First Reply Echoes in the Void

[Domaric Mordane]

Allegiant General Domaric Mordane's boots echoed down the cavernous corridor of the INV Tiberius, the after‑image of the Imperius lingering like a ghost in his memory. He ran a gloved hand over the cold bulkhead plating, feeling every vibration, every hum—or the lack of it. Systems flickered around him in dim red: life support dipping in Sector 4, grav‑generators only marginally online, the nav computer dark.

Month one… two… three…

His jaw clenched. He had lost count long ago, but in the dead stillness of deep space, every rotation of the hull felt like another heartbeat ticking away.

He passed the bridge, its viewport cracked and repaired with overlapping duracrete patches. The tactical display sat blank—no star charts, no hyperspace lanes, not even local traffic. The hyperdrive was offline, the power couplings blown in the cascade when the hyperlane collapsed. Everywhere across the galaxy, the same thing was happening—but here, beneath the Tiberius' steel skin, every star system outside was simply… gone.

Month four… five…

He swept into the engineering deck. The Chief Engineer stood before a bank of sparking conduits, sweat darkening the back of his uniform. "Status?" Mordane's voice was low.

"Forty‑five percent operational, Allegiant General," the Engineer replied without turning. "Fusions are holding at sixty percent output, but the grav‑cores are… unstable. If we push them harder, the whole secondary hull might shear off."

Mordane nodded once. "Keep them limping. Divert all non‑essential power to life support and comms. We need to know where we are."

He moved on to the medical bay. A Lieutenant, a Nurse by the looks of her, rubbed her temples beneath her mask. "Oxygen reserves are at thirty percent, sir," she said. "M– m–night shifts are down to two hours. Morale is… slipping."

He paused, letting the weight of it settle. "Prepare rationing protocols and issue motivational bulletins. Remind them who we are—and why we survive."

Month six…

At the communications array, a Lieutenant twisted a smashed comm‑array module in his hands. "No signals, sir. No Alliance chatter, no Imperial beacons—nothing but static and strange subspace echoes."

Mordane's gaze darkened. "Keep trying. Cycle the anisotropic filters. If there's a voice out there, we'll find it."

He pressed on to the cargo holds, where half the crates of munitions lay untouched, the other half scavenged for spares and emergency repairs. The ship groaned under its own weight, twisting in the silent void.

Month seven…

Finally, he stood before the crew muster station. A single holo‑projector flickered to life. Three dozen faces stared back—exhausted, gaunt, resolute. Mordane's jaw tightened. "Every one of you," he said, voice carried through the small chamber, "has endured worse and pressed on. We are the hand that still moves when the puppeteer is gone. We will find our way back to the Empire—or we will carve our own path through this darkness. Understood?"

Their affirmative chorus was faint, but it was there.

He powered down the projector, pausing in the empty hallway as the lights dimmed further. The Tiberius drifted in the black, systems limping, crew frayed, location unknown. Yet Mordane felt the familiar lash of purpose ignite in his chest.

Month eight…

He turned on his heel and headed back toward the bridge. There was work to be done—and failure was not an option.

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

W A R M A S T E R
LORD INDOMITUS
Through war, we bring order.
Through strength, we bring unity.

The Iron March
Purpose. Discipline. Order.

Domaric Mordane

​

Empty Space | Imperator Rex

Since the downfall of Empires and the events of the Sundering Dawn, Imperius had instructed his comms officers and navigation specialists to keep an eye and ear open for distress signals. Units of the Dark Empire, of Zakuul and of anyone really, were still lost and had not been seen for many weeks. It was chaos. Even though through some sheer willpower and determination some managed to return to what was now 'real' space - for other that was not enough. Lost in hyperspace, crushed by a star or simply somewhere in the void with no connection to anyone or anything.

Only when frequenting between Zakuul, former Dark Empire space and that of the Empire of the Lost, one of Imperius' specialists received what was a completely scrambled and unreadable transmission. It took several days to even find the transmission again before they tried to analyze what it could be. The effort was only made because it was seemingly of imperial origin.

