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On approach to Confederate Center, Earth, Sol System
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"Excuse me, Admiral; but what do you mean she's not coming?" General Crisis was dumbfounded. "Did our vaunted Supreme Leader give a reason why?"
Admiral Jethran pulled his spare cloak from the shuttle's closet and snapped it into place across his shoulders. "She couldn't be bothered with the President's invitation for an emergency conference. Said she had important business back on Titan. Something about worlds within worlds or something along those lines."
"What do you suppose she means by that?" Crisis probed.
"If I had to guess it has something to do with the Emperor's cargo we retrieved from Wayland." Jethran revealed. "She's sequestered all of it in her chambers on Titan and only she and that Terran apprentice of hers has seen it since. You never know what to expect with these mystics. It was the same with Kylo Ren and Snoke's sorcerer ways."
"I guess we have no one but ourselves to blame for placing a ghoul like her at the top of our chain-of-command." Crisis huffed.
"It's only temporary one way or another."
"One way or another? I thought we meant to supplant her position only once we secured Nal Kuat." Crisis was momentarily confused. He had learned that the brilliant Admiral that led the 7th Fleet of Conquest for the revived Emperor had plans within plans when dealing with his enemies and allies alike.
"She's supplanting herself. When was the last time she asked about any military matter? Management of the Fleet and the 23rd Legion are completely under our purview already, General. No, I speak of her own plans." Jethran alluded.
"You speak of her insistent demand that we return to the Emperor on Exegol? Impossible." Crisis wanted to swear at the absurdity.
"Perhaps, perhaps not." Jethran shrugged. "No one ever said our trip here to the Milky Way from Home was through a one-way door. But what would happen if we did find a way back into Palpatine's direct service. . ."
"I continue to serve Palpatine. It's why I fight the fools in the 2nd Galactic Empire."
"Of course, but what if we do find ourselves kneeling before him again, unlikely as that may be? You think he would favor a Knight of Ren who took on the mantle of Supreme Leader? I suspect a Death Mark awaits our dear Vala if we ever find our way back." Jethran explained.
"I can't imagine I will lose any sleep over that, Admiral. But then why did Palpatine suffer Kylo Ren?" Crisis asked.
"I believe Kylo was a special case. It's no secret who his mother and uncle were. And we only learned in the last few years who his grandfather was. That alone would bind him to the true Emperor. Vala is nothing more than a mudscupper to His Majesty."
Crisis bowed his head in thought. "If we ever did make it back to the Home Galaxy I certainly hope the Emperor wouldn't learn of our role in Vala's ascension to the top job."
Jethran shrugged, unconcerned. "These mystics are obsessed with power. I imagine the Emperor would be more surprised if she hadn't seized the reigns. I doubt he'd look too deeply into the matter after dispatching her. It's all academic. We are unlikely to find a means of returning to the Home Galaxy, even if it may be theoretically possible. Let our current Supreme Leader waste her time in study. Her isolation feeds her growing irrelevance, and will make it all the easier to supplant her when our plans are brought to fruition."
"It won't be that easy." Crisis warned. "She's proven her usefulness here in the Milky Way. If it hadn't been for her commando raid against the Martian Planetary shield this whole war would have been stillborn." Crisis noted. His anger still simmered over the wastefulness of expending his own commandos on a pointless attempt on the false Empress's life.
"The Supreme Leader and her apprentice also provide a useful counter to the Jedi. Except as part of the Empire's refugee evacuation mission our allies have yet to bump into those wizards. I fear we will need a Knight of Ren when they decide to go on the offensive." Jethran admitted.
"Bah, nothing one of my All Terrain MegaCaliber Sixes couldn't handle." Crisis confided with no small amount of pride. But, then again, he had yet to face a Jedi.
"That's what General Hux believed at Crait and now eleven of those walkers rust away on that world's salty surface. We do not have the numbers under our command to make the same mistake." Jethran warned.
"I'm perfectly content letting the Confederacy bleed both themselves and the Empire, while we rebuild our strength after Kazoook."
"As am I, but we can't afford to sit on the sidelines for too long. We've already committed ourselves to supporting Akfar's spring offensive from Kafrene Outpost." Jethran said.
"The fools here on Earth don't even realize we will walk away with the biggest prize of the war; the KDY Driveyard at Nal Kuat. Under our control, the civilian support system there will make us unstoppable. A rival to both the Confederacy and the Empire." Crisis was almost salivating underneath his golden helmet.
"Very good, General. Eye on the prize. We've only transferred a meager seven thousand Terrans to Titan so far and it will be months before their indoctrination and retraining takes a firm hold. We need to be expanding our support base much faster. In order to do so, we must play both Harris's and Vala's games a little longer."
