Memories of the Past (II)

The return, or in my case, the first arrival, to the fleet's operational base in the Linuri system, lacked any fanfare—no parades, no fireworks, nothing of the sort.

Just the warships of the fleet, returning from their missions, having successfully completed raids on rebel communication lines.

Among the nine Imperial-class Star Destroyers under my command, the Chimera is the only one classified as a second-generation vessel. At first glance, the differences between the "Imperial-I" and the "Imperial-II" are subtle, but in reality, they are significant. It's disheartening that I command only one of these magnificent ships.

When Captain Pellaeon informed me of our return to base, I was just finishing reading Lieutenant Colonel Astarion's report. It was concise yet effective. It should suffice if our intelligence is accurate.

Now, all that remained was to finalize preparations for the operation, issue instructions to some, receive reports from others, and present our plan for the near future.

As I left the cabin, I took several information chips with me, intending to review the materials at my leisure. I noticed that Rukh followed me closely, like a silent shadow. Although the Noghri didn't show any sign of remorse, the message was clear.

We traveled from the system where we met the mercenaries to the Linuri system in a relatively short time, thanks to the use of regional hyperspace routes. If we wanted, we could have visited the Noghri homeworld, the planet Honoghr. It was, as they say, "on the way," and a meeting with the clan leaders wouldn't have taken much time. However, I ignored Pellaeon's suggestion, making it clear that Rukh's failure still weighed on my mind.

Yes, one could argue that he is a bodyguard, not a saboteur, and that mistakes can happen. But the truth is, all Noghri who join the commando forces and leave the planet share the same upbringing—they are trained killers and saboteurs. Rukh is no exception. His failure serves as a reminder to the rest of the Noghri that failure is unacceptable. It also gives them a reason to reconsider their loyalty.

Frankly, I had no grand plans to release the Noghri into the "big world." As long as they remain on Honoghr, they won't encounter the Skywalker family, won't sense their presence, and won't realize they are descendants of their beloved "Lord Darth Vader," which could make them question their loyalty to me. But I have no intention of ignoring them for long. A lesson is only valuable when it's understood and internalized. Prolonging it into outright humiliation is a sure way to breed resentment. An old political officer once told me that. He was a good man, as harsh as the arctic cold, as composed as a paratrooper jumping from Everest, and full of worldly wisdom. It was largely thanks to him that, despite my struggles with physical training during my military service, I came to understand that serving the Motherland isn't just about being a soldier. The mind is a weapon too. Or as the political officer used to say: "The brain is a weapon first, and only then comes the Kalashnikov."

So, in the near future, I'll need to pay attention to them. But only after the dress rehearsal for the attack on Sluis Van is complete.

"Captain," I greeted Pellaeon, who met me on the bridge near the turbolift doors—the shortest route from the Chimera's living decks to the command tower.

"Grand Admiral," he responded. "The fleet is assembled, and the ship commanders are ready for the briefing."

"Has Lieutenant Colonel Astarion already departed the Chimera?" I inquired.

"Yes, sir," the Star Destroyer's commander confirmed. "The commander of the Steel Aurora is awaiting confirmation of the order. His ship is ready to move out."

"Proceed," I ordered as I moved toward my chair at the front of the bridge. "Any confirmation from Nklonn?"

"Indeed, sir," Pellaeon said as we walked along the central platform. "They've completed their semi-annual extraction of rare earth metals. Lando Calrissian has sold the previous reserves and has significant cash from the transaction—at least twenty million credits. Resistance is expected to be minimal. Plasma drills are in operation—about fifty units, possibly more. Additionally, local ships equipped with hyperdrives protect the planet from radiation, though these are not the best in class."

I didn't reply. The risk was clearly worth it.

The Star Destroyer has special compartments for briefings and various types of meetings, but at the moment, gathering all the officers involved in the operation on board the flagship is the most time-efficient. Already, half the month has been spent on various administrative travels, with time wasted that no one can return to me. Especially with upcoming events looming.

