Two hours later, Theren and Tornel sat at the same meeting booth, speaking in hushed tones. In front of Theren, pushed up to the glass so that he could read it, was the information he’d requested about the officers; a holopad, thoroughly inspected by stormtroopers, had been allowed through, and the Imperial officer flipped through the pages contained on it, also. “It says here that Veck was the son of a Tatooine farmer.” Theren said. “A poor boy. Must have had a lot of ability to make it in the Empire. And this other leader, the new one that Shyle sent down. The son of a Corellian. Not exactly one hundred percent Imperial stock.”
“You think Shyle is doing some sort of… cleansing, based on socio-economic status?” Tornel asked.
“That certainly would explain his haste to dispose of me. But, no, I don’t. Look, one of Veck’s men was the son of a very wealthy Muunilinstian. So that can’t be it, or else Shyle is killing off his own.”
Tornel nodded, thinking. “Shyle didn’t like Veck very much. I didn’t know the others, but those two butted heads a lot. You probably would’ve liked Veck. Real son of a bi
tch, like you.”
“Thanks.” Theren said, looking at Veck’s profile sheet one more time. He scanned down the description again; the man had been marked for promotion, but then suddenly informed that he wouldn’t be. “Look at that. He was on his way up, but someone stopped him. What’s that say to you?”
“That he’s got some sort of problem, personality-wise. Command didn’t like him personally, even though he had the goods professionally.” Tornel nodded. “Like someone else I know.”
“Right. And Shyle wanted to send me down, too, remember. There’s no way he didn’t know about those nomadic tribes – there’s just no way. That would be included in every briefing – after the ruse that got the Empire to Dantooine, and after it came under Imperial jurisdiction more recently, everyone knew about it.”
“Yeah.” Tornel said. He paused, staring at the reports. “So, what do you want to do?”
“What can we do? Take over this ship? Kill Shyle?” Theren shook his head. “Even if we managed to do it, we have no proof. We’d be killed be someone on the ship, and Shyle set free. And if we kill him, we might’ve killed an innocent man. If not, we’d be court marshaled and executed. There’s just no way.” Theren looked at Tornel as if to say, ‘Right?’
Tornel nodded slowly. “Then that’s it.”
“I guess so.”
He sighed. “Alright. But I just don’t know what’s going on, here. I’m afraid that when I do, it’ll be too late to stop it.” He started to stand, and sat down again. “Fu
ck, Gevel. How can this be happening? I’ve dedicated six years of my life to this guy. I’ve been nothing but loyal to the son of a bi
tch, and now he’s two-timing his subordinates, one way or another. Damnit.”
“I’m sorry, Tornel.” Theren stared down at the table.
Tornel nodded. “It’s alright. It’s no one’s fault. I’ll come to see you again, Gevel, before we hit Coruscant. I’ll probably have some free time when we stop off at the Cauldron Nebula.”
“Yeah.”
Tornel stood up.
And then Theren looked up. “Why the Cauldron Nebula?”
“I don’t know. Commodore Shyle said it was for personal reasons. If he’s pulling something, I doubt we’ll go there, but I think Shyle used it as an excuse to buy some extra time from high command.”
“The Cauldron Nebula doesn’t exist, Tornel. It’s been destroyed for years. Every star in it went supernova.”
Tornel stopped dead. “What?”
“He never said that? It’s gone. Why the fu
ck would Shyle want to go there – or why would he want to make up a story about going there?” Something didn’t ring true.
“I don’t know, Gevel.”
A moment more of silence. And then, it donned on Theren. “Sh
it. Of course, that’s what it is, of course.” He stood up. “You’ve got to get me out of here.
Now. We don’t have much time. Shyle is definitely screwing around, here.”
“How do you know that?”
Theren told him. Ten minutes later, he was out.
* * * * *
With every star in the Cauldron Nebula had gone Eol Sha, a small, backwater, volcanic world with a twin moon, whose orbit had been undergoing rapid decay. Fearing that the moons’ impact with the world would wipe out the meager population of the harsh world, fifty colonists had been relocated from Eol Sha to Dantooine.
And then, Admiral Daala’s AT-AT walkers had swooped down upon them, utterly wiping out every last one of them. In conjunction with Eol Sha’s destruction by the thousands of supernovas occurring in the Cauldron Nebula, that had accounted for the extinction of the vast majority of the residents of that world. It had been one of those stories that Theren had had to dig for; when he’d first inquired into the destruction of the Eol Shan colony on Dantooine, he’d been told to keep his questions to himself. But he’d found out the truth.