While the message was not decipherable for anyone, the simple fact that it was repeated on and on indicated either some kind of trap or a distress signal. They were prepared for both. Telemetry calculations and tracking attempts plus some luck lead to a rough area of origin, somewhere lost between hyperlanes and planets. The Imperator Rex departed, using short jumps to move safely and in between deployed a maximum array of long range scans and recon probes to narrow down the search area.

Eventually it appeared from hyperspace, proximity alerts screaming as a ship was finally found. A ship that after initial scans was running on minimal energy but had an imperial signature: the Tiberius. Slowly the star destroyer approached the larger, dormant ship. Its shields and weapons were up but not targeting solutions were inserted, this was still appearing to be a rescue mission.

"INV Tiberius, do you read me? This is the Imperator Rex." The call went on repeat until Imperius himself spoke. "Mordane, are you there? This is Imperius."

 

[Domaric Mordane]

Mordane's boots struck sparks against the plating as he settled into the com-station, the familiar hum of failing circuits a grim lullaby. He stared at the flickering readouts, every pixel a reminder of just how far they'd fallen. He drew in a breath, tasting recycled air thick with fear and resolve. Eight months, he thought. Eight months drifting in the void, every system failing in turn, every light a promise broken. His gloved fingers hovered over the controls—but he hesitated. Strategy wasn't just orders and calculations; it was knowing when to pause, when to listen to the silence and learn from it.

"Rex, this is Allegiant General Mordane. I read you faintly."

The words felt heavier than any volley of turbolasers he'd ever ordered. His voice was steady—cold, even—but beneath the calm lay something new: the weight of survival pressed against his ribs like a vice.

He tapped a few commands, pulling up a three-dimensional overlay of the ship's power grid. Lines of pale blue and red traced the veins of the Tiberius, some pulsing with life, others extinguished entirely. "I've rerouted all non-essential reactors to life-support and communications. Fusions hold at sixty percent, grav-cores at forty. Pushing them harder risks secondary-hull failure." He paused again, letting the engineer's earlier words echo in his mind. In calmer times he might have repeated them back—"Your concerns noted, you will adapt". But now…

My concerns he thought, and everyone's concerns down these corridors.

For the first time, he felt less like the cold tactician who'd crushed rebellions across a dozen systems, and more like a man on the edge of a blade, every decision a matter of life and death.

"Set your approach vector to bearing 132.4. Power down weapons and shields to minimal. I'll guide you through the fracture zones—no room for mistakes."

He leaned back, eyes drifting to the viewport. Beyond the duracrete patches and cracked reliquary of imperial might lay the unknown: a fragment of hyperspace where stars died and ships vanished.

Month eight, he reminded himself. We've survived seven already.

A flicker on the console drew his attention: a life-sign ping from deep in the med-bay. A single bio-trace—just one—but proof they weren't alone in this drift.

He tapped a command that would beam the ration estimates to the Rex.

"I'll hold this channel open. We'll see you soon—or we'll carve a path through the darkness ourselves."

He ended the transmission and remained there a moment longer, hand resting on the console as if laying a hand on the heart of the ship. In that silence, determination coiled in his chest.

Tactics, he thought, are about adapting to the battlefield. And this… this void is ours to master.

He rose, shoulders squared, and turned toward the bridge. Failure was not yet an option—not while a single spark of imperial will still burned aboard the Tiberius.

Imperius Indomitus​

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

W A R M A S T E R
LORD INDOMITUS
Through war, we bring order.
Through strength, we bring unity.

The Iron March
Purpose. Discipline. Order.

Domaric Mordane

​

Empty Space | Imperator Rex

Imperius nodded at the Captain, otherwise remaining unmoved.

"Readying for guidance, Allegiant-General." The ship started to power down its external arrays, making it a sitting duck but the nod of the Warmaster issued a command of trust towards the lost imperial vessel and its speaker. He apparently knew more about the area than the sensors and scanners could tell, therefore they readied for his directions while setting course.

"On course 132.4, captain." Came from the rudder, the captain made no effort to repeat it and instead put the whole bridge crew on speaker so this was as transparent as possible. Now they awaited further instructions.