I sat down in the chair and rested my hands on the armrests. I paused for a moment, observing the starships hanging motionless in orbit around the planet Linuri. Only the fleet's combat wing was concentrated here—Star Destroyers and medium cruisers. Frigates have their own bases within Imperial Space, and until they are needed for their primary role, there's no point in mobilizing them. Communication systems suffice for talking with their commanders.

But first, a conversation with those whose efforts will largely determine the outcome of the Battle of Sluis Van.

"Captain Kalian," I greeted the first hologram.

** Captain Kalian, Commander of the Imperial Star Destroyer Victory-I **

The relatively young—he appeared to be not yet forty—commander of the Star Destroyer, whose power once instilled absolute terror in the enemies of the Old Republic, stood at attention, fully focused on my words.

"Your mission is to proceed under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Astarion to the planet Abafar," I outlined the objective. It was on this planet, in the Sprisen sector of the Outer Rim, that the Separatists, during the Clone Wars, mined rhydonium to fuel a hijacked Venator-class Star Destroyer for a mission to ram and destroy a Republic military station in the Carida system. "Provide the lieutenant colonel with maximum assistance in his mission. Report back upon completion."

"The order is received and understood, Grand Admiral," the Steel Aurora commander affirmed. "Shall I proceed?"

"Begin as soon as the lieutenant colonel is on board your ship," I commanded.

"Yes, sir," the hologram flickered out.

Pellaeon, standing behind my chair, made a disapproving noise.

"Is there something on your mind, Captain?" I asked without turning to look at him. Instead, I watched as the gray hull of Victory I began to move, leaving the fleet formation before accelerating into the blackness of space, jumping to lightspeed.

"Kalian is young, sir," he remarked. "He only took command of the Steel Aurora a couple of weeks ago after the previous captain's death. I'm concerned they might face difficulties, especially if they encounter rebel ships. Perhaps the Nemesis or Stormhawk would be better suited for this mission."

"The captain has served on this destroyer for over ten years," I reminded him, recalling the data from the newly appointed captain's personnel file. "And for more than three of those years, he served as the executive officer. Not a single complaint during his service. He's executed his duties well and shown tactical initiative. Let's give him the chance to prove himself. Or do you doubt that senior officers are fit to be captains?"

"No, sir," Pellaeon quickly replied, understanding the personal nature of my remark.

"Let's proceed," I decided, contacting another commander, this time a more seasoned and proven officer.

"Captain Brandei," I addressed the commander of the Star Destroyer Judicator. He greeted me with a stern expression, but that was nothing new—this officer always seemed dissatisfied with life. "Report."

** Captain Brandei, Commander of the ISD-1 Judicator **

"Admiral, sir," Brandei addressed me directly, bypassing Pellaeon as if he were invisible. It might seem like a slight against the flagship's commander, but protocol dictated that communication during such sessions should be directed solely to the senior officer. "The Judicator is fully prepared for the mission to Nklonn. We've stripped the hull of any equipment vulnerable to radiation or heat damage during the operation. Maximum precautions have been implemented to ensure the hull and crew remain combat-ready."

"Proceed when ready," I instructed. Then, after a pause, I added, "A detailed report from our operative, outlining specifics about the enterprise, will be forwarded to you. Note that there's a fleet of shieldships protecting freighters from stellar radiation as they transport cargo to and from the planet. Once you've confiscated the assets from Mr. Calrissian's operation, these ships must be destroyed. You'll be coordinated on-site by our agent, who will liaise with the ground force commander. Good luck."

"Understood, sir," Brandei acknowledged, and his hologram flickered out.

"Admiral, you didn't inform Brandei about the shieldships having hyperdrives," the Chimera's commander remarked. "That could help him avoid potential damage to the Judicator during the mission."

"If Brandei is as competent as his record suggests, he'll take the necessary tactical steps," I replied. "He's been briefed on the key points, and I've emphasized the importance of the shieldships. I'm not here to spoon-feed him; I require initiative, not mere execution."

