Expansion Starborn Expansion; the Archeon Gambit

[Lyanna Starborn]

Phase One: Securing a Foothold​

Lyanna Starborn stood at the heart of the Migrant Fleet’s command deck, her gaze fixed on the swirling starfield beyond the viewport. The Archeon Sector lay ahead—an untamed frontier of warlords, feuding aristocrats, and corporate militarists. A prize waiting to be claimed. She exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of what was to come. This would be the Starborn Sect’s first true test of expansion. It would not be won through philosophy or the Force, but through strategy, firepower, and precision.

The bridge of the SS Machiavellian, her flagship, hummed with controlled energy. Officers moved with purpose, relaying reports from reconnaissance teams already embedded in the sector. Lyanna turned her attention to the primary holotable, where tactical overlays displayed key locations: the core strongholds of House Vallian, the Void Pact’s scattered raiding fleets, and the industrial might of the Archeon Concord.

“Report,” she commanded, her voice even.

Sariah Voss, standing at her side, tapped the console. “House Vallian’s situation is worse than anticipated. Their fleet is outdated, their ground forces are spread thin, and their leadership is fractured. They’re considering an alliance but are wary of our true intentions.”

Lyanna tilted her head slightly. “Their weakness makes them useful. If we offer support, they’ll become reliant on us. But if they suspect our endgame too soon, they’ll resist.”

Tali’ra Korr, her apprentice, crossed her arms. “Then we string them along. Feed them just enough aid to keep them desperate. Once they’re dependent, we break them.”

Lyanna considered it. “An option. But not our only one.”

The holotable shifted to display the Void Pact’s activity. Red markers pulsed across critical hyperspace lanes—raiding zones where the Migrant Fleet’s early supply runs had already come under attack.

“The warlords are getting bolder,” one of the fleet admirals noted. “If we don’t address them soon, they’ll disrupt the entire campaign before it begins.”

Lyanna narrowed her eyes. The Void Pact’s leaders were little more than scavengers, clinging to the last embers of the Empire’s collapse. Their disorder made them dangerous but exploitable.

“And the Archeon Concord?” she asked.

The display shifted again. Unlike the others, the Concord did not rule through fleets or noble claims. Their strength was in infrastructure—factories, shipyards, and the private military forces that guarded them.

“They aren’t taking us seriously,” Sariah observed. “Yet. But they’re increasing production. Preparing for something. If they realize we’re the true threat, they’ll move to crush us before we’re established.”

Lyanna tapped her fingers against the edge of the table. Three factions, three obstacles, and countless ways to proceed. The first steps of war were always the most important.

“We begin with Vallian,” she decided. “Deploy a diplomatic envoy. Offer resources, fleet protection. Just enough to keep them reaching for more.”

“And the raiders?” Tali’ra asked.

Lyanna’s gaze darkened. “They will learn that we are not prey.”

The order was given. The Starborn Sect’s campaign had begun.

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

The shuttle descended through the upper atmosphere of Valliana Prime, the ancestral home of House Vallian. From the viewport, Lyanna Starborn studied the world below—rolling plains interrupted by towering spires of dark stone, remnants of a once-mighty fortress world. Now, its cities bore signs of neglect, their defenses outdated, their fleet dockyards half-empty. A noble house in decline, clinging to the last vestiges of power.

At her side, Sariah Voss stood silent, hands clasped behind her back, while Tali’ra Korr adjusted her belt of concealed weapons. They had debated the need for Lyanna to attend this meeting in person, but she had insisted. House Vallian was proud, traditional—they would respect strength only if they saw it firsthand.

The shuttle touched down in the main courtyard of Vallian Keep, an old but formidable stronghold overlooking the capital. As the ramp lowered, a welcoming party awaited them: a contingent of noble retainers, uniformed guards with ceremonial vibro-pikes, and at the center of it all, Lord Garrus Vallian.

He was an aging man, but his posture remained rigid with dignity. His armor—black and silver, bearing the sigil of his house—had been reforged countless times. A warrior past his prime, but still dangerous in his own right.

“Darth Fauste,” he greeted, inclining his head. “Or do you still insist on Starborn?”

Lyanna stepped forward, offering a polite but cool smile. “Titles are meaningless if they do not command power.”

The older man smirked. “Then I hope you have brought more than words.”

They were led inside, through halls lined with banners of Vallian’s past glories. The throne room was dimly lit, its high ceilings casting long shadows. Seated at his war table, Garrus wasted no time.