"I serve the First Order and Emperor Palpatine. Nothing else matters." Crisis vowed.
"Indeed. Just remember not to be so attached to any one plan, General. Everything remains in motion." Jethran walked to the viewport of the Upsilon command shuttle and gazed down at the passing Midwest plains of Earth. The suburbs of Confederate Center had begun to come into view. "Would you look at that?"
"Admiral?" Crisis stepped to the viewport and peered down upon the Earth. Below the shuttle lay the new InterGalactic Landing Port, built over the old site of the Denver International Airport, with its hundreds of modern landing bays built for the planned thousands of Earth spacers that would one day be traveling from Confederate Center to its colonies along the pilfered Bloodstripe Run. As far as Crisis was aware the Confederacy hadn't gotten around to building any civilian spacecraft yet and what they did have was either property of their meager Trade Federation or their military's Space Force. One of the larger terminals was caved in from what appeared to be bomb damage. It smoldered from an extinguished fire, which by the presence of meandering emergency crews and their landspeeders around the site, testified that the fire had only recently been put out. Running east and west were several small craters where more bombs had fallen away from their intended target. All in all, pretty superficial damage for a city of almost ten million Earthlings.
"Nice to see the war pay a visit to the Confederates. Reminds them that it's not all fun and games." Jethran said.
"My Comm Officers say this raid is all Harris and his cronies have been talking about for the past rotation. Squawking like a bunch of brainless Gamorreans." Crisis replied. "They're acting like they've never seen war before. Didn't the 2nd Empire rub their faces in it two decades ago?"
"A good point. Several areas of this world were even exposed to limited Base Delta Zeroes. But if they are upset over this pin prick, then perhaps there may be a way to manipulate it to our advantage."
"Nal Kuat, sir?" Crisis enquired as to the Admiral's intentions. It was important that the Legion and the Fleet were of one mind. After all it wasn't just the Empire they had to contend with, but with both President Harris and Supreme Leader Vala Ren's increasing mutual schizophrenia as well.
"It would provide the penultimate stable base for us. Especially once the Confederacy is done devouring the Empire. They will be exhausted and vulnerable to a strike from behind. The Kuati System is ideally placed at the midway point of the Orion Spur of the Bloodstripe Run."
"The thirst for revenge against the Empire blinds these Earthlings." Crisis said as the Upsilon came in for its landing.
"They are a ripening fruit dangling from a tree. Either we pluck them when they are ready or wait until they rot and fall. Either way, the First Order is the most technologically advanced force in the Milky Way, and will crush whatever remains of either the Confederacy or the Empire."
"I know this may seem to go against popular opinion amongst your captains, but I'd almost prefer the 2nd Empire to win the conflict. There is a familiarity there, at least. We may not have any use for non–human aliens but this non-Earthling speciesism the Confederacy has ingrained in its elites is almost stifling." Crisis remarked.
"Yes, it is disturbing to see the Terran officers on Admiral Akfar's command staff eye me with hate and distrust due to the happenstance of my birth planet. Scum like that doesn't deserve the Galaxy." Jethran concluded.
The Upsilon touched down with a slight thump. The Electroprod Stormtroopers who provided their escort immediately started filing out of the shuttle craft.
"Let us save this discussion on our hosts' uninspired reasoning until we are safely back on Titan. For now, we must concentrate on the needs of the First Order and managing our ally's desires for the 7th Fleet." Jethran warned. He straightened his cloak one last time. The teal color of the cloak set off the white of his naval uniform quite well. In the center of the cloak was the Hosnian Diamond emblem, marking Jethran as one of the command staff that had been on Starkiller Base for Hux's declaration of war. Very few officers who had been witness to the First Order's annihilation of Hosnian Prime were still alive a few days afterwards.
Crisis shifted his golden armor plates until he was comfortable and then walked side by side with the Admiral down the Upsilon's boarding ramp. A combined show of unity for the Legion and Navy.
They were greeted at the bottom of the ramp by another esteemed visitor to Earth. Admiral Akfar stood with several of his own officers at the end of the Electroprod Stormtroopers' double column. He looked disheveled, as if he had slept in his own uniform, as did his own men. Crisis noticed the Confederate Admiral's Sheathipede shuttle was cooling down on the landing pad next to their own. Another design gifted to the Confederacy from the First Order to bring them up to par with the Empire. Crisis knew the Confederate hyperdrives were still not up to snuff with the First Order's or their adversaries and estimated that it must have taken Akfar nearly eight days to travel back from Kafrene Outpost for this conference. The 7th Fleet could make the same trip in a rotation and a half, he arrogantly mused to himself.