Pellaeon fell silent for a moment.

"Perhaps we should dispatch the Inexorable," Pellaeon suggested. "Just as a precaution. Brandei will be operating deep in enemy territory. Calrissian might call for New Republic reinforcements from a nearby base... If the Judicator sustains significant damage and can't exit Nklonn's orbit on its own..."

"If that scenario unfolds, Captain," I responded patiently, "then it would clearly indicate that Captain Brandei is unfit for his command. Moreover, if the Judicator's crew allows their ship to suffer irreversible damage at the hands of a few ground-based Nomad fighters or whatever scrap the rebels might field from Sluis Van, they aren't worth a single decicred."

"One fighter did manage to destroy the Executor's control bridge at the Battle of Endor," Pellaeon pointed out, quite reasonably. "The rebels have a knack for leveraging their small craft effectively."

"That was an RZ-1 A-wing interceptor," I corrected him. "Secondly, it was armed with undischarged proton torpedoes. Thirdly, the fact that a small force can destroy a Star Destroyer, especially one nineteen standard kilometers in length, more than once, is a damning statistic for our shipbuilders—and for those who fail to utilize what they have."

"I understand, sir," Pellaeon replied, though there was a touch of distance in his tone, even a hint of surprise.

"Regarding your suggestion to deploy the Inexorable," I continued, "it's a sound idea. We'll proceed with that."

"Sir?" There was evident confusion in Pellaeon's voice. Not because of my agreement, but because he hadn't received specific orders yet.

"Inform the Inexorable's commander to move into Weyland's orbit and secure the planet until further notice," I commanded. "Additionally, send the Stately, one of our medium strike cruisers, to the Pakuuni system to ensure the security of our outpost there. Instruct the cruiser's commander that they're now responsible for maintaining control over the system and ensuring the technical readiness of the ships delivered by the mercenaries."

"Will they be delivered?" Pellaeon asked with a hint of doubt.

"In two, maybe three days, we'll know for certain," I replied. "Also, relocate our hostages to a secure base on the planet's surface and place them under heavy guard. We won't need them for the foreseeable future."

I pointed to the icon of the Star Destroyer Relentless on the tactical display and initiated a communication link with its commander.

** Commander of the ISD-1 Relentless, Captain Dorja **

An intriguing maneuver was unfolding.

A miniature hologram of Captain Dorja, an Imperial officer, appeared above the holoprojector embedded in my chair's armrest.

"Captain Dorja," I addressed him. "The Relentless, under your command, is assigned to the Garos system in the Msst sector of the Mid Rim."

"Sector R-7," Dorja quickly grasped the location. "A border territory with contested sectors that show allegiance to both us and the rebels."

"Correct, Captain," I confirmed. "The system is nominally loyal to the Empire, but has been known to support our enemies. Your objective is to secure a mining complex on the western coast of the main continent. The site produces a substance called hybridium. Additionally, our intelligence reports indicate the presence of rebel cells on the planet—this is unacceptable. I'm assigning you to eliminate this problem."

"Understood, I will carry out the order," Dorja replied through gritted teeth. He wasn't pleased. Being sent to deal with rebels while larger operations against the New Republic were in play was not what he had hoped for.

The real issue, though, was that Dorja had not joined my fleet voluntarily. He had been assigned here by the Imperial government due to his contentious nature and his inability to hold his tongue when confronted with injustice by his superiors. Dismissing a Star Destroyer commander for such behavior would be foolish, and killing him even more so. But sending him far from Imperial space, where he could operate independently, seemed the best course of action. His contentious nature had already caused friction with both Pellaeon and myself during past events. Consequently, he had been sidelined, playing a minimal role in my campaign, despite his undeniable talent as an officer.

That's why I was sending him to Garos IV. I needed hybridium for our stealth systems—lots of it. The presence of a rebel cell and rising anti-Imperial sentiment was disrupting our supply lines. Given Dorja's challenging personality, it was nearly impossible to integrate him into a broader strategic role. This mission would allow him to act autonomously, boosting his ego and helping to mend the strained relationship between us. A small psychological maneuver aimed at someone with a narcissistic streak and an inflated sense of self-worth.