How Shyle was tied into this, Theren didn’t know. Perhaps he was a child of one of the colonists, or was of Eol Shan descent. Or maybe he was just part of some civil rights group acting in the posthumous defense of Eol Sha’s near-extinct people. He couldn’t be sure.
Tornel and Theren, having acquired shuttle passage to Theren’s old command, the
Zenith. The two paced its halls quietly, bearing the appearance of two men who were fully entitled to be there. Theren punched the passcode into a small console on one of the walls, opening the door to one of the many technician’s alcoves throughout the Dreadnaught cruiser. Inside the dimly lit room, an overweight man sat at a holoterminal, asleep. Theren smacked him on the back of the head.
“Wha – who? Theren – Captain Gevel? I thought Shyle had you thrown in the brig!”
“Well, you heard right, Tarrey.”
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” He started to reach for his commlink. “I’m sorry, Theren, but I can’t let a prisoner run loose all over this ship.”
“Don’t do that, Tarrey.”
“Why not?” The man asked, shaking slightly. “What the fu
ck is going on here, anyway? Give me a reason I shouldn’t turn you in.”
“I’ll give you twenty four.” With that, Theren took the stack of papers and datapads from Tornel, and threw down the hard-copy pictures of all of the men who’d died down on Dantooine. “They’re all dead. All of them. Because of Shyle.”
“What the hell?” Tarrey flipped through the pages. “
What the fuck is going on here?”
“I’ll tell you. Just, please, help me. I need a full medical history of Commodore Shyle. You’re the only slicer good enough to get it.”
“Why not a profile sheet?” Tornel asked.
“Because I guarantee you, what we’re looking for won’t be on there. He would’ve had it stricken from the record.”
Tarrey looked on, bewildered. “What the –”
“Just do it, Tarrey.” Theren said, glaring at him. “Look, I know the Empire keeps logs, and I know what happens if you get caught slicing into Shyle’s files. I know we don’t have proof for you. But you have to trust me: you just have to trust me. Trust that the lives of the men you’re going to be saving are more important than the risk of your career.”
Tarrey hesitated. “Alright.” He said. The slicing only took moments, and, with the report in front of them, their suspicions were verified; the medical report had listed his ancestry (which was important for understanding possible allergies to medical agents), and Eol Sha was listed.
Over the loudspeakers, a warning blared. “All hands, to battle stations. All hands, to battle stations.”
Tornel looked at Theren, eyes wide. “The Imperial taskforce. They were inbound to check in on the decontamination and reclamation process, today. Just a few ships.” He gulped. “I think we know what Shyle’s going to do.”
“I can sure as hell guess,” Theren said.
* * * * *
The two, Theren and Tornel, stormed onto the bridge. The
Zenith had turned about to face the inbound Imperial craft. Theren looked wildly about the bridge, each officer attentive to his task, ready to obey forthcoming combat orders, reading weapons. They were moving rapidly towards the ships – two Imperial Star Destroyers – and bringing themselves to bear into a combat formation with the other
Solemnity vessels.
“Stop!” Theren cried. “Stop moving now. Those are Imperial ships that you’re moving to attack!” A few officers turned to him, the rest continuing their tasks. The bridge commander, Biven Teem, turned to face him coldly.
“Mr. Gevel. You are supposed to be in the brig onboard the
Tenacity – and Officer Tornel. Ah. I… see.” His eyes narrowed. “Guards?”
“No, wait! What the fu
ck are you doing, Biven? Why are you attacking those ships? Check the transponder frequencies; they’ll read Imperial. Stand down your weapons
now.”
“I don’t take orders from decommissioned officers, Gevel. The Commodore has given us our orders. Get off of my bridge, now.”
Theren turned to Tornel, a cold feeling in his gut. The other officers onboard the vessel all went about their tasks, ignoring Theren’s pleas. The scene was absolutely chilling; like something out of a bad science fiction holodrama. No one onboard the vessel cared to recognize their kin; they were intent on following orders. “Well, I guess we know what Shyle was up to, all this time, and down there. He was crafting himself a cadre of perfect minions; mindless drones with no souls.” He smirked mirthlessly. “Congratulations, Teem. You’re a fuc
king hero. A real fu
cking hero.” No one said anything to break the stunned silence, so Theren continued. “Don’t you see what he’s done? He’s molded you into the perfect group of officers – willing to obey any command, no matter how corrupt, no matter how evil. You’ll do whatever he tells you. He says jump, you ask how high. And the ones he couldn’t turn, he sent right into the midst of Wrath-infected corpses down on Dantooine or threw into the brig.”