The two Admirals and Crisis exchanged salutes. Akfar smiled at the two visitors. "Once more into the fray."
"I'm afraid Confederate Center is a battlefield in which you hold the most familiarity, Admiral." Jethran told his Confederate counterpart.
"I would say so. I fought in these halls for twenty years after the last war. I was set to retire, figuring we wouldn't tackle the Empire for another century. That was until you boys arrived on the scene and gave us such wonderful toys."
"It was our pleasure." Crisis told the Earthling, knowing full well that the gear they had taught the Earthlings to build was scrapped and destroyed by the 2nd Empire's predecessors after the Clone Wars. What the Earth lacked in quality they were certainly striving to make up with quantity.
"If you had told me two years ago, we'd have new allies from your Home Galaxy and that I'd have overrun half the Empire in five months I would have never believed you." Akfar said which caused his entourage to gleefully chuckle. Perhaps they were imagining what the rest of the year would bring. Their spring offensive, which they had dubbed Operation Matchstick, looked promising enough. Especially since it would hand the First Order the Kuati System as a prize.
"But at what price, Admiral?" Jethran sniffed the air. "Is that sulfur I detect?"
Crisis smelled it as well. The pungent odor had taken longer to pierce his helmet's filtration system. Akfar frowned. "A near daily occurrence here in the capital these days. Enormous strip mines up in the mountains. They give us Confederate-grade durasteel, or they did. Damn things ran dry pretty quick but we're looking for more sources from what I understand."
"The industrial damage to your homeworld must be substantial." Jethran offered.
"Not compared to what the Empire did to us twenty years ago. Besides, with environmental restraints we would have taken another fifty years to build the fleet we have now and there was no way the Empire wasn't going to detect them before we were ready. After the war, the upper classes will be relocated to the colony worlds and then some of the Confederacy's problems will solve themselves naturally."
Crisis resisted the urge to laugh at President Harris's grand plan for the Confederacy after the war. The Confederacy was welcome to spread itself thin along the Empire's chain of colony worlds. It would make it all the easier for the First Order to scoop them up at a later date. The First Order would finally make all Earthlings equal to one another; as slaves.
Eager to turn the topic away from Earth's obvious issues, the Admiral continued. "Is your Supreme Leader not joining this conference?"
"Supreme Leader Ren is still recovering from injuries she incurred at Mars." Jethran lied. Vala Ren had long since healed nicely with a healthy submersion in the fleet's dwindling supply of bacta. Crisis believed that outside of killing Imperials and teaching her apprentice, little about the Earth truly interested the Knight of Ren.
Crisis made sly eye contact with Jethran. "The Supreme Leader has granted plenipotentiary powers over strategy and tactics for the upcoming campaign. We have supreme command of the First Order at this juncture. That authority will be respected by our allies."
Jethran peered towards the city nestled in the Rocky Mountain foothills. "I am surprised, Admiral. I would have thought the Confederacy would be in a more celebratory mood. What with the cessation of Imperial resistance on Mars with the surrender of Imperial forces atop Olympus Mons. A long-sought promise by your President, wasn't it?"
"A long time coming, is what you mean." Akfar shrugged. "We may have nailed the naval battle to isolate Mars but we certainly didn't stick the landing. Five months too long with twenty thousand dead on that fucking volcano."
"You destroyed an Imperial Legion. No small feat. And according to our intelligence you've smashed a second one, the 501st, to dust all along the Bloodstripe." Jethran congratulated his counterpart in an attempt to lift his ally's spirits.
"Our intelligence has come to the same result. We figure they've only got the 41st Legion left." Akfar reported.
Crisis's skin crawled under his armor. He remembered the two Legions the First Order had lost at Kazoook when they had attacked the hybrid Wookiee-Earthling colony without a plan. "They're no doubt training more. We uncovered transmissions that they've shortened their training programs on Hsskhor."
"How long does it usually take to train one of their Stormtroopers?" Akfar asked.
"Two years, give or take. If they cut out all the indoctrination and field specialization training, they could get it down to a year. Maybe less." Crisis explained.
"So, we can expect new Imperial reinforcements by this fall, I'm guessing. Another reason we need to light off Matchstick sooner rather than later." Akfar said. They were being led to a large chopter that would usher them to the Presidential mansion. Akfar's officers and Crisis's Stormtroopers fell in behind the trio.
"We couldn't agree more. How are your fuel issues?" Jethran asked as they entered the chopter.