"The mining complex and the hybridium it produces are critical components of our plan to crush the New Republic," I said coolly. "We can't afford to let incompetence compromise this planet. I need a thoughtful, capable officer there, and that's you. The speed at which we achieve this goal depends directly on your actions, Captain Dorja."

Upon hearing that he was integral to a grand plan, Dorja didn't immediately buy into it. But he considered it. Whether he saw this as a minor concession or a genuine recognition of his value was irrelevant at this point. What mattered was that he delivered results, and I was confident he would.

"I'll depart immediately, Grand Admiral," he replied formally, closing the conversation with a sharp nod.

Progress. I could sense the difference in how Dorja began the conversation and how he ended it. A small step towards a brighter future and a more productive working relationship.

"Captain Pellaeon," I turned to the Chimera's commander. "Contact the commander of the Sentinel," I named one of the fleet's Interdictor-class Star Destroyers, "and dispatch it on my orders to the Chasin system to secure the logistics routes there."

"Sir, but there's already a torpedo sphere and two frigates stationed there," Pellaeon pointed out. "An entire Interdictor might be overkill..."

"It's better to be over-prepared than underprepared, especially if our pirate acquaintance, Yazuo Vane, decides to take advantage of the situation," I explained. "A Star Destroyer equipped with gravity well projectors and a seasoned crew will dissuade him from any attempts much more effectively."

Plans must be balanced with the security of our loyal territories. Vane is a cunning and audacious pirate, and he might just be bold enough to take a gamble—especially given the rumors he's been spreading about the Chasin system. At the very least, he's entertained thoughts of seizing ships from there. We can't afford to give him such an opportunity.

"Captain, an urgent message," Lieutenant Tshel's voice cut through from behind. He turned to Pellaeon, who was engrossed in a report.

"Sir, we've received data from the beacons on Myrkr," Tshel reported, handing me the datapad with the transmission displayed prominently. "Someone altered the standard signal..."

"Hapspir, barrini, korbolan, triaxis," I murmured, parsing the coded message. "And I'm expected to decipher this?"

"Our cryptographers believe it's a high-priority access code," Lieutenant Tschel informed me, his curiosity evident.

"Could it be her?" Pellaeon said, astonished.

"Send a retrieval order to the Nemesis," I instructed, addressing Lieutenant Tschel. "Have them pick up our operative from Myrkr."

"Yes, sir," Tschel acknowledged with a salute and headed toward the communications hub.

"Sir," Pellaeon interjected, twirling his mustache. "The Nemesis was slated to participate in the Sluissi sector operation, alongside the Judicator."

"I'm aware, Captain," I replied logically. "Our plans have shifted. The raid on the Sluissi sector is postponed... but not abandoned."

"Understood, sir," Pellaeon responded, though there was an unmistakable hint of doubt. "Should we inform Master C'baoth of this change?"

"No," I vetoed firmly. "His role is to coordinate. He doesn't need to be burdened with minor adjustments."

Gilad nodded in silent compliance, though his expression remained dubious. A furrowed brow, a contemplative gaze turned slightly aside... He was clearly thinking that dispatching an entire Star Destroyer just to retrieve Mara Jade was excessive.

"The Emperor's Hand," I said, absently stroking the Ysalamiri, "is a valuable asset. If she's broken away from Karrde, it means her trust in him is fractured. We should show her how much we value her by sending a Star Destroyer to fetch her."

"But what if it's an ambush?" Pellaeon asked, pressing the point. "What if she's betrayed us and is leading us into a trap?"

"That's possible," I conceded with a shrug. "Which is why we're sending the Nemesis, not the Imperious, the Warlike, or one of our Strike-class cruisers. A competent crew and a sensible commander are exactly what's needed. Now, let's shift our focus to past matters, Captain..."