The Future…
The shuttle disappeared under the shadow of the gargantuan vessel being towed out of space dock.
“Grapplers holding at tension threshold,” came the computerized automation center’s scanning report.
“Threshold max remaining constant,” came the inevitable human observation. “Power output within safety perimeters.”
His companion just whistled at the sight of the lines starting from the tugs leading back to the finally complete vessel. “There she is… finally! The Pride of the Empire. Kaine’s own flagship, Galactus!”
“Definitely a ship worthy of the visitor it is being graced with,” the former said. “Hull is still ionized… scans are being blocked.”
“That’s to be expected. I’ve heard these Reign SD-Class warships have a keel laid of many different ores, one of them specifically charged to deflect ion cannon shots.”
“No wonder we get nothing from our scans.” The other commented returning to his station. “If not for the comm traffic from the ship, we would never know if anyone was aboard her or not.”
The other, a portly man, laughed. “You’d better believe there is someone over there to receive Him. Or it’s..” and he made a gesture across his throat with his thumb.
“Too true. With all the victories the Empire has had and the news bits singing His praises no one will want to piss Him off.” The man opposite the portly fellow who had been staring out at the ship was, himself, rather skinny, though a competent enough officer of about thirty years of age named Hersch. “Did you hear that He may be made Emperor?”
“If by ‘He’ you are referring to our beloved Regent Hyfe, then aye. If you are referring to someone else, I’ll have to report you for treason.” The other began jokingly and then relented, “I heard something.” The portly man of about fifty years of age was named Jaero.
Jaero’s signal board lit up as he accepted the transmission from the flagship of the Empire. “Port Authorities, this is Galactus. We have Him.”
“Copy that, Galactus. Tracking the Grand Marshall’s shuttle enroute from Quarro District.”
There was a slight pause.
“Thanks for the heads up, Port Control.”
Jaero and Hersch grinned at each other. The return of the ship’s master must have the crew in quite a flurry. Kaine’s reputation for preparedness was second to none though the Grand Marshall did have a soft spot for the military men and women that served the Empire. Still, it was a soft spot no one felt encouraged to take advantage of.
“Their technical crews must be busting their humps. I track the Marshall’s shuttle arriving in about 20 minutes. Shuttle is closing outside the planet’s outer atmosphere.”
“Marshall’s punctual..” Hersch commented when a beeping warning light caught his attention. “What the hell?” he said as the grapplers broke free from the Galactus.
“Tugs have released it?” Jaero murmured while throwing a questioning glance at this partner. The Galactus was still several kilometers away from the refueling depot control station.
“Galactus? Is there a problem?” Jaero asked as he clicked open a channel to the flagship. His voice sounded controlled though an inflection of uncertainty crept in.
“Port Control, we are going to execute intermix startup from here.” Came an unemotional voice.
“Galactus, this .. this is highly irregular.” Hersch began, butting into Jaero’s conversation.
“What He wants.. He gets, Port Control.”
Jaero couldn’t argue with that little statement that suddenly changed the whole face of the situation. What would happen if something went wrong from the startup thus hindering the Regent’s victory sail across the Coruscant System in the Empire’s Flagship? Would his wrath be taken out on the crew? Would the Port Control operators that were supposed to prevent such occurances from happening be the victims? What would happen if they had ordered Galactus to stand down thus directly challenging the Regent’s order? All valid questions that ran through the operator’s mind in the few seconds it took for his partner to curse.
“Not a good position to be in..’ Hersch muttered under his breath as if reading Jaero’s mind.
“Port Control?”
Jaero sighed. “Understood, Galactus. Port Control out.”
Hersch turned back to his station and suddenly grinned. “Marshall Kaine’s shuttle has picked up speed.”
“If anyone can handle a situation, it’s him.” Jaero said resolutely and suddenly sat back content to simply watch the Galactus come to life on it’s own power. Typically, the dry docks were not equipped with engine sequencing startup equipment that a standard repair/starbase facilities. It was standard operating protocol to bring either newly enhanced engines or completely rebuilt engines online with the aid of a starbase facility.
The power output of the floating cities called Star Destroyers required delicate balancing. Still, the starships were not without their own resources and so, while a self startup sequence was outside the normal protocols, it was not out of the realm of possibility. The warship
could do it.
Another light drew Jaero’s eyes to a far panel. “Power bleeding… from the readings, it looks like a nominal buildup.”
“Damn hull… “ Hersch cursed, the ionizing effects still blocking his scans.
“Galactus is reporting normal system powerup.”
“Kaine, ETA 10 minutes.”
“Damn.. that’s a fine looking ship” Jaero murmured in admiration and began to stand up. “I’m thirsty.. Want anything?”
