Epilogue
I feel my arm of steel twitching and my scars pulling on skin. Old aches and wounds hurting like they hadn’t in over a year. I hardly knew where the caffeine and ended started and the rest of me began. I felt half mad. So many deaths in the chaotic months after Dellalt. So many restless nights planning maneuver and attack, skirmish and retreat, every desperate attempt at holding out for another day, another convoy, another refugee, every time the decision had to be made to cut our losses and pull back. It was practically tearing me apart and it all came back to accursed Dellalt.
A calculated risk taken to ensure the rebellion did not die out above that damned world, yet would it pay out, or would it simply end us? We were facing annihilation after all. Death or victory and nothing in between. And to think that even after all the chaos and death that had already occurred, never mind the killing and destruction that had yet to happen, it would lead us here. Time had been bought and spent through sacrifice and martyrdom, all leading up to this.
Mintooine.
Again.
A third battle around the ice-capped world and its moon. A second brawl with Honor over this former Separatist stronghold. A brawl I had prepared for ever since the last one had ended. Defensive installations had been requisitioned, bought or stolen and then towed here to reinforce us after our previous engagement with the Imps in system. Minefields the size of planets assembled in and around the standard jump-points and fields the size of rogue planetoids and asteroids assembled around the less well traveled jump-points.
Civilian shuttles and freighters were de-crewed, filled with rhydo and manned with droids while hulking asteroids had been partially hollowed out and filled with old Calamari nuclear warheads and half-finished propulsion systems to act as fireships.
A fleet which could have conquered the Tion Cluster during the Clone Wars lies before me, hulking Calamari Star Cruisers stood abreast with battered and bruised Venators and Providences. Crippled cruisers, still undergoing emergency repairs from previous battles and the running skirmishes that had made up our barely successful evacuations of various chunks of the Ash Worlds and Jubilar Sector, stood alongside unpainted hulls which hadn’t even undergone their trails.
Civilians had been conscripted and press-ganged into worker-battalions to force the lunar yards beyond their standard capacity. Mechnics, soldiers and civilians worked day and night to finish bolting and welding on additional armor panels to Separatist Munificents while their co-workers mended hull-breaches and others still carved trenches and bunkers into the permafrost of Mintooine’s western ice-cap.
All that I wished I had had at Dellalt I had here.
Maker, I pray it will be enough.
I’m not sure if I could live with myself it it isn’t. Not after Luis, Hugh, Jim and the millions more who had already died.
“Sir, Cronau radiation spike!” Commander Welder interrupts my thoughts.
“And?”
“It’s increasing rapidly, based off of scout reports, this is practically a microjump.” A junior sensors officer reports.
“And it’s still growing.”
“All ships, battle stations! Red alert! Scramble strikecraft and make final adjustments to our picket lines for max firepower stat!” I bark rapid fire.
“Sir, enemy ships exiting hyperspace piecemeal.”
“Give us a readout.” Mi-Kus orders.
“Over a dozen ISDs, five, six, ten Tectors so far, two dozen Venators and climbing, one Secutor class battlecruiser on the far starboard wing, transponder reporting it’s the Coruscanti Pearl. I’m counting almost a hundred and fifty, no … two hundred cruisers of varying makes and models and twice that in light ships and pickets.”
“Comms traffic form the Pearl is implying Fleet Admiral Honor is still keeping her flag there, sir.” Commander Slas adds.
“Cronau isn’t going down!” A junior sensors tech reports worriedly.
“More ISDs and Tectors entering system, but not enough to explain the rads.” Welder adds as an Adjutant updates the tactical display to show us the increased number of enemies.
“I’ve got one ISD, transponder reading Tetrarch, and a quintet of Victories breaking formation, they’re gunning for our center.” An Adjutant reports.
“Keep an eye on Nantz, he’s a wily one.” I order.
“The Tribune has entered system, but it looks like it’s been reassigned. It’s not even acting as a section flag.” Commander Hursk reports.
“Then our reports of Dodonna’s dismissal may be accurate.” Mi-Kus points out.
“Who could possible still be available to act as Honor’s second then?” I ask into the room, “She can’t expect to manage a fleet of this scale with nothing but Commodores and a Rear Admiral, hells I would be hesitant to organize something like this with anything less than half a dozen Admirals.”
