The Unremitting and its lessers were docked in the orbital shipyards above Corellia. They were festooned with scaffolds, repair droids and labourers in sealed suits crawling across them like insects, going over the damage done at Crait. They moved in the shadows of the massive clawcranes which swung slowly over them, removing ruined cannons and setting new ones in place. Corellia turned out dozens of Star Destroyers a year, and Governor Mangat had seen to it personally that replacements were made available to Hux's fleet.
The divisions aboard were also taking delivery of new equipment, but their commanders did not deign to observe the process. That was what the overseers were for. Menials – and for that matter, the overseers too – were beneath the notice of a general. As for the disruption to the yards' schedule, Mangat would attend to that and be amply rewarded for his trouble.
Instead, Hux was in his stateroom with his supporters. Some attended in person, others were holograms. A holomap turned slowly above the table, showing the sector around Gorothad. The noise and vibrations of the work being done on the hull barely registered in here.
Hux had enough to occupy his attention in any case. At present, Commodore Kellum Adreyvan was busy trying to extend their layover. "Sir, if we are to have all our ships completely repaired, as is protocol, then it will take at least another two days."
"Two days we cannot spare for repairs we do not require." Hux steepled his fingers. "I set the extent of these repairs for good reason; the Unremitting is the only vessel we need at full combat-readiness. Further work can be carried out in the Gorothad system."
He nodded to Torqueda, who gave a satisfied smile. "Arrangements are in progress to secure the other ships you require. Moreover, the ground is prepared for the takeover on Gorothad and the other Throne Worlds."
"We can expect to be unopposed?" Stolan's tone made it quite clearly that this question only had one acceptable answer.
"Yes, by the time you reach us. I should advise you that Governor Nolten won't stand with us. But then again," he smiled viciously. "We do need at least a few individuals to make an example of, do we not?" A grim chuckle went around the table at that.
"And the rest?" Hux pressed.
Torqueda tipped his head just a little to one side. "Will fall in line readily enough. They'll understand that good service is rewarded, and we have plenty of ambitious officers who'll be glad of the new vacancies."
"Beyond the Throne Worlds," Hux mused, "the process will be longer, but we can take that at a leisurely pace. We will simply have to see who still has the nerve to resist after Ren is dead, and remove them."
"Which should give us good sport," General Parnadee said, with ample relish. "It might even drive some of them into the arms of the Resistance if they're desperate enough, and thus lead us to the rabble's bolt-holes. The purified First Order will scourge disorder from the Galaxy, once and for all."
"That said," Hux said, leaning forward. "While the present Supreme Leader draws breath, to speak of such things is distinctly premature." He gave Torqueda's hologram a piercing look.
The High Inquisitor met it with a confident expression. "All is in readiness. Ren's mania about the Jedi girl will provide all the distraction we need, and Hauma and the junior officers know their duty. Should they survive, they will have their just rewards."
Hux did feel a fleeting surge of disappointment at that. The hope of seeing Ren die had sustained him for two years, helping him endure the shame of serving his rival. Orbital bombardment wouldn't even leave a body. Now, on the cusp of victory, Hux couldn't suppress the sense that he had been cheated, just a little.
"And if they perish," Stolan smiled grimly, "they will be martyrs, and continue to be of use in that. Either way, with Ren dead there will be no one to unite our opponents."
"Then we are of one resolve," Hux concluded. "My fleet makes for Gorothad in three hours. You all know your duty."
Most of the holograms flickered out, and those officers who were present in the flesh filed out. The rest stood to depart but Hux lingered briefly, the light of holographic stars glittering in his eyes.
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At least no one was actually pointing a gun at them when they trooped down the ramp, Finn supposed. Their meek acceptance of their would-be hosts' terms on the way down seemed to be paying off in that regard.
Just like Poe said, they now had a better chance to examine the people they'd spent so long looking for. The grim Stormtrooper helmets were absent, and it looked like they'd clothed themselves with training fatigues and items from officers' wardrobes.
Come to think of it, not all of them held themselves like military personnel. Which made sense: the number of enlisted crew on a ship often approached or even exceeded that of the troops aboard. Finn guessed they wouldn't have had much incentive to side with their masters in a mutiny.
And there was definitely curiosity in a lot of the faces regarding them. Especially in the looks directed at Finn, regardless of whether they saw his saber or not.
"So," he said to Poe, keeping his voice quiet. "Do we wait for them to choose someone to do the talking?"
Poe nodded towards the TIE which had led them down to the surface. Its embarkation ladder had come sliding down from the access hatch at its rear. "I've got a pretty good idea of who that'll be."
A young women came clambering down the ladder, and made straight for them. She had light brown skin and an abundance of curly hair – the sort of hairstyle no Stormtrooper would ever have been permitted even if it could fit under the helmets. Not that she was wearing much of the old uniform anyway, except for a pilot's gloves and boots.
She didn't look as fierce as Finn had expected, but there was a wariness in her eyes as she regarded them all. The blaster in her right hand was held in a way that was meant to look cocksure, but after all his time with real gunslingers like Han, the Scrappers and Maz's band, Finn could tell it was an act. The trademark Stormtrooper rigidity was still very much there under the swagger.
Unsurprisingly, she was the one to break the silence. "I really thought you'd be taller."
"Well, I'll take that over being shot. And, uh, now I've got your attention, I don't go by FN-2187 any more. I'm Finn." He extended a hand. She shook it, once she'd holstered her blaster.
"JN-3753."
He'd wondered if they'd managed to break away from the numbers, but on some level it was still surprising to find out they hadn't, to say nothing of saddening. He could feel from his friends that they felt much the same.
JN-3753 hadn't finished, however. "So, you're looking to what, recruit us?"
"I was rather hoping to save you guys first." He raised his eyebrows. "You think we're the only ones looking for you? We've already had a fight with the First Order over the clues that brought us here."
Poe stepped forward. "Not that we're trying to call in a debt that none of you knew about. But you ought to know that your old masters haven't forgotten you. And we could do with your help." He paused. "So who do we need to talk to?"
"Me," JN responded. "Among others. The captain here, for one."
Finn followed her gesture to a young man in a black jacket – it took him a moment or so to realised that it had been an officer's uniform, though it clearly hadn't seen an iron for a very long time. He didn't look much older than anyone else here, though there was a short, scraggly beard on his face.
He made a beeline for Poe, though he stopped short of arm's reach. "JN argued for us to bring you here. Didn't realise just who'd find us - you're Dameron, the Resistance captain, aren't you?"
"Commander now, thanks. And you're the captain of-" he gestured vaguely in the direction of the grounded Destroyer, letting the question hang.
"By default."
"We killed the old one," JN put in tersely. "This is Arron Raith."
"So you're not a Stormtrooper," Finn addressed Arron. "You were an officer?"
"Lieutenant. Until my superiors died." Finn caught a glance from Poe which said they weren't going to query that just yet. Arron wasn't looking, addressing JN instead as he moved close to her. "We'll give them a tour. The others can meet us at the lookout and…" the rest was inaudible. JN eyed Finn and the others some more, but merely nodded.
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As tours went, this one was pretty subdued. Rose had expected them to draw the eye, but there was a character to the watchfulness, former troopers and former crew alike.
"I'd call this tranquil…" Kaydel said.
"But you know it's not," JN responded. She glanced up at the satellite dishes on a nearby roof, and one of the surface-to-air cannons which dotted the occupied part of the city.
"Everyone in this city's wired," Finn observed. "No wonder you were spoiling to fight us up there."
Poe was trying to keep things on track. "How many of you are there?
Arron replied. "Three thousand and two hundred Stormtroopers, give or take. Three times that number in crew, some of them under arms. Couple dozen officers." Rose saw the look on Finn's face – there ought to be three times that number of Stormtroopers on a fully crewed ship of that class. And many more crew.
The unpleasant question was beginning to take form in their minds: just what had happened in the mutiny? By some collective instinct, they left it unasked for the moment.
Instead, Rose queried: "And what shape's the Vehement in?"
"Pristine on the outside. There was plenty of internal damage, but we've had plenty of time to repair since we came out here. We even recycled some of the smashed vehicles." He pointed to a solar panel on a nearby roof. Seen close to, it had clearly been salvaged from a TIE Fighter.
The more they saw, the clearer it became to Rose that this wasn't really a settlement. It was all one huge camp, ready to be packed up at a moment's notice. Just how quickly and cleanly they could do that, she wasn't sure. JN and Arron elaborated on their living arrangements; plenty of people still bunked on the Vehement full-time, and more rotated on and off to make sure the ship was always ready to start up and depart.
At Poe's request, they ventured over to the gorge where the Destroyer lay. Seen close-up, it was more of a steep-sided valley, with a winding track which led down to the bottom and allowed for access to the Vehement. There was a ridge overlooking it, which at least gave them a good view.
"Venerer-class," Rose observed. "You lucked out there."
Arron simply nodded, and Rose kept peering curiously at the ship. As the resident engineer, she'd studied pretty much every First Order design in use, helping to keep Poe's crew ready for anything they might run into. But this was the first Venerer she'd seen up close.
The design was derived from the old Venator-class, deployed in the Clone Wars and early years of the Empire. It was smaller and more lightly armed than the likes of the Resurgence, but crucially, it was designed with terrestrial landings in mind. These ships were specifically conceived with solo operations in mind, and so that capability had been brought back.
They'd rigged up more solar panels and power feeds down there, many on the ship's hull. Enough to keep its systems ticking over on minimal power, Rose guessed.
Arron and his fellow officers ran a pretty tight ship, and did it well as far as she was any judge. For food, they had rations for a much bigger crew than they numbered now. Added to that were the ship's hydroponics stations, as well as hunting and foraging in the surrounding jungle. Beyond the city, there was a lot to eat on Omunak – pending a check for toxins.
"JN's lot, the troopers, are especially keen on that," Arron told them.
JN shrugged. "It keeps us in practice, and we get to feel useful. Hey," she added. "That's the rest of them now."
A few figures were coming up the trail from the valley floor. Like Arron, they all seemed to be dressed in the remains of officer uniforms. That was curious, Rose thought.
Poe had been quiet, but now he stirred, seeming to come to a decision. "We'll meet and greet, but Rey and Kaydel, I want you two back at the Falcon. I'm sure the Scrappers are sitting tight, but Maz could use an update."
Both the other women looked reluctant, but Rey glanced at Kaydel and they nodded. "We'll give them the good news."
JN pointed to a couple of ex-troopers. "58, A4, go with them." Then, to the remaining three, "Let's introduce you."