Chewie's Stargrave

The Argent Reach drifted lifeless in the graveyard of the Shattered Halo, its secrets stripped bare and its captain silenced. From its fractured logs and hidden ledgers, the truth had begun to emerge—fragmented, obscured, but undeniable. The trail led inward, into Imperial space, toward systems watched and recorded by machines that forgot nothing and forgave even less. If the Shadowspire entered openly, it would be marked, tracked, and hunted within hours. So the decision was made. They would not enter as intruders. They would enter as ghosts. The Outer Listening Post hung in the void like a patient sentinel—an unremarkable structure of grey plating and antenna spires, its cogitators endlessly cataloguing the movement of ships along the fringe. It was not heavily armed. It did not need to be. Its weapon was knowledge. And that made it dangerous. “We get in, we alter the logs, we leave,” Jalen Varr said as the boarding craft cut its engines and drifted toward the station’s maintenan...