“I’ll start checking transponders for known flags, sir.” One of my veteran Adjutants says, immediately looking to find an answer to my question.
“Radiation keeps going up, enemy destroyers are only trickling in now. This doesn’t make sense!” Welder complains.
“She wouldn’t.” I mutter, a mix of horror and abject rage welling up inside me. Then, as to confirm my worst possible fears, a new ship enters realspace.
“Sir … one Mandator two class star dreadnought has entered the system. Transponder reports it as the Imperious.”
“Maker damn her.” I mutter as I stare at the gigantic warship ahead of us.
“Sir, your orders?” Mi-Kus requests.
I inhale deeply, then force the breath from my lungs. Once more in, then action, I would not let the dead hold me back now: “Prepare the fireships and the second skirmishing division. We break them here, there is no other alternative. Mon Cala is the logistical heart of our Rebellion, it being on the front lines is unacceptable, a loss here is unacceptable. Victory or death. We hold them like the Anaxsi of old. They cannot pass. They must not pass! They shall not pass! Weapons free, begin picket assaults in all sectors and begin calculating a fireship strike on that damnable dreadnought!”
Excerpt from Professor Thraken Owen Elix Dericote’s “Dark Night, Defiant years:of rebel activity in and around the Tion Cluster from 18 BBY to 5 ABY.”
It has been said that Fleet Admiral Dericote’s defeat at the Battle of Dellalt (17 BBY) was the final nail for the large scale action of the early rebellion. After all, it had resulted in the destruction of various ships and the presumed deaths of a considerable number of skilled veterans of the Clone Wars.
Even so, it is hard to be sure when exactly many of these officers died. In the months after the Defeat at Dellalt, as the Rebels named the battle, there was a rapid reorganization of forces, various resources consolidated within the Kingdom of Mon Cala, the Republic of Dornea and the various Fortress worlds of the early years of the rebellion. Be it the factories stripped from Garel and Cophrigin or the refugees brought within the safety of the Fortress Worlds of the Rebel Coalition, many a world built up by Admiral Dericote was stripped of their developments by him.
Returning to the topic at hand, many deaths are believed to have occurred during the rush to consolidate forces and resources after Dellalt. It is however difficult to narrow down when and where exactly many of these officers died. Commodore Hum Hugh’s earliest reported death was at the Defeat at Dellalt, where her flagship was destroyed during the final moments before the orders of retreat were given [Certain historians believe that this was the final nail which convinced Admiral Dericote to abandon the system, though this remains unverified]. Following this she was allegedly killed over Cophrigin, where her assumed second flagship was crippled in attempt to keep distance between the refugees and Admiral Dodonna. Her next claimed death was at Jabiim when her forces deployed reinforcements to the rebel stronghold below. It is said she was killed again during the 3rd Battle of Mintooine when she or more widely accepted her successor, who is believed to have taken up her name as was practice among various officers during this time, died while leading an assault against the Imperial star dreadnought used in this critical battle.
Another famous example would be High Commodore A’baht of Dornea who famously lived throughout the early rebel period and beyond. He was claimed dead by Imperial hand no less than twice during this tumultuous time period [Once during the 2nd Battle of Mintooine and once in a skirmish near Nyny]. So too was it claimed that Commodore Strom of the 97th O.R. Squadron was killed during this time [Specifically during the evacuation of Mykapo], despite his survival and later promotion to make up for the many losses in these times.
Though most infuriating to many a historian nowadays is the fact that many of these deaths cannot be clarified by my grand uncle’s usually pristine journals and the recordings of the family droid R4-K3. The primary reason for this is his slip into depression and his return to alcoholism in this time, leaving many of his notes sparse and incomprehensible, even with the eventual reveal of his conlang and the declassification of the old ciphers of the time. R4 too is rather unreliable at this time, as she focused more on the personal struggles of my grand uncle, grandfather, grandmother and great grandmother [While the personal history is of great value to our family and the biographers of the Fleet Admiral Dericote, it is of little value to many a military historian].
A more certain fate belongs to Vice Admiral Luxerite who also had a few close calls [The Imperials originally believing him to be killed in action during the Defeat at Dellalt]. However he is believed to have managed to survive the destruction of his flagship’s bridge and would later lead the Rebel forces at Toong’l until his later death near the end of the three year long siege of the system. This however didn’t prevent Imperial forces from claiming him to have died two more times during this chaotic period. Once over Xoraes in a lesser skirmish and once again over Trasemene during a Rebel supply run to Sy Myrth.