Hersch was still staring when he shook his head, turning slightly, his eyes still remaining on the flagship. “Not thirsty. How about some food?”
“Food?” Jaero chuckled to himself. “I’ll see what—“
The Control Tower’s lights suddenly turned a blue hue and a piercing red light drew their attention.
“What the-?“
And outside their viewports, set against the crystal beauty of Imperial Center and surrounded by passing support ships and patrolling TIEs..
..the Galactus exploded.
*
+ 10 minutes…
“Comm traffic is jammed!” Hersch shouted over the drum of launching work pods enroute to the shattered remains of Galactus. Not much of the hull had remained, though the pieces were large enough to greatly damage whatever they hit.
“Emergency channel, Military encryption..” Jaero started as he entered the codes drilled into him from constant training.
“Admiral Chandler on a priority..” came someone over the intrastation system. The entire Port Control Facility had been awakened to massive damage control initiatives.
“Accept..” Jaero said, sighing.
The firm voice of authority rang in his ears. “Report.”
“Galactus has been scattered all over the damned planet's orbital sphere.. “ Hersch nearly growled out in frustration sending the coordinates to reroute damaged transports out of the area. It was a monumental task as Imperial Center held the traffic of untold billions.
The Admiral’s voice softened somewhat. “Do we know the cause?”
“At this point no.” Jaero got out automatically. “Right now we are attempting to salvage what we can of damaged vessels. Several TIE fighters and bulk transports were fatally struck in the explosion.”
“The High Command has mobilized the Home Fleet, they will enter your area in less than two minutes..” the Admiral explained taking the situation in hand.
Jaero’s sensor board confirmed the larger warships of the Empire were closing on their location. “Thank you Admiral, their tractor beams will be most useful.”
“Send over your visual and sensor logs as soon as you can.” Chandler ordered in response, his attention seemingly directed elsewhere.
“Sir..” Hersch began slowly.
The Admiral turned his eyes to the Control Officer.
“The.. There was someone aboard…”
“I know.” was all the Admiral said.
“I don’t think..” Hersch tried to clarify.
“I know…” Chandler repeated. “Any location on the Marshall’s shuttle?”
Hersch turned white. “No.. No sir. No one has reported their sensors picking it up.” He felt shame at having forgotten about the Marshall in lieu of the Regent being dead center on a ship that exploded.
Admiral Chandler nodded. “As of this moment, Imperial Center is under Martial Law. All government agencies are suspended until the cause has been identified and the threat.. (if any) dealt with.”
“If any?”
Chandler grimaced slightly. “It could have been an accident.”
Hersch nodded when the proximity beacons detected the first of the Fleet to arrive on the scene.
“You’ll have our logs shortly, Admiral.” Jaero said.
“Comm from the Tyrant.” Hersch said as another sensor board began ‘speaking’ to him.
“Captain..” Jaero began but Hersch overrode him shouting, “GRAVIMETRIC WAVE INCOMING!”
“Wha?” Jaero turned as the Captain of the Tyrant shouted for shields.
Five seconds later the wave hit as systems all over the Control Tower shorted out leaving Hersch and Jaero in a dark room staring out at the debris.
*
+ 2 hours…
“What have we got, Quinn?” Admiral Chandler started without preamble
“Hell of a mess, Sir.” Captain Quinn responded, holding a data pad in his hand. At least that is what the hologram looked like it was doing.
“Preliminary readings of the debris indicate late discharge of a gravity well generator.”
“Damn.” Admiral whispered harshly. “Damn.. damn… damn. We don’t need this.. Not now.”
“Bastion Conclave?”
“Falling to hell, Captain.”
“Figured as much. Our orders placed us on stand-by.”
“It’s going to boil over and boil over soon.”
“Sir!” came a shout drawing the Admiral’s attention. Captain Quinn waited patiently as the older officer was drawn off.
He came back less than a minute later with a grin on his face.
“The Marshall’s shuttle has been located! Rally everything.. sending you the location.”
“We’ll be on site in a few. Quinn out!”
*
+ 8 hours…
“Well, I’ll be damned.” The engineer looking over a detailed scan of two pieces of debris remarked in wonder.
“What?”
“Send for the Admiral. I know what happened.” Was all he said and the Damage Control Teams suddenly were a flurry of self important activity each wanting to remain at hand to hear the latest.
The Admiral walked briskly into the large hanger bay littered with pieces of the Galactus and people milling around, sifting for answers.
“How’s the Marshall, Sir?” the Engineer asked first.
“Stabilized for now. Bacta treatment should last the rest of the night.” Chandler’s eyes narrowed. “When he wakes, he is going to demand answers. What have you got?”
