“The Grand Admiral’s vessels seem to be reporting in, Commodore. They’re requesting orders.” The officer sounded sincerely surprised.
“Are they, now.” Theren looked sideways, to Tornel. “Thank god for small mercies.”
“God?”
Theren chuckled slightly, and looked straight ahead. “Fan out in the formation I’d defined earlier; one squadron on each side, a quarter of the system apart. Have their Imperial Star Destroyer join the central group, and have three of the Aegis Star Carriers join each of the groups. Inform Carnor Jax that he may divide the rest of his vessels among the three groups as he pleases, and order all craft not to deploy any more fighters unless explicitly ordered.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * * * *
It was a slow, arduous journey through the Bastion system, stressful even with the sound tactics of Theren Gevel’s three-pronged assault plan. All of the support craft for the Star Destroyers were monitored closely, as they combed and swept the system carefully. Some unrest developed on the bridge of the
Zenith, as officers onboard the craft began to doubt that there truly was any enemy battle group hidden in the system.
Two hours later, they’d only journeyed one-third of the way through the wreckage, towards the center of the system. “Sentinel shuttle X-Five-Gamma requests a return to the
Zenith for restocking and refueling.”
Theren looked at the tactical display for a moment, and then shook his head. “No, we can’t spare them. The left group is coming up on that large concentration of drifting debris, there, and we need sensors feeling it out.”
The communications officer furrowed his brow, turning around slowly. “Sir, they’ve been out there for an hour on two hours’ fuel. If we meet the enemy, they won’t have enough supplies to fight.”
The commodore stared at the officer for a moment. “What’s your name, officer?”
“Arrik Kinev, sir.”
“Did I give you permission to speak, Arrik Kinev?”
“No, sir.”
“There is a certain way you have to go about this, Kinev. If we don’t have every possible advantage, the cover offered by this wreckage could destroy us.” Theren said this with finality.
“With all due respect,
sir,”
Theren turned, eyes blazing, towards the man. “Get off of my bridge, officer. You are relieved of your position. We’ll be dropping you off at Coruscant, if I don’t vent your fu
cking carcass into space before then.”
The man took off his headset and stormed from the bridge. The other officers watched him go, stunned. “I understand,” Theren said, “That you are reluctant to trust a new commodore. But you’ll do it, and if not, one way or another, we’ll be sending you home in a @#%$ matchbox. Question my orders if you must, but if any of you ever question my authority, you’ll share Kinev’s fate.” What Theren didn’t say, was that he regretted ever having been sent on that god-forsaken mission; that command expected him to take on such a gargantuan task with one Star Destroyer and a green, distrustful crew was ridiculous. The situation grew more and more complicated.
“Sir?” One of the officers said, breaking the silence. “Sentinel X-Five-Gamma reports some sort of movement, in the wreckage of a Dreadnaught. It caught a momentary ion trail.”
Theren stared, for a moment. At times, he thought, fate had a way of telling you when you were right. “Have the Left Group light that ship up. Destroy the wreckage altogether; let them know we see them. Do not allow anyone in the Central or Right groups to fire, or I’ll have their heads.”
“Yes, sir.”
Through the viewport, laserfire began to streak across space to the left of the
Zenith. The crippled, long-floating hulk of a Dreadnaught Cruiser buckled under the onslaught, exploding repeatedly until it broke apart, a minor explosion erupting from what Theren presumed to be a detonating reactor core.
And out of the fiery blast, came one, small fighter. It was almost imperceptible through the blaze surrounding it, but it was certainly there, fleeing its observation point. “Scan that!” Theren ordered. “Ensure its identity.”
“Its transponder broadcasts no signal, sir. It can’t be one of ours.”
“Wait a moment. Let it transmit the positions of the second group, if that’s what it’s doing.” A moment later, Theren added, “Order Left Group to fire.”
They did so, and the Aegis cruisers and TIE Fighters quickly obliterated the small ship. Theren waited one, tense moment. Then, through the bridge, the wailing of sensor sirens blared, as more unidentified vessels surfaced on the scanners. “We’ve got one, two… four… six enemy Dreadnaughts, sir, and a litany of smaller craft.”
“Have the Crimson vessels in Left Group deploy all fighters!” Theren ordered. “And order them to engage at will. But do not allow Center or Right Groups to fire yet.” The one advantage of the wreckage of the Battle of Bastion was that, while it obscured enemies, it also obscured you from them.
On the tactical display and out the viewport, the Crimson Regime vessels poured out hundreds and hundreds of starfighters, which promptly began exchanging fire with the rebel craft. Most of the rebel ships were between Left and Center Groups; those which weren’t were on the left side of Left Group.
Laser blasts were exchanged both ways, red and green lighting up the viewport of the
Zenith. The crew onboard the vessel were silent, waiting; Theren could see uncertainty on some of their faces, signs of their desire to engage the enemy.
Suddenly, from the dead hulks of two Victory Star Destroyers, came an Imperial Star Destroyer – clearly, Theren thought, the senior vessel of the rebel fleet. “That’s it,” He said. “Order all of Center Group to move in and engage the enemy at close range. We have them flanked. Move Right Group into position, just outside the battle perimeter, just out of sight.”