"Better now. We had to battle the Trade Federation over this damn convoy idea of theirs. We don't have the fuel for transports and escorts. Especially now that we are bringing forward 2nd Fleet from New Ryloth to Kafrene Outpost to take part in Matchstick. They're coming with four of our Legions too. Not our second-tier Army divisions."
"I'm positive they'll be put to good use." Crisis stated. He had read the reports of Confederate legions taking planet after planet coreward down the Bloodstripe. They had only been halted when their Space Force had finally run out of fuel. The plan had been to capture Imperial stores but Akfar's insistence on capturing every bit of Imperial territory he could lay his hands on had given the enemy time to evacuate large portions of its population and scorch dozens of worlds' worth of supplies in their wake.
"I'm eager to see your 23rd Legion in action finally." Akfar took his seat across from the two First Order officers. "The last time I saw Stormtroopers on the advance was when they had taken Los Angeles."
"They're ready. We will need their experience to take the driveyards at Nal Kuat." Crisis assured him as the chopter lifted off. The noise from the machine was nearly deafening and Akfar and Jethran both had to don protective ear coverings. The rest of the short flight was spent in contemplative silence.
As the chopter settled down atop a grassy lawn in back of the mansion, Crisis braced himself for another meeting with President Harris. Akfar was a professional officer and carried himself much like a First Order officer would have without much patience for pomp and circumstance. The Earthling's great leader was an eopie of a different color, a politician. One who sat atop a giant pyramid of lickspittle lackeys all trying to climb a system of castes the President himself had built. All in order to serve some sworn promise of vengeance against the 2nd Galactic Empire.
While General Crisis approved of the Confederacy's desire to regiment and organize their society to better oppose their enemies, he could not fully embrace the Confederate caste system due to the decadence of the 1st Class, which the Presidential mansion, the poorly named Earth House, seemed to embody. The First Order High Command had been known to eschew the luxuries which had rotted the Old Republic and the 1st Galactic Empire to their cores.
The last time Crisis had been here was three weeks after the attack on Nal Kuat. It had taken nearly all of that time for the Assaulter to weave itself back through the Almuhit Maelstrom and return to the First Order's new base at Titan. Besides dispatching several hundred advisors to assist the CEN the First Order had largely cloistered themselves on their new outpost and awaited the long-anticipated signal that the Imperial Navy had finally come out to fight.
Admiral Akfar never had the opportunity to send such a signal. Crisis wondered what kind of Imperials occupied this new Galaxy, for his Imperial ancestors had never been cowards. Even when they had fled into the Unknown Regions after Jakku.
The doors of the chopter were opened by two blue-uniformed Confederate Marines who saluted the high-ranking commanders. There were no bands or media photographers waiting to greet them. The last time there had been scores of senators and other elites waiting to congratulate the Nal Kuat raiders. This time there was but a single woman.
The President's Chief of Staff, Jen Erso, was an officious piffer of an advisor. Crisis thought of her as being far too cold and imperious for an up-jumped assistant. As the President's chief gatekeeper, she was rather effective at controlling access to the most powerful man on Earth. Harris was only seen by 1st Class elites, and then, only the ones he needed to see to further his own aims. And as he always claimed, the President's goals were the CEN's goals.
"I'm afraid he's in quite a mood." Erso warned the assembled officers as she gave them a disdainful glance.
"It's good to see you too, Jen." Akfar reprimanded the bureaucrat. Crisis got the distinct feeling that Akfar turned his nose up at the President's assistant as much as she did at them. "Does he know we've arrived to brief him on Matchstick?"
"Yes, of course, Admiral. He's just been rather busy dealing with what happened yesterday." Erso explained.
"Mars's capitulation? The long-standing dream of Earth, even before the foundation of the Confederacy of Earth Nations." Akfar suggested.
"Don't be an ass, Admiral. I'm talking about the raid here on Earth. The Empire really kicked a hornet's nest with their attack." Erso turned and held her arm out towards the nearest entrance, signaling for the party to follow her.
"It's my understanding that the attack inflicted minimal damage upon Earth." Admiral Jethran interjected.
"Oh, it's nothing compared to what they did to us twenty years ago. I wish people would realize that." Erso stated as members of the Secret Service held the doors to the mansion open for the visitors. "We lose more people in skirmishes with New Mandalore every week."
"How badly were you hit?" Crisis asked.
"Sixty separate targets spread out across the globe. Mostly factories and warehouses. Though they did hit our new driveyards in Tokyo and New York. Damaged two Revenges in the New York attack. As far as we can tell we shot down five of them, with two more possible, as they appeared damaged as they flew away. They blew the three that attacked the Space Force Headquarters at Sydney out of the sky before they could drop their bombs." Erso reported as they walked through the halls of the Earth House, their footsteps echoing through the massive corridors.
