"What did you say!!" Admiral Belthos yelled at the communications officer. The Admiral's thin body shook with emotion as he awaited the officer's response."

The man he was yelling at quivered. "I'm sorry admiral but your brother, Squadron Commander Belthos, has passed away."

Admiral Belthos sat down in his chair. One of the attendants approached him. "Admiral," she said softly "do you need anything?"

The Admiral sat there for a second before nodding. "Leave me. All of you, leave me." The attendant nodded and retreated. She walked off the bridge, along with several bridge officers and guards.

Admiral Belthos was grand name before the war, the genius war tactician of the Empire. The Empire had fallen, but his ambitions had not. After the United Federation's fleets took the capital, and killed the Emperor, the war had been declared over. Belthos was not content with such an ending and instead gathered all of the Empire's scattered fleets. He disappeared from known space and the Federation had been hunting him ever since.

He stared off into space, the twinkling stars displayed on the viewport of the Armoured Battleship The Kraken. Admiral Belthos had no idea what to do. His brother had been very close to him, even if he had been a little hot-headed.

His brother had been on a robbery mission. He was supposed to rob cargo vessels as they traveled through the Veltrus system. His brother's squadron of three Raven-Class Fighters should have been enough to handle such a task and the freight hauler would have docked with the cargo ships to transfer the cargo. It had been a necessary job since they were cut off from supplies. The only way to refuel and repair was to plunder cargo like pirates of old, along with several systems that were still loyal to the empire. Such a job was easy, especially since they would have been inside the warp boundary, safe from Navy pursuit. Their fighters were agile and fast, able to escape far before the Navy would reach them. So why had his brother been killed?

The question haunted Admiral Belthos as he remembered his brother's passion for flying and exploring space. Tears trickled down Belthos' face as he recalled who his brother had been. After a few minutes, he recollected himself. It was not appropriate for the last Admiral of the Imperial Armada to be crying, even if his brother had passed away.

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He called his attendants back in after recovering his composure. His voice sounded out, disturbingly calm. "Communications officer. Please tell me of the exact manner in which my brother died." His voice caught slightly on the word brother but his face remained deathly still.

The officer was nervous, but still relayed the information. "I received a report from the freight hauler that was assigned to Raven Squadron 6. It was posing as another merchant, which allowed it to observe the following report. They were attacking a cargo hauler named Lone Wolf with little success. The cargo hauler was alone and without escort which was why it was chosen."

The cargo hauler was being piloted by someone very experienced and was able to avoid being hit by plasma fire. They called on the Navy and they sent a Freedom-class Destroyer Hammerhead."

Admiral Belthos slammed his fist into the arm of his chair. That's what went wrong. The Freedom-class were the newest ships of the Federation. They were updated with more powerful tachyon drives, allowing them to jump further into the system than other ship. Their spies hadn't warned them of a Freedom-Class Destroyer, causing them to be caught off guard.

The communication officer had paused after the Admiral let out his anger. He continued on though once the Admiral gestured at him. "The destroyer warped in less than five miles from the three fighters and launched EMP missiles. The three fighters were disabled and then brought onboard the vessel."

Admiral Belthos stood up. "If he is captured, there is still hope. The Federation doesn't use the death penalty so we should be able to rescue him."

The communication officer shook his head. "One of our spies is located on the planet where they were dropping off the prisons. The fighter that your brother was piloting had an overload when the EMP hit. It opened the fighter's cockpit, causing an explosive decompression event. The EMP shut down the ship's oxygen reclaimer and your brother's suit only had ten minutes of air. The Navy brought the fighters on-board twenty minutes after the EMP. By this time, your brother had died of asphyxiation."

The Admiral let out a ragged breath. Dying in space because of no oxygen was every spacer's nightmare. Imagining his brother ending up like that tore his heart to shreds. His tactical officer leaned over. "Sir, should we try to destroy the Hammerhead?

Admiral Belthos shook his head. "No. By doing that we risk leading the Federation back to us. We cannot let them find the shadow planets. We cannot risk it." His hands were balled into fists, small droplets of blood dripping to the floor as his nails cut into his palm. "Officer, you said that the cargo hauler was called Lone Wolf?

The communications officer nodded. "Yes Sir."

Admiral Belthos nodded. "Good. See if our spies can find this Lone Wolf and place a tracker on the ship when you do. Order a destroyer captain to attack the ship when it is in an unnoticeable location. Attacking a Federation Destroyer would attract too much attention, but wiping out a cargo hauler shouldn't raise too many eyebrows."