his hand in alarm, suddenly tense.

Havok froze and slowly withdrew his hand, holding it open, showing it was empty. “If you want to learn, that is.” He saw the suspicion in her eyes and continued. “Oh, you needn't worry... Tyna.” Havok casually used the name that had been part of the report. “You're not going back to a cell. Regardless of what YOU choose to do.” Havok leaned back and emphasized the fact that her choice would determine what would happen. “You'd just escape again.” He laughed. “It's understandable. I don't like being locked up either.” He put his hand up to his mouth and whispered as though he was telling her a secret. “Occasionally I need to escape as well.”

Tyna giggled, once again at ease.

“Obviously you can't be running around this ship indefinitely; You'll have to go somewhere. So here are your choices at the moment.” Havok rolled his head side to side stretching his neck. “You can accept my offer to become my apprentice and learn to wield the force, or I will need to take you to imperial social services; and because there is no record of your parents, basically they will turn you over to an imperial orphanage.”

Tyna chewed on her cheek while considering the offer.

“I was raised in an orphanage long ago on Onderon. I didn't like it.” He regarded her. “I would not recommend it. You probably wouldn't like it either.” Though admittedly the imperial orphanage would likely be a paradise in comparison to what he endured. That had been ages ago, and yet just mentioning orphanages in general awakened a great well of rage within him. He didn't let his emotion leak into his voice though. “You'd be raised by people that maybe cared about you... You'd probably be safe, probably get enough food to eat, but you will answer to other people. They will tell you what to do for the rest of your life.” Havok leaned back and crossed his arms. “Your power, if developed will grant you abilities and freedom beyond your imagination.” Havok spoke with a quiet intensity. “This power, the Force, is the only way for you to reach your true potential. You will never be a victim again.” Havok was as serious as could be, before he lightened up, “It's how I became so powerful. Powerful enough to own and control this entire ship.” He made an exaggerated motioned to whole the cargo room.

“No it's not.” Tyna spoke incredulously. “No you're not!” She didn't believe this was his ship.

“I am too!” Havok pretended to be hurt. “I could walk you right up to the bridge and order this ship to go anywhere.” He raised an eyebrow as if daring her to call him a liar.

“You're lying.” She accused him. “Or kidding.”

“Not at all! Tell you what-” Havok stood up. “We'll march right up to the bridge of this ship and I'll order an admiral to dance for us.” Havok held out his hand to Tyna. “If he dances for us then you'll accept my deal. If he doesn't, then obviously bad things are probably going to happen to me, and like I said before, you'll end up going to an orphanage.”

Tyna hesitated before she took his hand. Either this guy was crazy, or this was going to be one of the greatest things she had seen in her entire life so far...  She couldn't wait to find out which...

As the dread lord of the sith walked, his new apprentice sped up the hallway, spinning and dancing and laughing. She was giddy from having gone from the rotting wastes of the underworld of Corescant, to an imperial cell, to then escape and meet this dark man so full of power. He had actually ordered an Admiral to dance a jig... and the admiral did it! He actually did it!

The blind seer watched the girl skip down the hall without a care in the world. He could see her power, and her future all bound up into a little ball of potential, so bright inside her core. He saw the potential of a great sith. He saw the loyalty and strength that would allow her to rise and crush his enemies... and finally, he saw his own doom. The potential that she could one day turn on him and strike him down...
He felt the shiver in his bones.
They say keep your friends close and enemies closer- Havok had once known, back in the military on Onderon, a man that kept a slug in his pocket. He carried it everywhere he went. On the bullet the man had carved his name, and when asked why he carried it, the man would pull out the slug and share his philosophy: "You know they always say that somewhere, there is a slug out there with your name on it..." he'd hold up the bullet and show the listener his name carved into the metal jacket of the round. "Well, I figure that if I owned that bullet, and kept it in my pocket, there's no way that anyone can hit me." A simple minded philosophy. Incidentally the man was eventually killed by a blaster shot, not a slug.

Havok wondered how much of his own fate he could alter by keeping this girl, this potential oracle, this future assassin, in his pocket. And yet his vanity demanded that he still train her to his utmost. Only his finest art, his greatest creation, his most powerful triumph would ever be capable of destroying the Seer of the Eye that could out-see all things and escape all plots.  He intended to mold this girl into a beautiful self-portrait. He would push himself to push her capabilities, force her to drink from the jets of his astronomical knowledge, and create the thing that he feared most- a prophetess capable of defeating him. Something far more powerful than the crude instrument that was his former apprentice, Excrussis.

"Tyna." He called out her name, but saw her true name swirling in in shimmering letters in the aura over her head. "Adrasteia" or Nemisis, the name of an old goddess of divine retribution or inescapable or inevitable fate. Not that Havok believed in gods that he could not see. Her name truly was an omen. He would keep it hidden, for now.
"Yes...?" The girl whirled on him suddenly, realizing that she didn't know the man's name. She looked uncertain, wary about how little she knew about him. "Mister, I don't even know your name."
Havok chuckled. "Do you trust me?" You probably shouldn't, Havok thought to himself.
"Yes." The girl squinted wondering why that question was relevant, when she only asked him his name.

It had been quite rude of himself to not introduce himself sooner. He beckoned to her to come join him by the turbolifts. "Ah Tyna, I have many names. Here, in this place, I must go by Agent Quasar." He motioned to the ship around him, and the occasional crew that marched past.
He lowered his voice and bent down to her level. "I am hiding in plain sight, but when I am not hiding, I usually go by Havok. In fact, I prefer that name." But he wiggled his finger at her. "You must not use that name in front of other people. It will mean nothing to them, or it will expose you, and me to grave consequences." Darth Havok, a Sith Lord and dark seer was hiding in the intelligence services of the First Order.  If his true nature were known, the Imperial Knights, or the Knights of Ren would likely try to root him out and extinguish his taint from the Empire.  The secrecy of Imperial Intelligence granted him the latitude to avoid answering questions about his past, and to wield influence through intermediaries and proxies.  Ironically, he was doing this for the preservation of the Empire and imposition of order through out the galaxy.  A sith lord or not, the Dread Seer was a creature of order- not chaos.  He enjoyed having the trams run on time.  He would explain these things in time to his young apprentice, but not today. He did not want to overload her little brain on the first day. 

"But let me tell you a real secret. Something, no one knows about me anymore. Let me tell you the name that I had at the orphanage."  Havok motioned her closer, closer, until he could whisper it in her ear. "My name is Anaximander. They gave me the last name 'Fremden,' because they didn't know my surname. It means 'stranger' or 'foreigner.'
"That's not nice."
"That's life!" The turbolift doors opened, ready to take them away from the upper bridge-deck of the ship, and down into the bowels of the star destroyer. "Life has been unkind to both of us." He stepped onto the lift, and she followed. "But I promise you, Tyna, if you follow me, learn all that I have to teach you, and become everything I know that you can become, I will give you everything I possess. Everything!"
The girl's eyes lit up in unvarnished excitement and childish greed at the literal meaning of his words. 
The turbolift closed behind them.