Commodore Dem Jim of the 209th Outer Rim Squadron, an ardent supporter of Admiral Dericote in the regional command and later into the early Rebellion, is confirmed dead during the 2nd Battle of Wyndigal where he valiantly defended the evacuation craft for experienced mechanics and factory workers as well as various refugees fearing Imperial reprisal, including the family of the local Governor. We know of his death, in part, due to his replacement and protege, then Senior Captain Jun Sato, who took over command of the battle and the evacuation effort after his CO’s untimely death.
Vice Admiral Praut meanwhile succumbed to their wounds near the end of the scramble which followed the Defeat at Dellalt. They famously died during the Third Battle of Mintooine, the second Imperial Rebel engagement in system, where the sacrifice of the remaining 1st Heavy Reserve Squadron held off an Imperial thrust by Fleet Admiral Honor, destroying the infamous star dreadnought Imperious and ending the battle. The highly respected officer would be awarded the credit for the destruction of that Mandator II star dreadnought and be awarded the Star of Coruscant, the Medal of Bravery and the Cross of Glory. The bridge of their flagship, the Arkania, was destroyed in the engagement and the Rear Admiral [Her promotion occurred posthumously] suffered from a mixture of exposure and various shrapnel wounds. They would live through the duel with the SSD, rescued by their men, but the wounds were too severe and they succumbed shortly after the final reactor failure of the Imperious.
The highest former Republic ranking officer to die on the Rebel side shortly after the Defeat at Dellalt was Admiral Slocum of the 2nd, epithet Sith Worlds Cordon, Fleet’s 17th, epithet Wardens, Battlegroup. His flagship at the time, the Sith’s Demise, suffered a catastrophic reactor hit during the 2nd Battle of Mintooine. And while the ship would survive and be repaired over the course of several years, the man, alongside much of his bridge crew, did not. He is credited in buying Captain General Ackbar of the Polity of Mon Cala, later Fleet Admiral of the Rebel Alliance, enough time to rally the Calamari Merchant Fleet to Mintooine’s defense.
The former Senator and later General(-issima), Toonbuck Toora also died in the tumultuous times after the Defeat at Dellalt, though it is disputed if she went down with her flagship over Sy Myrth, or later died at Jabiim as others suspect. It doesn’t help that her personal battlegroup, the 8th Forge Defense Battlegroup, was almost entirely destroyed over the course of four battles, leaving only circumstantial evidence from Vice Admiral Hatha’s rushed reports on Sy Myrth, General Kota’s reports written shortly after his blinding at Jabiim and a few confused reports from the Sy Myrthians who escaped the fall of their homeworld.
The most outrageous acclaimed deaths however would be the seven deaths of Rear Admiral [another posthumous promotion] Luis Sicato. He allegedly died four times in battle, twice in Imperial raids and once in a Rebel raid. The precise dates are difficult to narrow down, as his participation in various battles is cited by various Imperial and Coalition forces [For an excellent paper on the alleged deaths of the Rear Admiral see “Second fiddle or vital Pillar” by Professor Ulisk of the University of Yabol Opa].
It is almost a certainty that the first two deaths are not possible, on account of him appearing in a photo alongside [later] General Solo and Admirals Dericote and Strom which is believed to have been taken after those deaths [though some colleagues believe the photo to have been taken earlier and that this is an edited version created at the time of release]. This would mean he was one of the few sailors rescued at Dellalt and survived a later engagement in the rearguard between Dellalt and Mintooine. However this makes any of the later assumed deaths, from the 2nd Battle of Mintooine onward both feasible yet impossible to prove on account of the lacking records, many of which were purposefully destroyed during the term of General Bvinsk as Head of Operations for the Rebel Coalition.
It should be mentioned, that the notorious pragmatist repeatedly deemed many documents to be too dangerous to keep. He would limit many a document and report to only the eyes of Coalition High Command and their Oversight Committee during his time in office. His later assassination dooming every report he deemed too critical, for even them, to the dustbin of history. Despite this, a handful of sources survived, though none with information on the precise deaths of many of the heroes of these campaigns.