One thing that did not go through speaker and neither through the captain, was the order issued by Imperius into his internal comms. "Battle stations, prepare for boarding and for rescue operation in void."

The large warship slowly made its way towards the massive Tiberius. On board the tension was almost so thick that you could cut it. Nobody wanted to join the beached imperial warship and remain here for who knows how long, nobody was comfortable with neither weapons nor shields. They were soldiers and going to war was more natural to them than not.

Meanwhile the security crews and Stormtroopers of the 181st Legion prepared the ship for both actions. In one of the hangars various support craft were prepared to help another ship, including fuel pipes and rescue craft. While everywhere else the ship shut down, its vital parts being guarded and the garrison forces ready to repel incoming attackers.

 

[Domaric Mordane]

Aboard the dimly lit bridge of the Tiberius, Allegiant General Domaric Mordane stood motionless, eyes fixed on the approaching silhouette of the Imperator Rex. The once-pristine command center now bore the scars of their prolonged isolation—cracked viewports, flickering consoles, and the ever-present hum of systems on the brink.

He activated the open comm channel, his voice steady, though tinged with the weight of their ordeal.

"Imperator Rex, your approach is acknowledged. Maintain current trajectory and velocity. The surrounding spatial anomalies are unpredictable; any deviation could prove catastrophic."

He paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to settle.

"Be advised: the Tiberius remains structurally compromised. Our grav-generators are unstable, and life-support is operating at minimal capacity. Proceed with caution."

Mordane's gaze shifted to the crew around him—faces drawn, eyes hollow, yet still burning with a flicker of hope. Their resilience had been tested beyond measure, and now, salvation loomed just beyond the void.

"Prepare for docking procedures. Coordinate with our remaining systems to establish a secure connection. Time is of the essence."

He closed the channel, turning to his officers.

"Signal the crew: assistance is imminent. Stand by for incoming support and potential evacuation protocols."

As the Imperator Rex drew nearer, Mordane allowed himself a moment of reflection. The cold strategist within him recognized the necessity of survival, but the man—tempered by months of isolation and hardship—felt the stirrings of something more profound. In the face of oblivion, they had endured.

He straightened his posture, the weight of command settling once more on his shoulders. The battle was far from over, but for the first time in months, the path forward was illuminated.

"We are not lost," he murmured to himself. "Not yet."

Imperius Indomitus

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

W A R M A S T E R
LORD INDOMITUS
Through war, we bring order.
Through strength, we bring unity.

The Iron March
Purpose. Discipline. Order.

Domaric Mordane

​

Empty Space | Imperator Rex

"On course, Allegiant-General." The captain continued steadily. Overseeing several stations at once while making sure the ship goes exactly where and how she wants it to go. The readings of their sensors were abysmally unrealiable and the vector chosen by their target was certainly helping.

"Ready boarding tubes, we need to have a flexible connection in these conditions." Imperius stated as he listened to the instructions and observed the readings. Did they stay in empty space for months without connection? The last time he saw Mordane in person was on Nirauan, before the fall of the Dark Empire. Much had changed, much was changing. Independent of that - if he kept the ship and crew together, that was an impressive feat.

The Imperator Rex slowly crept up towards the other speartip shaped vessel. It was smaller, but it also was brighter, its lights were vibrant with life and energy, while the Tiberius' were dim or off completely. Aboard the Rex, Stomtroopers of the 181st and crew members of the ship prepared. Both to repel and engage in boarding and rescue. Medical teams stood ready, gunships were ready to lift off. But more importantly, two massive tubes were readied in the central hangar, which would connected the normal docking bays with each other without having a rigid construction, allowing for some flexibility.

Even bringing the ship to a hold was a challenge, but the captain managed it very aptly. Imperius was glad to have her command his flagship, of coruse he had chosen her, but it was a working relationship that actually worked smoothly and efficiently.

"Ready for connections, sent out the guidance craft. Tiberius, ready your starboard docking ports four and six, we will connect. One for personnel transfer, one for cargo. What is your evaluation on the ship, is it salvageable or will you abandon it?" She asked with her rasp but calm voice.