“Well, sir, as you know, scans of the Galactus were nil because of the ionized hull plating. It still needed to time to discharge. What we do know is that the intermix engine startup was ordered and that the rate of damage from deck to deck indicates that the explosion did occur in engineering and not anywhere near armory stores.”
“But how?”
“That’s the tricky part, Sir. I can tell you what happened, but I cannot tell you how. You see these readings in these pieces? They show that the engines overloaded reaching the first critical mass stage of the restart.”
“But the first stage of restart has the most safeguards! Doesn't it? These safeguards are automatically powered when the intermix comes online.” Chandler shot back.
“Yes sir. I know my business.” The Engineer said not unkindly. “They were knocked offline by a short gravimetric wave burst from the gravity well generators.”
“But,” the Admiral frowned, “the gravity well generators cannot be powered until the engine matrix has fully charged and balanced.”
“Aye. They run on two separate systems and are powered differently. I can only tell you what happened, but I cannot tell you how.”
“I can.” Another older engineer said, walking up.
“What have you got?” Chandler and the other engineer nearly barked out at the same time.
“Only the possibility of how the grav generators could come online during an engine startup.” He looked up intently at the Admiral. “However, Sir, it would require this..” And he began to show them on his technical schematic.
The Admiral understood. “To do that would mean it was intentional.”
“Aye, Sir. It would.”
Admiral Chandler’s eyes glanced to a nearby pile of debris noting the blackened visor of a once red Imperial Guard uniform. The Regent had fancied surrounding himself with the entrapments of office that even Palpatine enjoyed.
How could that be done on the flagship especially with a force sensitive like Daemon Hyfe aboard? Why didn’t he suspect the danger? Did he suspect the danger?
All good questions.
“Sir. There’s an incoming communiqué from the Conclave. Eyes only.” A Comm Officer came up whispering into the Admiral’s ear.
“Thank you. Gentlemen, you’ve given me a great deal to think about.” Dismissing the Engineers.
“Give our regards to the Marshall when he gets out.” One said.
“I will.” Chandler said sincerely.
He mulled over the findings of the engineers while he made his way to his quarters. When he was alone, he called up the transmission entering his encryption sequence.
The screen brightened as the communiqué revealed itself.
After several minutes, he sat back into his chair, his eyes staring off into the distance.
“Oh… @#%$..”
*
When mapping events along a historical arc that endures the passage of time, what historians invariably do is find one particular experience and use that as a starting point. The circumstances surrounding the launch of the RSD Galactus could be classified as such.
It was an arc marked by a singular event. From that event emerged a great many points of divergence from the previously known (likely) result derived from probability data.
Divergences such as changes in cultural identity have their beginnings marked by experiences (sometimes tragic) that spread their effects over subsequent generations.
Unfortunately, many of the conclusions reached by historians are the result of their own misguided interpretations drawn from contemporary experiences. That, coupled with that undeniable axiom of history: that history can only be read, recorded, and interpreted by what historian’s ‘see’, do much to pull down the tapestry of truth, woven over by interpretation, theories, and half-ass guesses. The axiom is the one invincible truth that overshadows everything a historian says and does. For all their archeology, for all their artifacts, for all their buried scrolls unearthed, their conclusions can only be drawn by what they see or, more accurately, what others have seen in their ancient lifetime.
In this, one main ingredient is missing. This one singular important piece of information, depending on what that information yields, can either paint a historical picture as black as night or as white a snow.
That singular piece of information?
Motive.
How can historians draw conclusions based on the events that resulted from the Event, if they don’t even know
why the event occurred?
Or, again more accurately, how can historians draw conclusions if what they did know from the secular accounts taken from those who were there at the time…. If what they
thought they knew…
..was wrong?
How accurate can history be if it was drafted in secret?
How accurate can history be if the only truth derived from the experiences such as the Event is the “what” but not the “why” or “how”?
All in all, history
is correct about one thing…..that events in time are linked.
Even if those links are invisible to those living at the time and remain invisible to posterity for all times to come.
Were the circumstances surrounding the launch of the Galactus .. linked to something else?
Though a certain few people may have held pieces of the puzzle, no one certainly knew all.
For there was a dark side of Truth.
A side someone used with the skill of an artist painting a masterpiece.
This dark side?
That Truth was subjective.
To find the original canvas of this masterpiece, one has but to move backwards from this future event, past the present unrest on Utropollus Major and into that haze that was the life of Simon Kaine.
If not all of the strokes were of his own making, then he knew enough to use what was there to create a piece of astonishingly simple appearance and yet deadly depth.
For (at least)
this part of the tale had it’s beginnings on Coruscant more than 30 years prior…