"We've got good anti-air defenses all around that place. It was stupid of them to attack it without escorts. Have we gotten any prisoners?" Akfar asked.
"No, three were captured in Kenya and executed out of hand by Mombasa police before an irate mob could get a hold of them. We've arrested a thousand 3rd classers as reprisals for defying the authorities, but I can't say I really blame the lower classes. All of Earth is pretty pissed about the raid. And then there was that fucking broadcast . . ." Erso cast her swear with a lowered tone and Crisis wasn't sure he caught what the woman had said.
He was about to inquire about the broadcast the woman had spoken of, as he hadn't heard anything about it, when they arrived at the Earth House's Situation Room. President Harris could be heard inside conferring with several previously arrived Confederate officers and staff.
The President was leaning over a large map of the outer Sol System. The digital rendering was displayed on a large holographic touchscreen table. Several officers and advisors were present. Some of them looked familiar but Confederate officers were a credit a dozen to Crisis. There was an exception of course, the bright middle-aged man who stood to the President's right pointing out a point of interest somewhere out in the rimward Oort Cloud. Crisis had met the Deputy Security Advisor before and always felt like an insect on a dissection plate in front of him. His name was Spiz, pronounced rather ironically as 'spies' for someone who worked in Intelligence.
President Harris looked up at the three newcomers with a sneer. "Where were you?"
"Mr. President. My transport only just arrived from Kafrene Outpost. Which, if you must know, is quite a considerable distance from Earth."
"Titan isn't as far." The President looked accusingly at Jethran and Crisis.
"Indeed, it is not. We are on time for our scheduled conference on Matchstick, are we not?" Jethran asked. Crisis had to admit he was confused by the President's ire as well. Shouldn't they be celebrating that Mars finally fell? So far it had been the biggest prize to fall into Confederate hands.
"We will get to Matchstick. I'm talking about yesterday. The Empire launched an outrageous attack here on Earth. I had promised very publicly that Imperial phasers wouldn't touch the Earth this time around. The war hasn't even been going on for six months and we lost how many on the homefront?" Harris turned slightly to the Deputy Security Advisor.
"Two hundred and thirty-seven, by the most recent count, sir." Spiz filled in the President's memory.
"Nearly three hundred people dead. Our entire air defense network was asleep at the switch. And Space Force had nine ships at Luna while the attack was going on, as well as one of your Star Destroyers, the, um . . ."
"Security, Mr. President." Spiz again added.
"Yes, the Security. They must have felt pretty secured watching sixty enemy bombers slip by unchallenged." Harris accused.
"We are not responsible for any part of Earth's defense. I dare say if the Security had acted it might have been misconstrued as a hostile act by your own forces in such close proximity to Earth." Jethran explained.
"The Air and Space Force Commanders who were responsible for such areas have been sacked. They will lose class status and be drummed out of the military for their mistakes." Akfar reported.
"Perhaps one or two of them should face harsher penalties." Harris suggested, sending an icy chill through the room. Crisis himself was taken aback by the chill he felt slither down his spine at the President's recommendation. He hadn't felt anything like it since the last time he had been in Snoke's presence. "It will serve as encouragement to your other officers, Admiral."
"It's already been handled, but I think I am in agreement with Admiral Jethran. The 7th Fleet should have no part in the defense of Sol. Space Force has our 2nd Fleet at New Ryloth. That's close enough to prevent a major incursion. It directly blocks us from the rest of the Bloodstripe Run."
"Does it? The Deputy Advisor was just trying to explain to me how they bypassed 2nd Fleet." He cocked his head at the two First Order officers, "And your vaunted 7th Fleet of Conquest, which has done nothing but take up curbside parking in my solar system for half a year."
Spiz waved his hand over the hologram, enlarging the image from a vast swath of space. A new image of two large vessels replaced the first one. Crisis felt the blood drain from his cheeks as he recognized the vessels that had escaped from Kazoook two years prior. He said a silent prayer of thanks to the Emperor that his features were obscured by his helmet, for surely the look of growing shock on his face would have given them away. The two vessels were escorted by what appeared to be three Arquitens light cruisers. Jethran spoke for them both. What he said sounded more like a curse than an answer. "Lucrehulks."
"Lucy-whats?" The President asked.
"We never saw anything like their kind during the last conflict and we've uncovered nothing about them on the planets we captured." Spiz said. Jethran sent an icy stare towards Crisis warning him to keep his mouth shut. "The first we knew of them was this picture sent by the Voyager 1 probe that came in at the same time of the attack. Took us hours to render it because the Voyager monitoring station was destroyed twenty years ago. We didn't even think the old Voyagers had any juice left in them. We sent a Revenge out to the area afterwards but they had long cleared out. Left nothing but the wrecked Voyager probe in their wake."
