Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", Officer's Quarters.
Jed was still lying on his bunk. He had only piecemeal information about the situation, the images of the command post not being relayed on the general network. He had heard the bombing squadron departed, then time had passed and nothing filtered through.
"Bad sign", he thought.
He had experience in space battles, and when everything was going well, the crews were told almost in real time. The current silence did not bode well.
There he was, lost in thought, working out hypotheses, when the intercom crackled. He picked up the phone and recognized the voice of the squadron leader at the other end of the line.
"This is Sven Anbar. Are you still grounded?"
"Sure I am. What's happened?"
Sven gave him a brief summary of his mission. Jed said:
"Louchke is a guy who's always dangerous. Although I don't think he had anything to do with the shooting turbolaser. If that had been the case, you would have been shot from both sides at once"
"It's not untrue" admits the commander.
"What did the Admiral decide?"
"He considers that we must have hit the propulsion during the bombardment, because it slowed down considerably. We went full speed ahead to catch up with them"
"Why?"
"I don't know, sir. Maybe the Admiral's thinking of using a torpedo or a cannon to force them give it back"
"You ask me, he's daydreaming. If the turbolaser is really the crew's idea, they must be hell-bent for breaking Reps"
"Have you ever dealt with Louchké?"
"Yes, we bit his calves before arriving in Kuat. He managed to roll back his entire fleet in good order with even a few counter-offensives to spice it up. We pushed him, but it had nothing to do with a military walk"
One pause, then Jed resumes:
"Actually, do you know where his ship's squadrons have gone?"
"Yes, they went to attack Dvar. I don't know more, our local troops are on the move"
"Thanks for calling in the commander. I guess you must be pretty busy..."
"I've got to get to my bomber. She was wounded in the attack"
"Good, I won't delay you. Thank you again for your call"
He hung up.
Imperial destroyer Class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", second starboard main artery.
In the admiral's apartment, Isse had passed through all the states. At first curious, then intrigued, appalled, revolted and finally resigned.
"This plan is fully mad" he said to himself as he walked with great strides in the wide corridor crowded with troops, "but there's no alternative. All in all, I'd rather this than surrender or end up frozen in the wide dark"
He finally arrived in front of the airlock of a technical room that had been requisitioned by the Black Guard. The let him passes.
The room had been cleared and the middle had a large open space. The soldiers had stacked tables on the periphery for use as bunks, which given the average size of the Black Guard required that sleeping curled up like a gun dog.
"Where are the centurions?"
"They're at the usual. The supplies are disgusting, and they went to clear things up" replied a death trooper from under an upturned table.
Isse repressed a movement of irritation. That's the cream of the Empire! All they think about is eating!
"It's the fact that one fights better on a full stomach" he could not help adding, which brought down a little his irritation.
He sighed. "Well, I'll go get them"
He went out of the room, went back down the corridor in the opposite direction, took a side alley, and arrived at the dining hall. The room was crowded and there was a great deal of commotion. He elbowed his way closer to the centre where most of the commotion originated.
The spectacle itself was quite astonishing. The steward hung his head one metre above the floor, suspended by the ankle to arm's length by one of the centurions. The head cook, not exactly reassured, was trying to reason with the other five elite NCOs around him.
"You're told that for cooking, energy is rationed!"
"And that the rations are the same for everyone!" Bidding the steward upside down.
Isse said in a loud voice : "What's going on here?"
The six troopers turned their heads, recognized their leader, and immediately stood at attention, except the one that carried the steward. Isaiah commanded the rest, and spoke to the nearest centurion:
"I repeat: centurion Nouri Peters, what's going on?"
"General, the food is cold and foul. These rats are saving the best rations for the crewmates"
In space crews, where everyone lived together for months, one of the central themes of discussions was food, with its share of gossip and frustration. Even with his recruited staff in a hurry, the Destiny Blade was no exception.
Isse turned to the centurion who continued to hold the suspended steward:
"Repose him and salute"
Without a word, the NCO executed himself. Isse then turned to the steward who was recovering painfully standing:
"Give them what they want"
"Commander, that's impossible! -I can't! I must have a written order from the Admiral!"
Isse grabbed the space officer by the collar, brought him closer to his face and spoke to him of a very sweet voice:
"Listen to me, oyster face. In three hours this ship will be in the middle of a fight. And my boys in will be in the front row. If you want a chance to get on with your miserable life, you'd better serve them well. Is that understood?"
"Yes, General" stammered the steward, nodding frantically.
Isse then passed to the cook:
"Get your staff and get to work. For the cooking, you will do as they ask"
The chef looked at him stupidly. He repeated:
"Are you still there? Run behind your stove!"
The cook disappeared in a flash.
The circle had widened, the only people left in the middle of the room were the commander and the six "Death Trooper". The commander then addressed the six NCOs:
"You've got twenty minutes to get something to eat. Then I want you to go to the local, we have a lot of things to prepare. The rest of the troop will then go by groups of thirty every fifteen minutes"
He left the refectory and headed for the command post.
Republican flagship RSV115 "Emancipator", command bridge.
Admiral Rousseau had listened to the report of the Chief of Operations, which only confirmed what they had observed on the screens. He nevertheless learned that the losses had been very high, which did not surprise him.