Theren knew he was taking a risk; he could already sense the stormtroopers who guarded the door training their rifles on him. But he didn’t care. The stunned silence spoke for itself: he was penetrating the brainwashing Shyle had worked hard to institute. “Teem, think for yourself. You don’t have to obey him. You know this is wrong, god damnit. Think, for fu
ck sake!”
Teem took a deep breath. “Even… even if we disobey him, there’s nothing we can do. We’ll be wiped out.”
“Maybe.” He took a step forward, and put his hand on Teem’s shoulder. “But you have to believe that what you’re doing is right. Let me take command.”
Teem hesitated, and nodded.
“Communications officer,” Theren said, switching into command mode instantly. “Broadcast a low-frequency, tight-beam transmission to the left of those two vessels. Inform them of the situation; inform them that we have it under control. Order them to leave immediately.” He turned about. “Engineering, speed us up. Put us in front of Shyle’s vessel, so that our ion trail obscures his ability to read our transmission.
“Yes, sir.” They chimed in.
“Inform me when we are sufficiently ahead of Shyle’s craft.”
A moment’s silence. Everyone on the bridge was tense in anticipation. At any time, their cover could be blown, the ruse revealed, and their fate sealed. “Now, sir.” The engineering officer said.
“Good. Wait for it…”
“Sir?” The communications officer said. “Shyle is sending us a communiqué, asking us why we’re speeding ahead.”
Theren nodded. “Good. Inform them that we have a slight engine malfunction, and triangulate the exact origin of the signal. The power generators on that Dreadnaught should be directly below the transmitter.”
“Done, sir.”
“Route the co-ordinates to weapons. Weapons command, target transmitter location with all ion cannons. We’ll rely on our ion trail and our report of damage to keep them from getting suspicious about the weapons activity.”
In front of them, the two Imperial Star Destroyers shuddered, and had begun to peel away. Feeling quickly, in just moments, they’d jumped to hyperspace. Suddenly, Commodore Shyle’s voice was blaring across the bridge, a forced communication. “What the hell just happened?” He exclaimed. “Those vessels were told we were moving for supplies. Which vessel activated weapons too soon!?”
Theren motioned calmly to the communications officer for his headset, which he promptly handed to him. “You thought you had it all planned out, didn’t you, Commodore?”
“Who the hell – Gevel!?”
“The revenge for the Eol Sha refugees, the retribution on the Empire. You just couldn’t return to Dantooine without getting yours. It was poetic irony. It was perfect. Your perfect cadre of officers, loyal to the death, willing to do anything for you. All this time spent in preparation. The murder of Veck’s squad, and the others. You had eliminated everyone who would oppose you, turned
Solemnity into your gun pointed at the head of a floundering Empire. You had covered up your history perfectly. No one knew.” You couldn't hide history. You couldn't cover it up. Even after all those years, after all that secrecy, the actions of one Admiral Daala had returned to haunt the Empire at last.
Shyle went for broke, his guise brought down, angry enough for honesty. “You bast
ard. You don’t know what you’ve done! Those vessels will inform the Empire – they’ll send more! They’ll investigate… my people! Gevel, I waited five years for this, five years for revenge for what that fu
cker Daala did to my people. I’ll get you for this. It isn’t over. It’s only just begun. You’re going to die, Gevel, and so is everyone on that traitor ship of yours.”
“I don’t think so.” Theren said. “Weapons, fire away.”
And with that, Commodore Shyle’s vessel was blasted by the
Zenith’s ion cannons, its power stripped away, the ship left to float listlessly in space. And the battle began.
* * * * *
“And from there,” Vice-Admiral Vikar said, looking up from the file, “You proceeded to systematically disable six other craft, killing only seven total crewmen. The rest surrendered.” The graying, personable man looked down at the report again, then back at Theren. They both knew Vikar had been over the file a million times.
“Yeah, that’s about right.” Theren shrugged. “You’ll notice the transcripts from Shyle’s personal files, there. He’d had this planned for a long time.”
“Yes, indeed.” Vikar said. He smiled slightly, wisely. “Well, Mr. Gevel, you certainly did well at Dantooine. Obviously, your expulsion from the Empire has been rescinded; you will be promoted.” He paused. “I do, however, have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you question Commodore Shyle so often? Obviously, your suspicions were well-founded, in this case. But what in god’s name caused you to be so defiant of him?”
Theren started to say ‘It just felt wrong to mince my words’, but stopped. He thought back, back on Coruscant. To the meeting with Sergeant Kelei. To her.
Her name was Alara. “Well, sir,” He began. And he told Vikar the whole story.