… … …
Excerpt from Senator Philly Dericote’s speech to the Galactic Senate. Date: [REDACTED].
“-It was famously said by the Senator from Alderaan, the Royal Consort Bail Organa, that the final words spoken by the Senator from Naboo, Padmé Amidala honored representative of the Chommel Sector, within the ancient and hallowed Senate Chamber on Coruscant went as follows: So this is how liberty dies, with thunderous applause.
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Yet as my fellow Senators have clapped and lauded the many achievements of our government, celebrated the peace hard won that you clamor for, damning the cost, I would recall the actions of many an honored soldier and sailor upon said world some [garbled] years ago! For it was on this day in the first year of Empire where the maggots of the tyranny were almost removed one and all! When the brave members of the HONO Clique attempted to remove the rot which had so thoroughly embedded itself into our Republic.
Remember these heroes’ names! Remember the glorious Fleet Admiral Zsinj of Chandrilla, defender of the Corellian Trade Spine, Mistress of the Hyperlanes and Liberator of Bestine! Remember honored Admirals Gerra, Hornblower and Bush, each with achievements to rival any veteran of the Clone wars, who came to the call of Republic when duty demanded of them to serve the Empire! Remember the expert logistician Admiral Jerjerrod who made the attempted restoration of the Republic possible to begin with! Remember General Gentis who almost killed Palpatine himself! Remember the spymaster Solomahal who helped coordinate them all and provided the cover they needed for the chance at victory!
IT WAS THEM! They who refused to allow the Republic to rot from within! To fully decay into Empire! They who defied Palpatine when almost nobody else would! We must remember and honor them for the foresight they had! For their wisdom and drive to action!
And when they died, be it in a final charge to bring honor back to the Navy, destroying contact lists and intelligence dossiers so the Empire could not use them, or executed on Palpatine’s order in a brutal and criminal brawl to the death between themselves and the few Separatist officers who had been captured and deemed to have potential [the Senator spits a loogie upon his pod]. When this torch of liberty was extinguished, a single ember remained!
The last Republican! The Black Hussar! The Hangman of Balshebr! The Defender of Mon Cala! The Liberator of Raxus! The first Rebel! Protector and honorary citizen of the entire Rimma Trade Split! Man of far too many epithets and owner of too many awards! FLEET ADMIRAL DERICOTE!
IT WAS HE, WHO RALLIED THE REMNANTS, REPUBLIC AND CONFEDERATE, WHO CRAVED LIBERTY WITH THEIR WHOLE HEARTS! HE WHO ACTED! HE AND HIS MEN WHO DRAGGED THE REPUBLIC’S BODY OUT OF ITS PREMATURE GRAVE! THEY WHO HEALED THE ROT AND MENDED THE WOUNDS!
[The Senator catches his breath] When Senator Amidala spoke those well known words. When she saw the Senate throw away the final liberties and freedoms of her people and theirs. She saw only despair. She did not see the fire which remained. She did not see the MIGHT of our Republic.
To those who say that nothing can be done, to those who proclaim that the tragedy which has befallen us, gives us only the choice to negotiate a peace settlement. I have this to say.
Even when the Republic lay dying, even when all hope was lost, she fought on. The Republic allied itself with former foes. Colluded with Pirates, Smugglers and Criminals. Collaborated with Anarchists, Socialists, Separatists, Confederate true believers, Reformists, Old Guard Republicans, Nationalists, Industrialists, Pragmatists and Idealists all! Made deals with the Triads, Cartels, Consortiums and Gangs. At her most desperate she still helped the downtrodden to stand tall! Even when she lay dying she WOULD NOT DIE!
THE REPUBLIC DID NOT ALLOW HERSELF TO BE MURDERED AND CONSUMED! SHE BIT, KICKED, SCRATCHED AND FOUGHT UNTIL SHE COULD BREATHE AGAIN! THE REPUBLIC DID NOT GO DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT! SHE DID NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT! SHE FOUGHT ON, FOR OVER TWENTYYEARS!
[The Senator pants for a few seconds, catching his breath before righting himself and racing his hand through his hair. He then bends over the podium, glancing around the Senate rotunda for a moment longer before speaking.]
And you know what? SHE. FUCKING.WON!-”
I stare at the tally and sigh, I shouldn’t be surprised, not after my repeated failures. Not after Dellalt. Not after giving up over a hundred worlds to fortify a dozen. Not when the only thing keeping me from fully sinking into the bottle was the next fight.