"It's a warship from the era of the Clone Wars. Ironically, a vessel of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. So, the Empire would have had the design. It also explains their use of StarFortresses in their raid. Slow, ugly schuttas that have no place on the modern battlefield. They also can't fit inside a Star Destroyer, at least not the Imperial classes the Empire currently fields. Maybe their Ares, but they wouldn't risk her on such an insignificant attack." Jethran explained.
"Without escorts another attack like this against a prepared and ready defense would be suicidal." Crisis added.
"Do you believe they'll try this again?" Erso asked.
"No. This was a one-time assault. They were trying to make a point." Jethran concluded.
"The CIA has come to the same assumption. No reason to lower our guard but we are doubling our sensors sweeps and reassigning more X-1 squadrons to the defense of our solar system." Spiz reported.
"We're dancing around the main issue here." The President snapped at his advisor. The older man turned toward Jethran and pointed an accusing finger at the admiral's chest. "Tell me, Admiral, does the name Priscilla Mayhew mean anything to you?"
"I'm afraid you have me at a loss, Mr. President." Jethran answered truthfully, his face expressionless in contrast with Crisis's growing sense of unease.
"Then let me fill you in." Harris said coldly. "During the raid some Imperial bombardier calling herself Priscilla Mayhew managed to hijack the Confederate Broadcasting System. Before our techs were able to jam her transmission, she claimed that she was Terran. A Terran from one of our lost colonies. She claims that our colonists and their alien friends, the 'Wookiees', were attacked by the First Order. You claimed when we first met that our colonies were destroyed by Imperial mercenaries. We went to war on that premise, and now that premise appears rather suspect. Explain yourselves."
"She's lying. The Empire is on the edge of collapse and will say anything to divide our alliance." Crisis said quickly. Jethran didn't look at the General, but Crisis could hear the nerf leather of the Admiral's gloves crinkle as he balled his hands into a fist. He was clearly disgruntled at the General's refusal to remain quiet. But the situation was extremely fragile and required immediate action. Their alliance was built on the Confederate belief that the Empire had attacked and destroyed the Earth colonies at New Gaia and Kazoook. If the Confederates found out the truth it would destroy everything the First Order had set out to achieve since their arrival in the Milky Way.
"I took the liberty of double checking the archives over at the Ministry of Improvement prior to this meeting." Spiz interrupted, peering over the rims of his spectacles at the General. "Our records confirm the presence of aerospace engineers Joseph and Eliza Mayhew aboard the Enterprise II. We know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they took part in the colonization program to the Sagittarius Arm. They are likely the parents this Priscilla referred to in her message."
Admirla Akfar took a step away from the First Order officers. "The Empire would never have known the last names of any of our colonists. They could only have learned that name from one of them directly."
"That does lend some weight to this woman's assertion." Erso said as she glanced suspiciously at Jethran and Crisis.
"It does nothing of the sort." Crisis asserted sharply. The General wracked his brains to develop a counterargument. Crisis thought back to his training. When dealing with outsiders and their beliefs, it had been drilled into his head that the goal of the First Order was to inject reasonable doubt, to take unpleasant facts and modify them into something more consistent with the doctrine the First Order espoused. That alone would allow their cause to succeed.
"The 2nd Galactic Empire is not above torture, is it Deputy Advisor?" Crisis finally asked.
"It is a known tool in their bag of tricks." Spiz conceded.
"Then isn't it obvious what really happened?" Crisis asked rhetorically. "We thought that the Empire had massacred the colonists, but it seems they must have taken a few prisoners. Tortured them. Broke them. Or perhaps she turned traitor."
Crisis looked to the Admiral to gauge his reaction. Jethran was as stoic as ever, but he seemed to be more at ease than he had been a moment before. Taking silence as approval, Crisis continued.
"This girl, Priscilla, was clearly compelled to make a false statement. Perhaps the Empire is holding her parents as hostages and using them to gain her cooperation." The General turned from Spiz to the President. "Is that not what they attempted to do to you during the last war, Mr. President? I'm told they captured your wife and younglings in a vain attempt to force you to cooperate. Just because such a trick didn't work on you doesn't mean it would not work on someone weaker willed." Crisis felt his own sense of pride swell as the tension drained from the room. He could see that Harris was still angry, but Crisis knew that the old Earthling's doubts about the First Order had been diminished.
"Perhaps...such a turn of events is possible." The President admitted.
