Faction Graveyard of Dragons (THC)

[Tydeus of Tion]

GRAVEYARD OF DRAGONS​

Amid the nebula of the Transitory Mists, in the Hapes Nebula, a TIE fighter and the shuttle it escorted wove in evasive patterns trying to dodge incoming fire from an entire squadron of Mandalorian starfighters. Bolts of acidic green churned through star dust, cutting inches away from the shuttle.

The shuttle carried important members of the Hapan rebel forces, on a mission to return information to Queen Mother Cortana.They'd been intercepted.

The desperate efforts of the shuttle's escort fighter could not stave off the swarm of Mandalorian vessels, which hemmed them in from all sides.

Desperate, with no further options, the shuttle and its escort attempted a micro jump to escape their pursuers….

And emerged into a place of memory and dreams - an asteroid belt around a bizarre central stellar object which almost resembled a pulsar but far smaller. And in the inner rim of the belt lay dozens upon dozens of floating objects, dead in space.

Star Dragons.

Dead Star Dragons.

A graveyard of them.

All sensor systems aboard the shuttle and its escort fighter appear non-functional. The objectives are simple:

Investigate the graveyard.

Find a way home.

Those with Force sensitivity feel a sensation at the back of their minds. Like a song they'd long forgotten. It calls them toward a shape in the debris. A floating dragon that is not quite yet dead. She calls to them.

Will you answer?

***

Tydeus adjusted his helmet inside the cockpit of his TIE fighter. He pounded the dash.

It hadn’t been enough. All his training and he still had not been able to overcome mere Mandalorian starfighters. What would happen when next he faced Carnifex?

Scowling, the Tionese boy opened a transmission to the shuttle.

“This is Tydeus, does anyone read me?”

He glanced at the sensors. Dead. Hopefully the comms were not as well.

And he had this feeling in the back of his mind. Like a song he’d forgotten. What was that?

AI disclaimer: no LLM was used in the creation of this post.​

 

[Sariel Cyrane]

Objective: Investigate, Get Home, Deliver Intel
Location: Dragon Graveyard, Transitory Mists
Oufit: Naval Uniform
Tags: OPEN | Tydeus of Tion

Sariel Cyrane stood near the forward section of the shuttle, one gloved hand resting lightly against a support brace as the vessel settled into an uneasy silence. The violent evasive maneuvers and desperate micro-jump had finally ended, replaced by a stillness that somehow felt even more unsettling.

Around the compartment, passengers and crew were beginning to collect themselves. Emergency lighting bathed the interior in muted amber as hushed voices rose from every corner of the transport. Behind Sariel, the two Gilded Talon Marines assigned to her detail had already slipped naturally into their duties.

Varek Cyrane rose first, the veteran Marine adjusting the sling of his Cyrane-7 disruptor carbine before slowly surveying the compartment. His movements were deliberate rather than alarmed, watching for damage, injured passengers, or any immediate threat.

Alena Tareth was already checking the seals of her armor and ensuring her equipment had survived the rough transit. Once satisfied, she pulled her helmet beneath one arm instead of donning it, her sharp blue eyes wandering toward the forward viewport.

Neither Marine spoke unnecessarily. Their calm professionalism was reassuring in a situation none of them understood. Sariel took a slow breath before looking toward the cockpit. The mission had been straightforward only moments ago. Deliver the intelligence gathered during their assignment safely into the hands of Queen Mother Cortana. Now...

She wasn't entirely certain where they were. A burst of static echoed through the shuttle. "This is Tydeus, does anyone read me?" Sariel immediately keyed her comm unit. "This is Commander Sariel Cyrane of House Cyrane." Her voice remained measured despite the uncertainty surrounding them. "My escort and I are safe aboard the shuttle. We read you clearly."

She released the transmitter, leaving the channel open for the shuttle's crew and the other passengers to answer in turn. Only then did she finally look beyond the transparisteel. The words failed her. Star Dragons. Countless immense bodies drifted silently among broken asteroids, each one frozen where it had fallen. Some bore ancient wounds across their scales, others appeared almost peaceful, as though merely sleeping beneath the pale light of the strange stellar object at the center of the graveyard.

Even from this distance they radiated impossible grandeur. Alena slowly stepped alongside the viewport. ”...I've never imagined creatures could grow that large."

Varek's expression remained unreadable. "If they're all dead..." He left the thought unfinished.

Sariel found herself unable to look away. Something about the scene tugged unexpectedly at her thoughts. Not fear. Not curiosity. Recognition. Like hearing the first notes of a lullaby she should not have remembered. She frowned.

"...Do either of you feel that?" Alena muttered in a low whisper.

Varek glanced toward her. "Feel what, Alena?"

Alena lingered in silence for another heartbeat before answering quietly.

"...I'm not sure." Her eyes remained fixed on one distant shape among the floating dragons. "...But I don't think we're alone here."

Sariel folded her hands neatly behind her back, allowing the moment to settle while others aboard the shuttle gathered their bearings and began assessing the situation for themselves. Whatever strange place the micro-jump had delivered them to...

...it was already inviting them deeper.

 

[Soraya Caldris]

SORAYA CALDRIS

GRAVEYARD OF DRAGONS

THE TRANSITORY MYSTS

AFTER

♫ PADMÉ'S RUMINATIONS — JOHN WILLIAMS

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They had no business being in a shuttle anywhere in the Cluster, as far as Soraya was concerned. The Mandalorians were too well-informed, too eager for bloodshed, to risk it. And yet here they were, one escort badly damaged, a shuttle with limited offensive capability and a defensive capability that was hardly any better.

Amateur hour.

Soraya unclipped her crash webbing and looked around her immediate area. People in varying states of disarray, but there didn't appear to be any injuries where she was. She stood and began picking things up that had come loose during evasive maneuvers and the jolts and jostles that came with being shot at. She tucked tools back into their compartments, fastened doors back in place, and quietly made her way from the passenger compartment through to the cockpit.

She crouched low to look out the viewport. What was this place? Where were they? What fresh hell awaited them now?

Soraya pointed over the pilot's shoulder. "We need to get closer," she said, a certainty in her voice for which Soraya could not identify the source. "If we go low-power somewhere deeper, tucked up against one of those shapes, we can avoid sensor sweeps while we perform repairs." Her eyes narrowed, squinting out into space. "Do you feel that? There's something -- something..."

Her voice trailed off and she canted her head to one side, listening to something that wasn't there, a silent song she recognized but didn't quite remember.

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WITH

Tydeus of Tion • Sariel Cyrane