At least I knew Bvinsk would be a stable hand. I motion for him to approach and clap as he joins me on the podium. I quickly shake his hand and salute the man who had just replaced me as Head of Operations of the remaining rebels. It was bitter sweet. It showed the people weren’t afraid of me, that they were willing to continue with our system of checks and balances. That they were willing to continue the fight, even if it meant I was no longer at the helm.
It still stung, to know that my many many failures had eroded their trust in me. That while the recent invasion of Targonn and the massacre of her fleet and the orbital fire thrown at her capital had been the final nail for me still holding my post, it was not the definite one. No, that had been Dellalt, Argai and the sheer ruthlessness that had been forced from me at Mintooine again and again and again.
Half of the Fortress Worlds still held, even after the disaster that was Dellalt and the heavy losses suffered at Mintooine. Despite it all, we would still be secure and Bvinsk would ensure we continue on the straight and narrow while we build up our defenses and continue to reach out to allies. The Empire could try all they like at breaking us at Mintooine, Pakuuni, Jabiim, Dornea or New Heurkea. They would simply smash against us and find us standing strong despite it all, like a house in a sandstorm.
“No hard feelings?” Bvinsk asks.
“None at all.” I reply and step back.
The General quickly moves to address the various representatives and high command. I fully move to stand off to the side, best show support from now on. After all, just because one chapter was ending didn’t mean that another hadn’t just begun.
I look at the design before me, frowning. I didn’t hate it. It would be faster, be about the same in crew requirements and have a similar armament. The version with an expanded hangar was definitely the better of those presented though. All of the proposed models also fielded five extra medium dual turbolaser batteries, though it lost five of the laser cannon emplacements for that. It would be … annoying to loose those, but with the expanded hangar bay this version had … it should be about equivalent.
And clearly our current Dreadnoughts weren’t holding up well enough. Sure a M5 could take on an M4 never mind the early war M3s or the prewar M2s. The problem was, for every M5 we had, the Imps could manage to send three M4s against us. Never mind when they sent an Imperial at us. We only had so many Star Cruisers, battleships and destroyers on hand and most couldn’t take on an Imperial one or two by themselves. What we needed was something better, the last battles over Targonn had shown that clearly and this up-armament program looked promising if nothing else.
“You’re calling it the Assault class?” I ask.
“Yessir, though depending on the type it’ll either be a Type H, Type M, Type L, or Type F.”
“Those being heavy, medium, light and … what?” I clarify.
“Fast, sir. Technically the Type F is the fastest model we could produce, but its limitations are its engines and profile, more stuff in the center to hit in a broadside engagement, see? But a rapid response heavy cruiser could do Pakuuni and our raiders a lot of good. We’ve also considered producing a Type C, a carrier, but … well the feasibility studies we did didn’t really show that much of an overall improvement of efficiency when compared to the Dreadnought class Leviathan model.”
“Then you should probably drop it.” I reply, “Unless it shows a significant improvement along the lines of these here we shouldn’t waste time, resources and political capitol on a ship that won’t work.”
“Well … it’s still in development, sir.” The Rendili StarDrive engineer says, “Current estimates have it at just below the cutoff. We think if we adjust some of the modules, maybe fully scrap a few others, we should be able to make it viable.”
“I’ll consider it.” I reply eventually.
“Well … your thoughts on the others, sir?”
“That Type L looks a bit flimsy.” I mutter after a moment, it had the same spindly spine the engineers insisted the Nebulon-B ought to have after stripping away superfluous armor and the internal hangar bay.
“Because it’s more of a standard cruiser, maybe a heavy frigate if you want to be overly negative about it. But we figured, if we have all the wing panels made and find a few Dreadnoughts whose center and rear aren’t looking so good. Well … might as well save some credits and use our spare parts stockpiles.” The Engineer replies.
“I don’t … hate it.” I begin, “Reusing spare parts is a good start and Maker knows there’s enough old Dreadnoughts lying about in old battlefields to warrant multiple designs depending on what’s salvageable, but … these upgrades will take almost as long as it takes our refit yards to arm and refit most salvaged Dreadnoughts anyway.”
“Of course, sir. But considerin’ the Little Revenge, Fondor’s Daughter and Little Star all need heavy repairs anyways …” The man leads.
