Tyrant Queen of Darkness

Reforged In Shadow

Beneath the distant hum of mining drills and the slow churn of slag haulers, the Peragus system exhaled heat and static, each venting plume painting red scars across the dark. Somewhere below, the planet burned itself hollow. Somewhere above, men hauled what was left of it toward profit and promise.
The convoy drifted free of orbit on slow ion thrusters — three bulk freighters, their holds sealed and cold, wrapped in the dull silver skin of corporate pragmatism. Beside them, Mandalorian escorts cut through the haze like blades, gold and gunmetal glinting under fractured light. Their formation was tight, precise, but relaxed. It was a simple run. Unremarkable. The kind that never reached the holofeeds.
And yet, something moved in the silence.
At first it came as interference — static threads whispering through comms, a sensor ghost at the convoy's edge, dismissed as a dust echo or flare. Then came the dim flicker of a light against the starline. One. Then another. Then dozens. Shapes unfolded from shadow, hulls wreathed in heat haze and black alloy, transponders blank.
The Queen's Guard had arrived.
No call to surrender. No warning. Just the bloom of light as magnetic torches struck home — the first sparks of the ambush lighting up the void. Freighters lurched under the assault, shields flaring blue, comm channels erupting in shouts as alarms screamed across the decks.
The lead Mandalorian corvette veered to intercept, plasma trails cutting through darkness, but the Guard's ships were already among them — silent, surgical, inevitable. Boarding pods struck like meteors. Locking clamps rang through hulls.
In the heart of the chaos, the command signal pulsed once across the Guard's encrypted channel.
The hunt has begun.
Above the burning world, the Daragon Trail ignited — a storm of fire, shadow, and beskar. And within it, destiny moved quietly between the wrecks, waiting to see who would seize the cargo… and who would be claimed by the dark.








Last edited: