Captain Tigan was pleased to have him back, but Agonizer no longer felt like home to Teren Rogriss. The Imperial II-class Star Destroyer had been his command since it had first launched from Kuat, just months after the Battle of Yavin. It had been more than a decade, and his Admiral's suite had been untouched in his absence, barring the personal effects he'd taken with him on his move to Chimaera.
The portrait of his wife. The one of his children. The one of Agonizer.
He sat behind his desk, nursing a drink and looking at those portraits, sitting on the floor of his suite, waiting to be returned to their proper places. Looking at the faces of his wife and children ought to bring him a sense of love, or hope, or peace, but all it brought was fear.
He'd betrayed the Empire. The New Republic knew he had. It was bad enough that he'd been willing to deal with the New Republic to fight Zsinj years before. Worse, in the eyes of the Moffs, that Grand Admiral Thrawn had been his patron. But if the Empire ever found out what he had done, if the New Republic ever decided it wanted him removed from his command, he'd just given his enemy all the ammunition it needed to see him dead. And if he died, tried for treason against the Empire, it wouldn't stop with him. Asori and Terek would be suspect at best. At worst…
He sipped his whiskey, knowing he couldn't afford to drink too much, and wishing for all the galaxy to just crawl inside the bottle.
All for what? His career, his children—he still had them, for now, but he had risked them for what? To help one New Republic officer and her crew? A woman he barely knew? A woman who had betrayed the Empire, taken up arms against it, sought to burn it and all it had accomplished down? Did he really think ISB wouldn't find out eventually?
What had he been thinking? Was his honor worth his family's lives? He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing Tabanne's face, recalling the devotion of her alien crew members, and the untarnished manners she'd displayed eating the flavorless nutrigruel at his impeccable table.
That helping her had been the right thing was small consolation.
There was no one to go to. Maybe, if Thrawn still lived, the Grand Admiral might have understood. He never would have given Disra those orders and Thrawn never would have followed them if he had received them. It was well known that Thrawn had refused even orders from the Emperor himself, and always been proven right.
But Thrawn was dead.
He took a slow, labored breath and sipped his whiskey again, considering the sidearm in the right-hand desk drawer, picturing its service-worn grip and trying to figure out what to do—
He froze, going completely rigid.
There was a man sitting in the corner of his office, hidden by shadow. How he'd gotten in here, Rogriss had no idea, but there were only so many ways it could be done and every one of them boded ill. He didn't reach for the blaster; being that obvious would only get him shot. Instead, he slowly put the whiskey glass down and swiveled his chair towards the hidden figure. "Are you here to kill me?" he asked.
Maybe, just maybe, he could bargain clemency for his children. They'd had nothing to do with his decision, nothing at all, surely the Empire would not be so unfair as to hold them responsible—
No. Who was he fooling? Of course it would.
His hand inched towards his desk drawer.
"I'm not," the voice came from the far corner, a dark Coruscanti accent, but not one of a native. An adopted accent, deliberately chosen, something not uncommon among the ranks of the Imperial Starfleet.
"How did you get in here?" Rogriss asked as calmly as he could manage.
"That's not important," the man said.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want to recruit you, Admiral Rogriss."
Rogriss blinked, his brow furrowing in surprise and confusion. "Recruit me? For what?"
Commander Asori Rogriss stared in confusion at her orders. "What do you mean I've been transferred?" she asked her CO, baffled. "I just got here. I've only been aboard Exigent for a month and a half."
Captain Nidal shrugged. "I have no more idea than you do, Commander. I got the orders less than an hour ago, and a shuttle arrived a half hour ago with high-level confirmation of their accuracy. I can't even pin down where the order originated from, but the command codes are genuine and from a very high-ranking source." Nidal looked genuinely apologetic. "The best I can tell you is this kind of thing doesn't happen if it's not a promotion."
"A promotion? To what?" Rogriss said, shaking her head. "I've got the position I want on the ship I want. Executive officer aboard an Impstar Deuce is the best posting an officer my rank can hope for. I've earned this."
She could hear the plaintive sound in her voice, and saw Nidal's sympathy. "I know, Commander. I'm not thrilled about this either. You've been an exemplary XO and I'm going to have to recruit a replacement, because I don't have a ready one. Either I'll have to annoy some other Captain by stealing one of his best young officers, or hope I can requisition a clone."
Rogriss winced. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
"It's all right. I don't know what this is about either, Commander, but as I say, this kind of thing doesn't happen if it's not a promotion. The secrecy tells me you've been selected for a classified assignment, and one above my clearance level. So, I'd take this as an incredible compliment and be excited to find out where you're going."
She sighed. "Yes, sir."
He nodded and stood, offering her his hand. "It's been an honor briefly serving with you, Commander Rogriss. Best of luck. I believe your belongings have already been packed away."
"Thank you, sir. Best of luck to you and Exigent, sir."
Asori was shuffled into the Lambda-class landing shuttle, given a perfunctory departure salute from the officers that could be assembled on the shortest of short notice, and found herself sitting alone in the shuttle's passenger compartment with her belongings, such as they were. She didn't have much. Her childhood home and most of her most prized possessions had been lost when the New Republic conquered Anaxes two years before, so basically everything she cared about she was already wearing on her chest.
Damn it, she'd fought for her posting on Exigent! It wasn't fair to transfer her without even warning her about it first. Sure, things had gotten difficult the last year, but the Imperial Starfleet was still a professional force, and she expected to be treated like one!
There was a jolt as the shuttle lurched into hyperspace. She unbuckled her belt, frowning, and walked to the front of the shuttle, banged on the door—
The door to the cockpit slid open. She stepped inside, planting both her fists on her hips. "Commander Asori Rogriss, reporting as ordered. I'm hoping that you can tell me where we're going and give me some information about my new assignment—"
Her voice stopped short as the man in the shuttle's co-pilot seat swiveled to face her.
He had blue skin and glowing red eyes.
"Commander Rogriss," he said. His uniform was typical Imperial, bearing the rank insignia of a Lieutenant. "Congratulations on your reassignment. Please, sit. It will be several days before we arrive at the staging area, but we will need every one of those days to complete your briefing."
She sat, staring at him. Once she had gotten past the moment of disbelief, and the two moments of confusion, she started to feel anticipation. And hope.
Author's Notes
And fin.
What comes next? Well, I've got a set of authors' notes, a letter I wrote about the story and the process when I finished drafting the novel, and another one by my co-author. I'll post them at some point? No real hurry. Then I'm working on a series of "missing moments" stories, mostly set between Chapters 33 and 34, about Han, Kam, and Mara's homecomings. I think I'll just attach them to this story rather than posting them independently. If you all have any other scenes you wish had been included, mention them in the review... no promises they'll get written, but you never know!
Specific responses to reviews:
• Guest: I'm really glad that the story worked so well for you. Ultimately, this is the novel that preteen Admiral Byzantium badly wanted to read after the original Thrawn Trilogy but never got. I wrote it for myself first and foremost, to have something to do during COVID lockdown, but that others appreciate it is so rewarding. Thanks for being a consistent reviewer! No promises on a sequel, and if one does come it won't be soon; Interregnum took about eight months to write and I didn't start posting it until it was two-thirds finished.
• Urazz: Yep, we've got an interesting mix. Kam remembers the old order... but only vaguely, and Ranik wasn't exactly typical. Mara's not about to join the order wholeheartedly—not yet anyway—so there's that to deal with. And then we have Kyp... a traumatized, abused child with immense Force potential.