“We might as well upgrade them as well.” I finish before nodding, “Alright, put the Little Revenge down for an upgrade to Type H. Double check this with their Captains, but I’d bet bottom chits that the other two in my section will end up as Type Hs too.”
“And the rest of the fleet?”
“We’ll see. Probably end up retrofitting them as they get damaged in the next Imp siege attempt or raid.” I reply.
“Good to know, sir.”
Organa’s palace was quite the sight for tired eyes. Five years of renewed fighting, eight battles above Mintooine, only one of which had been fought against the Separatists. Though that still baffled me, nine years of war and finally I was no longer in charge of everything in my old command. It was … relieving and weird in equal measure. Especially since one of the first orders I had received was to meet with our primary allies in the Core.
Alderaan was beautiful. Pristine buildings and large pine forests with snow-capped mountains. It was something to behold, something to cherish for the locals and visitors alike. I could barely understand how a people from such a world would be willing to try and give everyone a chance at what they had. A world of philosophers, a series of fair monarchs and nobles, and various freedoms and liberties.
I bow my head in respect to the approaching royal family, two small kids beside the royal couple glaring at me in my full Navy uniform, only slightly obscured by the open trenchcoat. Medals gleaming on my chest below my rank plaque. My officer’s cap perfectly placed upon my head to obscure the upper half of my face, a certain deadly needle keeping it in place.
“Your majesty, it is a genuine pleasure to be here.” I say in greeting, a sly smile on my face.
“Admiral, I wish we could receive you more publicly, as befits your station and the honors you have accrued.” The Queen regnant, Breha Organa, says in greeting.
“Something I am more than willing to call you on once this war is over.” I reply, my shoulders almost buckling under the weight of the galaxy at the reminder.
“What war?” The girl interrupts proceedings, her hand gripping that of her twin.
“Leia.” Her father admonishes lightly.
“Oh it’s no problem at all, little highness. I’m usually busy fighting in and around the Tion Cluster.” I say with a small smile.
“Thraken.” Bail Organa warns in a rather similar tone.
“What? They’re about … seven, ain’t they? Should be able to keep their traps shut when necessary.” I reply with a flick of the wrist.
“Maybe we should move this inside?” Queen Breha suggests, slight amusement in her eyes while the rest of her face remains a perfect mask.
We quickly do as suggested by the Queen regnant, moving to a private dining area where I quickly nab a carafe of fine smelling wine and pour myself a glass, to the chagrin of the royals and their staff around me. I return the carafe to its place and appreciatively inspect the white wine. Fine color, no clouds or debris, nice smell and exquisite taste. I nod my approval and appreciation, always fun to be annoying royals. Bail was shaking his head in one of his hands, Breha looked like I was some interesting animal in a zoo, little Leia looked like I had just kicked a puppy for ignoring her parents, decorum and probably me looking like an Imperial Admiral who thought too highly of himself. The boy, though, he was simply staring at me curiously, head tilted slightly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of me yet.
“Right then, what could possibly be so important as to drag me away from the Command? Sure, Targonn’s been a mess, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be of use there.” I ask.
“We have certain officers interested in joining up with you and yours. We figured we might as well take advantage of your other meetings in the Core to coordinate a way for them to join you with minimal suspicions on our end from our friends in Imperial Intelligence.” Bail says.
“Fair enough. I suppose a relief mission to the devastated worlds of the central Tion Cluster, Ash Worlds and Jubilar Sectors could be a possibility, maybe send a couple CR90s our way while you’re at it?” I suggest.
“I think I have a better idea.” Breha suggests, “We still have the old Leviathan.”
“Well, I certainly won’t say no to Admiral Vosh’s old flagship.” I reply, “Don’t suppose the old Pirate’s Bane will be joining us?”
“He will not. He is enjoying his retirement here a bit too much.” Bail replies as I take another sip of the wine.
“He’s a fun tutor though!” The boy says, “He lets me try out the bigger sims from the Clone Wars!”
“Well I would hate to tear him from the young Prince. A pity for me and mine though, would love to see his expression at one of the privateering briefings.” I reply with a grin, “Which sim is your favorite?”
“I like Fondor a lot. It’s kinda easy once you figure out what your allies are actually doing. But Raxus has the best starfigther battles!” The kid says excitedly.
