Opening Crawl:
The civil war is over. Against all odds, the Galactic Empire's hold on the known galaxy is but a recent memory, and a New Republic is on the rise. Very few remain loyal to the Empire, and those who do have been sent fleeing into the Unknown Regions, where they hope to heal from a stinging defeat.
But the Unknown Regions are a dangerous place, and previous efforts to colonize the area have been failures for reasons unknown to the Imperials who remain. Even getting to their rendezvous point, the Eclipse, has proven a challenge too great for many a fleeing survivor, as hyperspace routes remain a relatively uncharted gamble.
As Grand Admiral Rae Sloane and her crew approach the ship, they begin to shore up the limited resources they have when Sloane receives a disturbing report…
Chapter One
Slimming Odds
"Half our forces? Half of the Imperials sent to this point were lost in transit?" Rae Sloane shook her head, trying to keep the fury out of her voice. "How is this possible?"
"Different ships were lost to different causes, Grand Admiral. Some were captured by the New Republic, and went down fighting valiantly. Some plotted their hyperspace jumps incorrectly, and crashed into asteroids, planets, or stars. And still others…" the droid giving the report paused, searching its memory reserves. "Still others have been lost to causes unknown, but cannot be expected to make it onto this ship. We have waited too long for them already. I fear worse fates have befallen them."
Sloane took out her blaster and shot, sending the droid scorched and scampering. She may be angry, but she preferred rage to fear. She didn't want to accept the droid's report to be true.
The admiral, alongside Hux and his orphans, had arrived aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Dreadnought Eclipse roughly fifteen standard cycles ago. Though all ships that had received the transmission were expected to arrive within three cycles of each other, only the Imperialis and five others had. The total number of beings on the Eclipse numbered slightly less than a thousand, not including droids and including what was left of the original crew.
Of those who remained, Sloane quickly discovered that she outranked all of them, and had worked to establish her authority in the quickest way possible. Her success didn't make her nearly as happy as it should have. A third of the people weren't even soldiers, and some didn't know what they were doing here. What was the point of being in command if all one rules is a sandpile? Sloane had hoped more would show with the coming cycles, and had ordered everyone to give them as much time as they could possibly spare. But now, that time was running out.
The food provisions on the Eclipse were far greater than they had been on the Imperialis, especially nearing the end of their journey, but even they were not infinite. Nor were their fuel reserves, for that matter. The location of the rendezvous point had been chosen for its relative accessibility into the Unknown Regions from the rest of the galaxy, not necessarily for its proximity to vital resources. If the ship remained stationary for much longer, they would not have what they needed to make it to their intended destination.
It was time to make a choice. Four of the six ships, Sloane knew, had no way of making it. Their end was known. But even still: two ships remained unaccounted for. Two ships with a confirmed crew of at least a hundred each. With numbers so small, every person mattered.
But how long could she be expected to wait for them? Was she truly waiting for the final stragglers to arrive, or was there something more? Something deeper to her motivations?
When they left, Sloane knew, there would be no going back. Either the Empire was reborn in this motley crew, or they would never have the power needed to retake their homelands. The systems that were rightfully theirs. And despite millenia upon millenia of recorded history, knowledge of the Unknown Regions remained scarce at best. In part because it was hard to get to, but also because of the few who entered, even fewer were known to have come back.
And then there were those who had come from the Unknown Regions, such as Grand Admiral Thrawn. For all Sloane had heard of the once great grand admiral, his origins were seen as a dirty secret due to his species. So naturally, she knew very little about them. Only that he was of a species he called Chiss, and that his home planet was called Csilla, located on the border to the Unknown Regions. It was thanks to him the Empire knew anything at all about navigating the dangerous sector of space.
It would have been useful to have Thrawn here, Sloane thought. He knew more about what they were about to face than anyone in the Empire had. And his language… it had begun the process of being input into Imperial translator droids, but the process had not been finished. Only the most basic of phrases could be translated.
Sloane had little hope of ever seeing him again. All that was known of his current whereabouts was that he wasn't here. Sloane could only assume he had died or been captured, though the latter was unlikely.
"Grand Admiral," Hux entered her personal quarters without waiting for an invitation. "The time you have specified to wait is over. What is our next move?"
Was this all they were going to get? How was she supposed to build a new Empire with this?
"I want every advantage for when we enter the Unknown Regions proper. Our loss of crew members is most unfortunate, but we cannot continue to wait for them. Our odds are poor as things stand."
Hux snorted, a derisive sound. "Your thinking is limited. You think a small force of fighters and poor resources isn't enough to take over a galaxy? We just watched such an event come to pass. Or did you forget how we ended up here?"
"Are you implying that we should act like filthy rebels?" Sloane bristled at the implications, though she knew them to be true.
"I'm implying we should do what's effective. If the Empire is to be reborn, we need to let go of what was holding it back in the first place."
This wasn't the first time Hux had made such a claim. The principles were sound, but he used them to justify his army of orphaned children. Sloane knew the other crew members were as disgusted with the practice as she was, but she refused to let them be sent back or even killed. They knew too much, and the Empire needed every person they could get. No matter the circumstances.
And in spite of everything, Sloane knew that Hux was right. It was the time to seek the most effective course of action, regardless of precedent, procedure, or protocol. New battlefields called for new tactics.
"We must depart."
A curt nod. "I thought so. Do you want me to inform the pilot?"
"I will do it myself, Hux. Stay out of where you don't belong."