With a great heave, the Imperial Star Destroyer drew itself forward, towards the battle quite a distance away. Slowly, they closed the gap. “All gunners, target enemy craft.” Theren ordered. Slowly, slowly, slowly…
Then, the ring-tone of sensors decrying that their vessels were in range of the enemy. “Deploy fighters and open fire! Have all Left Group fighters accompany our turbolaser barrage with proton torpedoes.” Suddenly, from the hull of the great craft beneath them, green light shot forth; the seven Dreadnaughts in front of them lit up with blue as their shields absorbed the assault of the
Zenith,
Vengeance, and other craft. One ship’s shields buckled, and laserfire poured into its hull; it detonated, another hulk to join the many which littered the system.
“Cut across to the left, and target that weakened Dreadnaught. Move to engage the Imperial Star Destroyer.” Quickly, the Dreadnaught in question gave way, as well, and they began to open fire on the Imperial Star Destroyer.
Theren smiled, and said, “Send the enemy commander my suggestion of complete surrender.”
A moment later, “Done, sir. The enemy refuses to acknowledge our hail.”
“Order Right Group to enter combat. Engage the Imperial Star Destroyer.” As those ships, too, began to enter the fray, Gevel added, “And re-issue my suggestion. Perhaps they will be more receptive, now.”
“Yes, sir. They’re accepting the hail, and replying.”
A hologram sprang forth over the tactical display. “This is Rear-Admiral Sinveth Xijak, of the New Republic.”
“The New Republic is dead, Admiral,” Theren replied. “I’d suggest you surrender now, and spare the lives of your men.”
“The New Republic will live in forever in the hearts and minds of those who still serve it.” The Admiral grunted. “But for now, you have won this battle.”
* * * * *
“Vice-Admiral Vikar is here to see you, sir.” Tornel said, sticking his head through the hydraulic doors to Theren’s office.
“He’s here?”
“He just flew in, yeah.” Tornel said. “Should I send him in?”
“Of course.”
The gray-haired, kindly looking Admiral stepped from behind Tornel, nodding to him in acknowledgement. Theren stood up in recognition of his superior’s rank. “Please, have a seat, Commodore. I do not wish to trouble you for long, but Command has sent me to get an appraisal of the situation.”
“Yes, sir, of course.” Theren said, taking a seat. “Well, as you’ve seen, we took the system. It was only a matter of a few hours. We encountered vessels claiming to be from the Crimson Rebels – Crimson Regime, they’re calling themselves, now – who were of great assistance. We – ”
“Yes, I read the report, Commodore.” Vikar said, waving a hand. “You don’t need to inform me of the details. That’s really not why I’m here.”
“Oh?”
“Theren, I must say, I’m sorry to have saddled you with this burden. It’s very early in your command, you’re understaffed, undersupplied, and I understand that. And I know that you lost a lot of good friends at Bastion. I hear that you have expressed some displeasure at being placed in this mission.”
“Have you, now.” Theren grunted. “Tornel has been flapping his mouth, I see,”
“Only out of concern, Commodore. I see,” Vikar pulled a rather large datapad from his pocket. “That you’ve been indulging in some interesting reading. The Bible. Imperial Command frowns on this sort of thing, you know.”
“Fu
ck,” Theren muttered. “I guess Tornel showed you this, too?”
“No, this I found entirely on my own. I have keys to every room on this vessel, you know.” Vikar smiled slightly. “I just did some digging. I’d suspected I might find something like this; your history certainly does present the possibility.”
“Yeah.”
“You faced quite a few difficulties on this mission, Commodore. You were somewhere between forced and pressured into actively fighting alongside an alien – possibly enemy – force, perhaps at the chagrin of the Regent. You were asked to take a system with one vessel, and a crew which barely trusts you. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, Commodore, I’d just like to ask you. You have witnessed quite a lot of rebellion in your time; from what happened to Dantooine to what happened with Tilaric Brel. Yet, you continued, and completed your mission – in a way I must say I find to be quite admirable. Why? Why not simply cop out, or rebel?”
Theren stared at the desk, for a moment, thinking. “One thing I’ve learned from reading that book, Admiral, is that in every creation story, the creation wishes to rebel. It’s instinctive, I guess. Cain, and a million other stories. It’s like that, with the Empire. The rebellion, Tilaric Brel, the others who have turned against the Emperor and Regent; they all turn against their creators. And I suppose you’re right; I was tempted to follow the examples set by them, because it makes you wonder how the Empire can be good, and right, if the things it spawns can become so twisted and evil.”
“Theodicy. So, why did you continue?”
Theren thought a moment more. “I kept telling Tornel that I felt like Job, Admiral. And I guess I did. But I didn’t feel as if turning against the Empire, or resigning, or protesting or refusing the assignment, was ever an option. In all of those stories, Admiral, one thing always turns out the same; no matter how angry the creations get, the God is still God. The Empire is still the Empire. I may be a rat in a cage, but no matter how much I throw myself against the bars, they won’t budge.” He looked up, staring at Vikar. He knew the resentment some in Imperial Command harbored for him; the Vice-Admiral could easily demote or dismiss him, after finding such old religious material.
The Vice-Admiral nodded knowingly, and smiled, the edges of his old, wise eyes crinkling. “That, Commodore Gevel, is the best answer you could have given me.” He nodded. “Good day, then. Hold Bastion for a few days, until you are given new orders.”
Theren looked up. “What about the Bible?”
“Ah, about that. I have been forced to confiscate it, by Imperial military law. However, you’ll find a datapad from my – ah, personal collection in your quarters, to replace it.” Vikar chuckled. “If you get my meaning.”
Later that day, Theren found in his quarters a datapad bearing a different copy of the Bible. He immediately flipped through the electronic pages, until he came to the second half of the book. In it, was a name he’d never seen before, replacing ‘Foretold Annointed’.
‘Christ’.