“Ah.” I reply, wow, the kid really knew how to tug at my heartstrings, didn’t he, “You know I fought at Raxus. I’d love to hear your critiques and see how your next run goes while I’m still here.”
“Sure!” The boy says excitedly, “Wait, if you fought at Raxus do you know who commanded Little Squadron? All I get when I look it up is redacted files, even when I borrow dad’s codes.”
“Luke, you should know better than to steal your father’s codes.” Breha says with a sigh.
“Well let me prevent further misuse of Senatorial codes by enlightenin’ you.” I interrupt the probable scolding, “Little Squadron is commanded by Hege Solo of Corellia. She was … Maker, just a Captain in the Republic Starfighter Corps back then. Now … she’s a bit more important.”
“You think I could meet her?” The kid asks, stars in his eyes.
“We’ll see. Maybe next time I come around I’ll lug the madwoman with me.” I reply with a grin.
“So who are you anyway? Mom called you an Admiral and you said you fought at Raxus, but most of the participants from that are dead or old or really quiet about what happened there.” The girl interrupts the flow of conversation, curiosity clearly overriding her manners. Either that or my own lack of manners convinced her I didn’t deserve the respect.
I quickly glance at the two adult Organas, Breha gives me a nod, Bail gives out a soul deep sigh. I quickly place my glass on the table before making my formal introduction. I give a low bow, pulling my knife with my right and placing my metal fist just below my jugular, a full grin on my face as I do. The sword is presented pointed away from the royals, then returned to its sheath with an unnecessary flourish as I return to my full height, speaking as I do.
“Well then. I suppose I have the pleasure of being the very old Thraken Owen Dericote, the Dericote, scion of Fondor, Fleet Admiral of the Republic, once Marshal Administrator of the North East Slice and East Tion Commands, Black Hussar, Defender of Mon Cala, Hangman of Balshebr, Liberator of Raxus and Tion, Rebel, previous Head of Operations for the Rebel Coalition Council, student of General Solomahal, once member of the HONO Clique, friend to too many a ghost and the only man who has successfully defeated Fleet Admiral Honor in battle. At your service, little royals.”
The girl’s eyes widen and I had the feeling she had just forgiven me for all my previous insults while the boy’s mouth gapes at having a genuine Rebel present before him. Meanwhile Bail sighs again at my dramatics while Breha looks at her children with love. I allow my grin to settle into a smile. Oh yes, this would be fun.
“Exciting in five, four, three, two, one.” Navigations utters.
“Focus power to shields and cut engines, let’s make for orbit quietly.” I order.
The Little Revenge, a fully retrofitted Assault class heavy cruiser, plummets down towards the surface of Mimban alongside the CR90, designation Wasp, from the 120th and a duet of GR-75 transports. The four ships had avoided the main Imperial blockade by utilizing a High Republic era hyperspace route the Mimbanese had found for us. Awfully nice of them, after all, they didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been happy to plot my own route.
The four ships break into the atmosphere and begin their approach to a seemingly random patch of dirt the Mimbanese Liberation Army had set aside for us. It was remote, out of direct sight of the Imperial trench-lines and best of all, out of their surface to air artillery range.
“All power into engines stat.” Mi-Kus orders.
The ships’ engines flare to life and fight against the gravity of the world. We stabilize a few kilometers above surface as our escort and transports continue to the surface below. The Wasp and the GR-75s land on the dirt while five shuttles leave the Little Revenge.
“Sitrep.” I ask.
“The supplies are unloading, the T3-Bs are taking a bit, and the locals are busy getting their handful of civies, wounded and volunteers onboard. Our shuttles are about to re-dock and unload our first set of passengers as well sir,” Commander Slas reports.
“Enemy has us on sensors, it won’t be a free escape as we hoped. We’ll have Ties here in about ten minutes.” Commander Welder reports.
“Tell the Wasp to hurry up, I want the extra point defense. Start bringing us about, we’ll need to get out of here asap or else face the entire Imperial blockade.” I order.
The Shuttles unload another delivery of supplies and the Wasp has finally finished loading up on passengers and starts her ascent into low orbit beside the Little Revenge. I could see the T3-Bs finish unloading from the GR-75s on the tactical display as they start tacking on more passengers.
“Sir, incoming battery fire!” A sensors officer barks.