“You offer aid,” he said, eyes sharp. “What is the price?”

Lyanna took her seat across from him. “Survival.”

A scoff. “House Vallian has survived wars greater than this. The Void Pact are scavengers. The Archeon Concord is too preoccupied with their factories to field a real army. We have held this sector for generations.”

Tali’ra leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “You’re losing ground.”

Garrus’s jaw tightened, but he did not deny it. “Perhaps. But we do not kneel.”

“I do not ask you to kneel,” Lyanna said smoothly. “I ask you to stand with us.” She gestured to the holoprojector at the center of the table, bringing up a tactical map of the sector. “Your position is weak, but not unsalvageable. With our fleet reinforcing your defenses, the Void Pact will be driven back. Your noble claim to Archeon will be strengthened.”

“And in return?”

Lyanna’s expression remained impassive. “Loyalty. We do not take without giving. In exchange for our support, House Vallian will allow Starborn envoys to oversee military operations and supply distribution. Your army will be strengthened, your fleet modernized. And when the time comes, you will stand with us.”

Garrus leaned back in his chair, considering. His pride resisted, but desperation weighed heavier. After a long moment, he exhaled.

“A pact, then,” he said at last. “But make no mistake, Starborn. If I sense betrayal, House Vallian will not fall alone.”

Lyanna nodded, rising to her feet. “Then we have an accord.”

The first step had been taken. The foothold secured. Now, the real work would begin.

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

Back aboard the SS Machiavellian, Lyanna reviewed the latest intelligence reports with a measured calm. The pact with House Vallian had been secured, but the threat from the Void Pact was growing louder by the hour. The crisp beeps of the tactical console punctuated her thoughts as she scanned detailed maps of hyperspace routes and raiding vectors.

“Reports indicate that the Void Pact is mobilizing near the outer rim of Vallian territory,” intoned Commander Vex, her voice coming through the comms. Her tone held both urgency and expectation—a mix that made Lyanna lean forward.

The Void Pact, those opportunistic marauders, had begun testing the waters by launching swift, sporadic raids against Starborn supply convoys in the region. Their assaults were hit-and-run tactics designed to sow disarray and provoke a reaction. Yet Lyanna knew better: this was a prelude to something more systematic.

She rose from her command chair and paced slowly along the command deck, contemplating the unfolding events. The Starborn Sect’s military doctrine was built on overwhelming precision—strike hard, strike fast, and leave no room for counterattack. “Let them come,” she murmured to herself. “We shall show them the cost of underestimating us.”

Turning to Tali’ra Korr, who was reviewing the latest drone feed from the raider patrols, Lyanna issued her orders. “I want all available strike teams on standby. Deploy covert units to monitor their assembly points along the sector’s periphery. Once we identify their command structure, we will isolate and dismantle it.”

Tali’ra’s eyes flickered with a fierce determination as she replied, “They’ll learn our methods—swift and unforgiving. We can hit them before they know what’s coming.”

Outside, the cosmic canvas of space rippled with distant explosions—the first skirmishes already lighting up the dark void near a sparsely populated outpost. Lyanna watched the unfolding conflict with a strategist’s mind. Every battle, every skirmish was a test of both the Sect’s resolve and the enemy’s limits. The Void Pact’s audacity was a clear invitation for a decisive counterstrike.

Her mind briefly drifted back to Vallian Keep, where the fragile alliance had just been formed. Their combined forces would be crucial in turning the tide against the marauders. Yet Lyanna also knew that too early a show of force could provoke a coalition between the remnants of the Void Pact and other factions. “We must be deliberate,” she reminded herself, pausing to assess the incoming data.

A sudden alert flashed on the main screen: one of the raider groups had been detected converging on a lightly defended Starborn convoy. Without hesitation, Lyanna activated the override command for the designated strike unit. “Engage,” she ordered coolly. “Send in the fire teams. Target the command vessel and neutralize all hostiles.”

As laser fire streaked across space and enemy ships exploded in brilliant cascades of red and orange, Lyanna felt a surge of satisfaction. This was the art of war she lived by—calculated, decisive, and unyielding. The Void Pact’s early raid was swiftly repelled, a stark message to all who dared challenge the Starborn Sect’s expansion.

In that moment, as the chaos subsided and the tactical displays returned to a semblance of order, Lyanna knew that the first battle had been won. The path to securing a foothold in Archeon had been paved with blood and determination, and she was ready to press on.