Mygeeto had always been one of the most valuable worlds in the galaxy.
From orbit the planet appeared almost lifeless, a pale sphere of endless ice fields and jagged crystal formations that reflected the distant starlight like a thousand mirrors. Vast glacial continents stretched across the surface, broken only by enormous crystal spires that jutted upward like frozen lightning bolts trapped within the crust of the planet.
The world had not always been so cold.
Long ago Mygeeto had possessed a far more balanced climate. Ancient records suggested that nearly seventy percent of its surface had once been temperate plains and tundra, while only the polar regions were locked beneath ice. Temperatures in the equatorial zones had even reached a comfortable seventeen degrees, a stark contrast to the frozen wasteland that now dominated the planet.
But that age had passed.
Over centuries Mygeeto's internal heat had slowly faded as its volcanic activity ceased entirely. The planet's molten core cooled, and with it the climate collapsed into a permanent ice age. Snowstorms began to sweep across the continents almost continuously, grinding the landscape into massive glacial shelves that crept slowly across the surface.
What remained was a frozen world of staggering geological wealth.
The ancient Muun trade language gave the planet its name. **Mygeeto** meant *gem*.
The name was appropriate.
The cooling of the planet's interior had left enormous deposits of crystallized minerals trapped within its crust and mantle. Fields of **nova crystals**, veins of **lasing crystals**, and enormous concentrations of rare gemstones filled the planetary layers beneath the ice. Entire mountains were formed from crystallized mineral deposits.
The wealth buried beneath Mygeeto's glaciers rivaled the treasuries of entire star systems.
Even more valuable were the **artesian crystals** and **relacite** fields scattered across the surface. These minerals could store and amplify energy with remarkable efficiency, making them ideal for military technology.
Turbolaser cannons across the galaxy relied on crystal focusing chambers to concentrate energy bolts.
And many of those crystals came from Mygeeto.
Naturally the **InterGalactic Banking Clan** had claimed the world long ago.
When the Muuns discovered the planet they immediately recognized its economic potential. Mining operations spread rapidly across the icy continents, enormous industrial complexes carved directly into the glaciers themselves.
The native species of the planet—the **Lurmens**—were quickly reduced to a workforce little better than slaves. Forced labor camps expanded around the mining sites while Muun overseers directed the extraction of the planet's valuable resources.
Over time several cities were constructed across the frozen surface.
Unlike typical planetary settlements, the cities of Mygeeto were not built for civilian life. They were administrative centers designed to control the surrounding crystal mines and safeguard the wealth extracted from the planet.
Each city drew power from immense **capacitor towers** built around synthesized crystal reactors. These towers stored and distributed vast amounts of energy generated from the mined crystals themselves.
More importantly, many of those cities contained heavily fortified vaults.
Treasuries belonging to the Banking Clan.
Within those vaults lay unimaginable wealth.
Mygeeto eventually became the **sister world of Muunilinst**, the Banking Clan's homeworld. The economic influence of the two planets together rivaled even **Coruscant** in financial power.
Which meant the Banking Clan defended the world with extreme paranoia.
A massive orbital fleet guarded the planet.
Munificent-class frigates patrolled the asteroid field surrounding the system while heavy defensive stations monitored every hyperspace approach.
And those defenses had only grown stronger since the beginning of the Clone Wars.
The Republic had attempted to capture Mygeeto many times.
Every attempt had failed.
In the original timeline of the war, the campaign for Mygeeto had lasted nearly the entire duration of the conflict. Years of brutal fighting across the frozen cities and crystal fields had eventually turned the planet into one of the bloodiest battlefields of the Clone Wars.
Dagon Marek had no intention of repeating that mistake.
From the cockpit of the **Scimitar**, the stealth ship drifted silently through the outer asteroid belt surrounding Mygeeto.
The vessel's cloaking field rendered it invisible to nearly every sensor array in the system. Even the heavy scanning equipment mounted on the Golan defense platforms could not detect the faint distortion of the ship's presence.
Dagon watched the frozen planet slowly rotate beneath them.
The asteroid field glimmered faintly as chunks of crystal-rich rock drifted in slow orbit around the world.
Some of those asteroids were large enough to contain entire mining facilities.