“What?”
“Ground artillery, we must’ve gotten too close.” Comes my reply.
“Wasp, escort the GR-75s into orbit, we’ll be along shortly. Helmsman, bring me above that artillery emplacement.” I command as ground ordnance crashes against our ship. The shields, at their lowest possible power level to allow us to maneuver in atmosphere, barely taking a few hits before shattering. The remaining shots crash against our hull, pockmarking it in various small craters.
“Sir, what about the Ties?”
“Our heavy lasers will hold them off long enough. ETA, to the artillery and ETA on enemy Ties?” I ask.
“Thirty secs to arty, fifty till the Ties get to our next location.” comes the reply.
“Good, that means we’ll be able to give them a couple rounds as a parting gift.” I say.
A bit more than thirty seconds later we’ve reached the edge of the enemy artillery emplacement. All it takes is a nod from myself and the lower four medium turbolaser batteries and a handful of heavy laser and light quad-turbolaser emplacements unleash a salvo upon the artillery which decided to annoy our cruiser.
“Two more salvos, spread them out, let’s remind the Imperials there are better options than fighting here for the Empire.” I order.
Another salvo and the artillery dugouts are turned into a mix of slag, glass and mud. The final salvo is mostly for show, it targets a few communications trenches and damages a couple of the larger roads allowing transport to the front lines.
“Helmsman, get us out of here. I want the heavy lasers prepped to take on any intercepting Ties and link up with the rest of the taskforce. Launch the escape pods loaded with the leaflets and imperial contraband.” I command.
“Sir, the rest of the task-force is already in orbit and taking on a diminishing half squadron of Ties, the other half is heading towards us.”
“Put more power into the engines. Get on calculating our jump and give the Wasp and the GR-75s our ETA.” I order. This shouldn’t take long.
Grand Moff Tarkin overlooks the map of his Oversector Outer. One thing marring its uniformity and stability unlike any other. The Rebels around Mon Cala. He didn’t understand why the Emperor wouldn’t allow him to crush them outright. Sure, he had heard the reasoning from Lord Cronal and Director Yularen, but why should they keep this token resistance when they could crush them outright?
The man from Eriadu sighs. He was never able to muster enough forces to outright crush the rebels before he was being roadblocked by Moff Therbon, Yularen, Moff Renau, Moff Byluir or the Emperor himself. Even when he directed the Emperor’s attention at the known abilities of General Bvinsk and Admiral Dericote he had been dismissed. After all, for all the logistical ability and skill in battle the two had, their support base was rather small, never mind the industrial might of the Mon Cala Colonies and the obvious war economy the kingdom had moved over to.
Sure, the Rebels were mostly concentrated within a single sector, but the issues they were causing, simply by being a safe haven, were clearly outweighing the reasons to keep them as a controlled opposition. Especially when various Imperial units all but mutinied when ordered to assault one of the dreaded Rebel Fortress Worlds.
At least project Stardust was looking to be finished on time. Once it was done, these Rebel worlds would be nothing more than spacedust. Pakuuni turned into an asteroid field that would make the belts look tiny. Mintooine and its moon turned into debris. New Heurkea’s swamps and industry burned away. Dornea reduced to atoms. And Mon Cala? The world where this rebellion began? It would be reduced to ashes of ashes, fragments of dust, partials of specs. Nothing would remain of it, but a warning. A warning of what happens when one betrays the New Order.
I watch as the kids scamper about on the beach, enjoying the water and sand while I nurse the cocktail in my right hand. It was rather funny to watch the kids run about, Elix and Alice’s little gremlins hopping about and playing with the local kids as the twin suns of Dac shine down on us, the shadow of an MC80 hanging in low orbit momentarily making it look like there was only a single star shining down upon us.
This was nice, peaceful even. This was what I was fighting for. To let them grow up without the fear of Star Destroyers looming over them all. To keep the sword of Damocles swaying far away from their heads. To keep them safe and happy. To keep them free. And if allowed, I would ensure every child has such security.
I glance at the port on my left arm. For that, I would be willing to sacrifice far more than what I had so far. For that, I would be willing to sacrifice almost everything. My very life may be nothing but war, blood. loss and grief. I may be damned to all nine Hells for the crimes and sins I commit, but for this? For such a bright future? It would be worth it.
It had to be.