The Past…
The meeting was short but productive. The reconquest of the galaxy was a veritable nightmare of logistics… Vessels, different classes of vessels, captains, new commands, stormtroopers, special ops, air corps.. all these things made to fit neatly into the demanding schedule created from the mind of one Grand Marshall.
Grand Marshall.
The figure in his signature black unform, gloved hands behind his back, walked across the spit-polish catwalk of the Galactus’ command bridge musing at the title.
Before, the highest military rank of the Empire had been that of Grand Admiral. A naval ranking that superceded all ground commands.
And why not? Without the navy, where could the ground forces go?
Upon being promoted to General, Kaine found himself with vessels at his disposal. It was Grand Admiral Zell, really, that had turned a blind eye to Kaine’s unorthodox use of vessels in his designs. As a ground grunt, Kaine’s command could only grow so much. The approximate compliment a command vessel could carry.
By taking control the vessels themselves, Kaine’s command size and strength also grew. Military Command paid no real heed for there was one but one saving grace to eccentricities of command; and that was success.
The politicians, not knowing any better, had wanted to insist on making Simon Kaine a Grand Admiral, in the old tradition of Thrawn, Palleon, Zell and Hyfe.
Kaine, though, had politely refused the accolade which only led to an even greater rise of his popularity. Be ruthless, give an enemy no quarter, be even feared; but hint at being a resistor popularity and one becomes beloved.
Everyone likes the humble conqueror.
Simon smiled slightly at the thought as his experienced eyes took in the activities of the bridge crew.
But Simon cared little for humility as it related to popularity. In fact, Simon cared little for popularity for he had something more personally satisfying.
And that was purpose.
A purpose that could come to fruition by the limitations inherent with the office of a Grand Admiral. And yet, the people, the politicians desired for him to rise.
Without his rising, they would soon come to see him as resentful and a resentful Simon Kaine was not something many wished to contemplate. Simon mentally laughed at the foolish thoughts of the politicians.
Why is it that people assume that what they want, if in my place, would be exactly what I want?
And so a rank was created.
A rank as uniquely ambiguous as the person who held it.
The brilliance of it’s inception not lost to those closest to him. In fact, Ibren Chandler, now a Rear Admiral who flag was the Victory, summed up the brilliance in one stroke:
“What the hell is a Grand Marshall?”
Kaine’s usual stoic face broke into a grin that washed years away.
“That is the beauty of it Ibren. No one quite knows.”
“The name itself is disarmingly deceptive as it suggests you hold the highest ranking ground command, making you answerable to a Grand Marshall.”
“And yet?” Simon prodded.
“And yet, the Regent himself gave you powers well beyond that limited scope. Supreme Commander over all Imperial Armed Forces. Aside from the Regent, you are the highest ranking person in the Empire. Should the Regent be assassinated while sitting on his throne, the Empire would be yours.”
A hint of an approving smile played across Kaine’s lips. “The Regent will not be wasting away sitting on some throne. Daemon will be an active Regent. One who leads by example. Believe me, Ibren, the Regent will inspire the Empire to follow him.. and they will, gladly.”
“These are good days, Simon.”
“Indeed. The Republic is smashed. Commodore Trachta is proving himself admirably in the Corellian System.”
“He has a good man looking after him.”
“Yes,” agreed Kaine, a sudden warmth in his voice at the thought of his old friend Chau. “Let us not forget Desaria’s brilliant feint. Serndipal is his surely.”
“With Lebron’s extraordinary defense of Muunlist against the desperation of the small Republican faction led by some Admiral Drayson, there is no one left to oppose us openly.”
“Yes. Lebron drove him from Muunilist.” Kaine thought back to the images of the burning Arliss Towers. The attack had been personal. It was good that Jenice was on Coruscant at the time. His lips turned predatorial. It was even better for her since she could bill the government for repairs to the Towers. As I understand it, she’s not sparing any expense at their reconstruction.
Kaine’s thoughts turned back to Ibren. “But you hit a very specific point, Admiral. There is no one left to oppose us openly. Given our strength, open opposition is not what worries me. It is what goes on behind closed doors.”
“Surely, Isard is up to the task of intelligence.”
Kaine gave Chandler an inquisitive glance. “I wonder, Admiral. I truly wonder.”
*
The Present..
The engines of the Galactus were tiring. For weeks, Kaine had pushed his mighty warship to it’s limits. His men were tiring, the stress of their situation almost overpowering.
They had not heard from Imperial Center in months.
Hell, they had not heard from any Imperial, save their own fleet, for months.
“Sir?” came the 2nd shift Communications Officer.
“Yes, Petty Officer Grell?” Kaine said, although the man’s eyes already conveyed the message.
“The Invincible has hailed. They have the virus.”
The Grand Marshall’s eyes closed at the announcement. The Invincible was a Star Destroyer Class warship. And one that Kaine very much did not want to lose.
But he had no choice.
“All containment and quarantine procedures followed?” his voice was sharp and exacting.
The Petty Officer became nervous at the tone and his misery at message knew no bounds. “The Captain informed us that all procedures were followed. The contaminant was found in a packet of testing biomass in the ship’s infirmary.
“The product code tracked to where?” Kaine again fired the question.
The Petty Officer sunk his head and Simon knew the answer.
“Imperial Center.”
“Imperial Center.” Kaine whispered.
So fate decided to play with all that Kaine worked to win. The Marshall’s eyes burned at the impotence of his situation.
The remaining forces of the 256th that accompanied him were five days out of Asation. The entire world was quarantined, many already having died. With the breakdown of the holonet network, the Empire had no eyes and ears and panic had begun to set in. The fleet was in disarray but it wasn’t just localized within the Empire. No, this disease spread rapidly.
And so Kaine’s small force found itself traveling in unknown space.. to an unknown destination.
Seeing the anguish on the Petty Officer, Kaine managed a half-smile. “If anyone can hold Imperial Center from the Devil himself, it is our Regent.”
The man nodded though he seemed unmoved, “Yes sir.”
“You have a loved one on the Invincible?”
The man might have been stabbed with a blunt instrument for all the pain his face portrayed. He nodded and returned to his post.
An hour later, a bright explosion off to the port of Galactus flashed through the plexiglass windows of the bridge. The Invincible had done it’s last duty.
There was no cure.
No known cure.
Yet.
The Grand Marshall’s eyes seemed to penetrate the blackness to the bow of his warship.. as if he could see his intended goal.
Already, plans were being drawn in his mind as options and tactics were reviewed and discarded.
Solidify.
Fortify.
Identify.
Strike.
Given the situation that faced them, even if the ultimate prize of Endgame were lost, Endgame still had given him one advantage.
And that…. was knowledge.
Kaine’s eyes narrowed.
Csilla