The Banking Clan had turned even the debris field into a resource.
But the fleet protecting the world was the real obstacle.
More than **fifty Golan defensive platforms** surrounded the primary orbital approaches to the planet. Each station mounted heavy turbolaser batteries, torpedo launchers, and shield generators strong enough to withstand sustained bombardment from multiple capital ships.
And between those stations moved the fleet itself.
Over **two hundred Munificent-class frigates** patrolled the orbital grid in constant rotation.
Under normal circumstances, conquering Mygeeto would require a massive invasion fleet and months of fighting.
Dagon preferred a simpler approach.
Beside him in the troop compartment sat six figures clad in black commando armor.
**Puck.**
**Lucky.**
**Devil.**
**Chuck.**
And two additional clone commandos from the Thirteenth Legion.
Every one of them sat in perfect silence as the Scimitar drifted toward the first Golan platform.
The mission was simple.
Half an hour before the Republic fleet arrived, they would cripple the entire orbital defense network.
No alarms.
No distress signals.
No survivors.
Dagon rose from his seat.
"Time."
The commandos immediately stood.
The docking clamps of the stealth ship attached silently to the outer hull of the nearest Golan station.
A small breach charge opened a narrow entry point into the structure.
Dagon stepped through first.
The interior corridor beyond was filled with hundreds of droids and organic technicians operating the station.
Five thousand personnel manned each platform.
Normally that would require an army to eliminate.
But Dagon Marek was not an army.
He ignited his blade.
Lightning gathered around him as the familiar rhythm of **Thunder Breathing** filled his senses.
The combat discipline he had mastered long before arriving in this galaxy was built around one principle.
Speed.
Thunder Breathing mimicked the violent motion of lightning ripping through the sky. Every technique focused on instantaneous acceleration and devastating precision strikes.
Seven forms.
Seven movements.
Each one designed to kill before the enemy could react.
When combined with Sith lightning, the effect became something far more terrifying.
To observers it appeared as if Dagon himself had become living electricity.
The first form erupted through the corridor.
A flash of blue light.
Five droids exploded instantly.
The second form carried him down the hallway faster than the eye could follow.
His blade moved like a bolt of lightning.
Organic officers collapsed before they even realized an enemy was present.
The third and fourth forms flowed together seamlessly.
Lightning burst from his hands as he moved.
Droids melted.
Consoles exploded.
Metal doors were cut apart before alarms could activate.
The commandos followed behind him planting explosive charges on the station's engines and torpedo launchers.
But the killing belonged to Dagon.
Five thousand crew members.
Organic technicians.
Security forces.
Battle droids.
All dead within a single minute.
The dark side surged through him with intoxicating intensity.
Fear.
Pain.
Anger.
Every death fed the storm within his mind.
Corpses fell around him as lightning tore through the remaining resistance.
Blood froze on the metal floors of the station as ruptured organs and shattered bones littered the corridors.
But there was no time to linger.
"Charges planted," Puck reported.
"Next platform," Dagon replied calmly.
The team moved quickly.
The Scimitar carried them silently from one station to the next.
Each time the process repeated.
Dock.
Breach.
Kill.
Plant explosives.
Leave.
Six Golan stations were sabotaged before the timer reached twenty minutes.
By the time the final charge was armed, the sky around Mygeeto had begun to glow faintly with distant hyperspace signatures.
The Republic fleet was arriving.
From the cockpit viewport Dagon watched the first Venator-class Star Destroyer emerge from hyperspace above the planet.
Behind it dozens more warships appeared.
At that exact moment the first explosion erupted across the orbital grid.
A Golan platform detonated as the planted charges ignited its torpedo magazines.
Another station exploded seconds later.
Then another.
Within moments the entire defensive line collapsed into burning wreckage.
The Republic fleet slowed in surprise as the explosions spread.
Inside the Scimitar, Puck watched the chaos unfolding across the sensors.
"Sir," he said quietly.
"Republic fleet about to arrive."
Dagon turned the ship away from the burning stations.
"Charges ready?"
Puck nodded.
"All platforms sabotaged."
Dagon pushed the throttle forward.
The stealth ship accelerated away from the planet as flames spread across the orbital battlefield.
"Very well."
The engines roared.
"Turn and burn."