Both exited Sloane's quarters, then Sloane took off alone. She was careful to walk with purpose, though she felt her pace of her heart quickening. She ignored every acknowledgement that other people made of her as she crossed the ship to the cockpit.
The pilot of the Eclipse was an older man named Graven. True to his name, he was a haggard soul who spoke little and responded slowly to any command. He was one of the few who had been on the original crew of his ship. When asked what had happened to the rest, his response was never specific and his eyes were always haunted. They hadn't been out here very long, sent out shortly before the Emperor's death. What could have happened to cause so much loss of life?
He grunted when he noticed her presence. "Is it time?"
Sloane nodded. "I'm afraid we can wait no longer. Plot the course for our first destination."
"..." Graven didn't move.
"What are you waiting for? It's time to leave."
"...You sure this is the best place for us to be traveling to? These people know we're coming?"
Sloane didn't answer his question. "We can't remain here, pilot. Nor is there a place for us back in our homes. Our only path now… is forward. Towards our new destiny."
Graven sighed and began preparations. As he did so, Sloane reached over to the comm link, transmitting a message for all the crew to hear. She cleared her throat, then began the announcement.
"Members of the Galactic Empire. We have given our comrades all the time we can spare, and they have not arrived. For the sake of those of us who remain, we are beginning course for entry into the Unknown Regions proper. Our first destination will be Csilla, home of the Chiss.
"As we go forth, our path will remain uncertain. Despite that, I am sure of one, very important thing. No matter what we encounter in the Unknown Regions, we will thrive. These systems will submit to the Empire, and through them, we shall gain our power back. We have not abandoned our galaxy to disorder forever. One day, soon in the future, I am confident we will be strong enough to take it back from those who wish for anarchy and disunion. We will save them, even as they crumble in on themselves, just as the Old Republic once did. We will bring them legitimate rule, legitimate order, and legitimate peace.
"And today, as we take our first leap together into hyperspace, we will take our first step towards righting the wrongs we have suffered. This is our first step… towards the future!"
"We ready?" Graven asked after the comm link was turned off.
Sloane nodded, sharply and only once. "Begin the jump into hyperspace."
Graven pulled the lever, and the lights went black.
Armitage Hux had been listening to the grand admiral when the lights went out. He looked around, waiting a moment to see if they would come back on. They did not.
"What's going on?" One of his father's soldiers asked him, but his tone was so rude and informal that Armitage didn't honor it with a reply. He only silenced him, then left the room to search about the ship.
Outside, Armitage heard his father cursing and quickly ducked the other way. He had no interest in facing the man now, no matter what the grand admiral had promised him.
Still, he couldn't help but overhear: "...again?! What is causing these blackouts?"
"We can't be certain, sir, but the ships data is indicative of a radiation blast of some kind. It seems to be of a variety comparable to a planet's anti-spacecraft defense system, meant to shut a ship down temporarily so that it can be shot down by fighters. But there's something about it that's been odd…"
"Been? You mean it's been happening on this ship, too? Despite everything the Eclipse is equipped with to prevent it?"
"Yes, sir. But what makes it different from similar blasts is that both the intervals and direction of origin appear to random. Not to mention, nothing seems to happen after the ship is hit. If it really were a planet's defense system, or even something similar to act against intruders, one would expect forces to attack us while our system is inoperational."
"But nothing ever does," his father finished, a thoughtful tone to his voice.
Armitage imagined the other man nodding as he continued. "Instead, the power always comes back after a few minutes, and everything after that acts normal. Whatever this is, I don't think it's meant to be hitting us. Or if it is, whoever's sending it out may not know we're being effected. I don't think these systems are being operated by sentient beings. Maybe they were once, but not anymore."
Armitage didn't understand what they were talking about. Was the second man a mechanic of some kind? And what kind of radiation could make a ship stop working?
He didn't care what the adults said. This plan sucked. He didn't want to travel to the Unknown Regions. As far as he knew, there was nothing there but savage, untamed planets filled with strange, uncivilized beasts. When he had been born on Arkanis, people around him bragged that the Empire was the strongest, greatest power in the galaxy. How could all of that have disappeared? How were they supposed to get it back?
The more the boy knew, the less likely it all seemed. He felt like the odds of the Empire's revival were slimming with each passing cycle. And he knew he wasn't the only one, even if none of the adults respected him enough to admit it. The only people on the ship who listened to him were his father's soldiers, and even then he was secondary.
Armitage wanted to go home. He wanted to live with his mother again. If she was still alive, that is.
But most of all, he wanted to turn around. More than anything else in the galaxy.
A/N's: Hello, everyone! This is an idea I've been bouncing around for a while, and my chosen Camp NaNo project. It picks up almost exactly where Aftermath: Empire's End ends, and seeks to depict the rise of the First Order. While not my first SW fanfic ever, it is going to be my first long one, and I am strapped in for quite the long haul.
I'm relatively new to the fandom (only a few months of being a "serious" fan), so Wikipedia is my best friend on a lot of matters. I might take inspiration from Legends, but expect my stuff to follow canon as best I can. That said, don't be afraid to point it out if I get a detail wrong. As long as you're constructive about it, I won't be mad.
I'm working on a second chapter right now, so expect that to be up as early as tomorrow, or as late as next week. Thanks for reading, don't forget to review, and I'll see you on the far side!
UPDATE: This story has been on hiatus for a while, and is being reworked to suit a better long-term plan. This chapter hasn't changed much, but the four after it are being moved around to make three.