"Is it the effect of the firing of their damn turbolasers?"
"Yes, Admiral. It scattered our formation and the bombardment. We would still have had some casualties, but not as many"
"Why did they do that?"
"They took a chance and fired on their command post. If the aiming isn't perfect, it could scuttle the ship. It's very dangerous, but it paid off"
Judd said, who had just infiltrated the conversation: "To do that, they must be really desperate"
The chief of operations looked at him like a fly in a glass of milk.
"In dire straits, they have been all along" he replied in a rather annoyed tone.
"They're still at reduced speed" the Admiral continued. "We'll soon be within range of a stellar torpedo. That should keep them in check"
"Torpedoes, Admiral? But I thought you wanted to capture that ship..."
"If those rabid rabble don't surrender, I'll scatter this tub! That nebula will be denser than it will be left!"
He turned to the transmission stations and asked:
"What's the status of our frigates? Have they finally found channels to take them from the rear?"
"They're still looking, Admiral. The "Alderaan's Spirit" is the most advanced, but its trajectory is pulling her away from our objective and she's already lost four space probes"
The Admiral made a gesture of impatience.
"They're going to have to activate! The last thing we want is they get away from us!"
Judd glanced around the command post from the bridge. Ever since the bombing, the mood had changed, now more focused, heavier too.
"Even the admiral is getting into it", he thinks to himself. He had twice offered him a drink or a small snack, and had been rebuffed each time under the ironic gaze of some technician, and more embarrassingly, of a few female operators.
"Torpedo range in one hour!" announced a voice calmly behind a screen.
"I can't wait for the end", Judd thought. "Let's finish this damn mission and go back to Kuat to resume our good little habits"
Republican base "Biem Hoa", headquarters, land battle of Dvar.
Jay and the other prisoners felt the slight warmth of the dull Dvar suns on their faces. Strangely, the base was still silent. This tickled Jay, who turned to his neighbor who was also emerging;
"It's always like that, Shi? The Reps are sleeping late?"
"Truth is, there are few night operations", answered the pilot."They are not equipped for that and the Fog doesn't make it any easier. There are only scorpions to dare to go, but they are not very many... For what I've seen since I've been here, it'll start to come alive in half an hour."
"Interesting that", Jay noted for herself. She resumed the conversation:
"What about the interrogations? "
"Depends on the operation. Usually it's in the afternoon, unless they consider you a case Interesting. Expect to be summoned first, it's not every day they get a senior officer on hand"
"You learned all this in three days?"
"No, Major. I've been talking to some guys who've been here about two months. There are no older prisoners, they regularly take them on the supply shuttles, probably to prevent of having too much to watch out for"
"Where are they taking them?"
"No one knows"
That's reassuring, Jay says to herself.
Bujac had just emerged from his cover. He looked at her without saying a word and she read the mute question on his face. She made a discreet sign of denial and he agreed as well.
The three prisoners got up and stretched. Other forms began to stir under their blankets. We saw the same sight around, like a hatching of new and clumsy insects. It struck Jay.
"Larvae, that's what we're becoming..."
She stiffened, took off the blanket she was wrapped in and folded it carefully. She had a little cold in her filthy denim, but she was certainly the highest ranking officer in this camp, and it forced her to not let go.
She also remembered that she hadn't washed for five days. She turned to Shi again:
"Is there any shower here?"
"Yes, once a week"
Jay almost choked.
"You've got to be kidding me, Sergeant!"
"Halas no, Major" But he continued with a smile: "Don't worry too much about that. The intelligence officer has a sensitive nostril, and they'll certainly give you a bit of a wash before questioning you."
They heard a slight hissing sound. A kettenspeed, small hybrid vehicle, half land speed, half tracked, appeared towing a trailer.
Shi exclaimed: "Here's the coffee!"
The prisoners moved in a mass to the gate. Jay stood motionless with his arms folded, gazing with a little disgusted look the herd clumped together to collect their daily food. Bujac, who was also stayed away and asked her:
"Aren't you hungry, Major?"
"Not right now"
A pause, then she said:
"This reminds me of my childhood. My mother always reminded us never to rush into a buffet no matter what it costs you"
"Where are you from?"
"From power, from Coruscant. A Very good family. We've given generations of high officials to the republic, then to the empire"
"Do you have brothers and sisters?"
"Yes, two brothers, the eldest and then a younger sister. Both have good careers, close to the first order"
"Only close?"
Jay replied with a smile: "Given the circumstances, you have to be discreet in your loyalty. The clan knows how to protect himself very well"
"What about your little sister?"
"She had a very nice wedding with another big family. I was only a lieutenant at the time, but I still made a little impression at the ceremony"
"What about you?"
"I never wanted to be like the other girls, get married and become a layer. At first it made my mother despair, but fortunately my sister reassured her a little"
"In short, you're like the black sheep of the siblings..."
"Yes, and considering the state of my face, it's not likely to get better!" concludes Jay, laughing.
Bujac looked towards the entrance. The crowd was beginning to thin out.
"We're going to have to go, Major. It'd be a shame to fast"
"Let's go since we have to. It's better to be in control during the interrogations"
They set off in no hurry.