Crisis saw Jethran's eyes widen in surprise. The Admiral couldn't seem to believe their luck. Crisis however was less surprised. The President despised the Empire as much as a trooper of the First Order hated the Resistance and the decrepit New Republic that had backed it. He knew that the Confederacy and the First Order needed each other to successfully conquer the false Empire. He'd let nothing stand in the way of retribution if he could help it. It was a sentiment that Crisis was happy to take complete advantage of.
The President glanced down at the digital reader and tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. The room fell quiet as the President appeared to process his options.
Finally, he spoke. "Admiral Akfar, when this meeting is concluded I want you to put the word out to Director Maxwell at the CIA. If we ever get our hands on this Mayhew girl, I want her dead."
"Sir!" Erso interjected, drawing a scowl from Akfar. "If General Crisis's, uh, hypothesis..." She shot Crisis another glare. She clearly wasn't as willing to accept Crisis's explanation as her leader. "...is accurate, then this young woman could have been tortured."
"So?" The President demanded. "She's still cooperated with the enemy, regardless of whether she was coerced or a willing collaborator. Better an Earthling should die than to work with the Empire. They've done more damage with that broadcast than they could ever hope to do with a bombing raid."
"We've had no problems from the 3rd or 4th classes, Mr. President." Erso argued.
"Not yet." The President countered. "But revolution has a habit of sneaking up on you. No doubt the Underground is already trying to figure out a way to use this to their advantage. I won't leave it to chance. The people have to know that no one defies the Confederacy and gets away with it. My way is the only way."
"If that's settled, can we move on to our briefing about Matchstick?" Akfar asked. Harris shrugged after glaring once more at the images of the Lucrehulks. The President's wrath had been sated, for now. But he wasn't over this. Not by a long shot.
"Admiral, if you would like to go over the initial deployments." Akfar asked Jethran.
"Thank you, Admiral." Jethran said, clearly happy for the change in subject. "7th Fleet will be departing within the week to join your 1st Fleet at Kafrene Outpost. Your 2nd Fleet will join us there. They are carrying five of your Legions and two Airborne Divisions from your Army. I will send in several of my Resurgents along with the bulk of Admiral Akfar's 1st Fleet, finally resupplied and refueled at Kafrene Outpost. We shall attempt to draw out the Imperial Navy into a decisive battle where the remainder of my capital ships, primarily the Fatalizer and the Mizery, will swoop in and crush them. Once the Imperial Navy has been dispatched, your forces will land on New Thyfeeria, the gateway to the Kuati Spur. Once secured, my fleet will move in and seize Nal Kuat and the surrounding worlds in its proximity with General Crisis's 23rd Legion."
Harris stood silently. His attention had not been pried away to the list of ships Jethran and Akfar had presented. Instead Erso, after several seconds of silence from the commander-in-chief, spoke in his stead. "What can we expect in this area of the Empire, Mr. Spiz?"
Spiz pointed to the digital display of the Bloodstripe Run. By now both the First Order and the CEN had adopted the nomenclature as their own. "For Matchstick we assigned a target designation for every Imperial world yet to be subdued by our combined forces." The worlds beyond Kafrene Outpost all lit up on the display and showed new alternative designations. "Each of them is coded with the name of an ancient city, with the final one, Palpatine Prime, being coded as Target Rome for encryption purposes."
"That will confuse them if they research any of the names. All those cities have been involved in multiple wars and have been conquered time and time again." Akfar added.
"Matchstick will focus on this triangle here." Spiz indicated an area of space just beyond Kafrene Outpost. The Bloodstripe split off into two distinct directions from there. One running up the Kuati Spur and surrounded by the Almuhit Maelstrom and the other, wider and more stable route leading to the coreward bulk of the Empire and ending at Palpatine Prime. "New Thyfeeria or Target Alexandria as we call it, has a retrograde orbit with the opening to the Almuhit allowing it to stay relatively close to the entrance at all times. We suspect that several brigades of the Empire's 41st Legion as well as a Legion of Vratix Drone Warriors under Moff Tanax awaits us there. Past New Thyfeeria is the main berth of the Imperial Navy. I have four Cyber Divisions constantly monitoring the HoloNet, and we've finally confirmed that not only is the Ares present at Target Jerusalem, or Nal Kuat, but so are the Flood, Slash and the Quill. The last three major warships in the Imperial Navy. Our attack on Alexandria will certainly draw them out into pitched battle where we can destroy them. Afterwards there will be little left in the Empire to halt our final victory."
"If the Imperial Navy is up this Kuati Spur, why not blockade Alexandria and attack this other world on the triangle?" Erso asked as she pointed towards another world. Crisis had to lean forward to read the name of the planet. He was sure he had heard of the place in other reports but it was so insignificant he had forgotten it.
"That is Anax, or Target Carthage by the new coding system. Seizing it would do little for us as there are several accessible hyper lanes around it, allowing the Imperial Navy to slip past if they wanted to. We'd have to go much further down the Bloodstripe to cut it off from the Kuati Spur. Perhaps as far as Judicar or Shilios." Akfar explained.
Erso looked to her silent President and then back at the map. "Is there anything on Anax that can hurt us?"
"It's a simple colony world. There is a highly active coronal mass ejection event underway in that system, but that can be avoided. The colonists appear to be retired Stormtroopers from the last war turned lumberjacks. They had some problem there with a type of tree that grew too fast and nearly overran the entire planet ten years ago, but they seem to have gotten it under control. Other than being a major supplier of lumber and furniture Carthage doesn't appear to have much strategic value. The Empire hasn't even bothered to reinforce the place. Strange, since unlike Alexandria on one point of the triangle, Carthage is within range of Confederate bombers and fighters from Kafrene Outpost." Spiz reported.
"Probably because Kafrene is out of range from their TIEs from the place." Akfar suggested.
"What kind of tree over grows an entire planet in ten years?" Erso wondered a noncritical point, which had nothing to do with the upcoming battle.
"Something called a wroshyr tree. I'm not very familiar with them but I heard they can grow up to three or four kilometers tall."
Crisis seethed at the reference to the plant life native to Kashyyyk and to Kazoook. Kazoook, the Wookiees, and their colonial human allies had caused him and First Order enough headaches for a dozen lifetimes. They had cost the First Order two of its three legions in the Milky Way and had very nearly cost them their alliance with the Confederacy. If he never heard of anything related to the Wookiees ever again he'd die a contented man.
The President appeared to be of a similar mood, for he exhaled loudly and pounded his fist onto the table to gain the attention of the assembled officers and staff.
"That's all well and good, but we will not be able to enact Operation Matchstick successfully if we have to worry about being stabbed in the back by those bastards down in New Zealand." The President locked eyes with Crisis. "Your Supreme Leader's been playing hard to get with me on this for months, but no more. We need to deal with the clones and the Kiwis, and we need to do it together."
"Until now they've fallen into your purview, so we've paid them little attention." Crisis admitted. Though he was certain Jethran had already concocted multiple battle plans if the New Mandalorians became a problem. Apparently, to their Confederate allies, they already had.
"Well, it's about time you started. How many times have we attacked them since the war started?" Harris asked his officers.
"Two major assaults with Space Force vessels and weekly bombing raids by the Air Force and Missile Command. Casualties have not been . . . light." Spiz admitted.
"You created this mess, Admiral, General. Its time you cleaned it up." Harris glared at them.
"What do you mean?" Jethran asked.
"New Mandalore has based its defense around five shields of a new type that we have been unable to penetrate with our weapons. If you brought in your heavier ships, they could pound those shields down so that my Legions can swarm over whatever survives of those Kiwi traitors and the Imperial bomber crews that sought refuge there." Harris explained.
"We could do that. Perhaps once Matchstick is completed." Jethran offered.
"Out of the question. Now that Mars has fallen it is no longer acceptable to have enemies to our rear. You have two weeks to bring those shields down."
"The Fatalizer and the Mizery are both needed at Kafrene Outpost for Matchstick." Admiral Akfar objected.
"I could spare a pair of Resurgents and the Security is still at Luna. However, those ships would necessarily be unavailable for Matchstick's opening engagements." Jethran conceded.
"That is acceptable. Matchstick can be pushed back one week if necessary." Harris replied. Crisis noted that the Admiral looked as if he had bitten into a particularly rotten meiloorun fruit. To split the 7th Fleet in such a manner after keeping it together so long must have been a bitter concession for Jethran to make. Crisis too felt it unwise to divide the First Order's attention.
The President must have noted their displeasure, for he spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Oh, don't look at me like that, fellas. Like I just took away your favorite toy. What can I do to make the alliance happy once again? If I know Supreme Leader Ren, she sent you here to get something out of me. I can horse trade all day, boys." Harris suddenly came to life at the idea of New Mandalore's fall. A politician's nexu-like smile spread across his features.
"Alexandria and Jerusalem." Jethran said. "The First Order wants all of the Kuati Spur."
"But, sir. New Thyfeeria has the Galaxy's entire supply of bacta . . ." Erso started to interrupt until the president glared her back into silence.
"You'll be well situated dead center of my Confederate Hyper-Route 1 once I conquer it. I can do it if you intend to vacate Titan after the war and give it back to us. The Sol System will once again belong to Earth alone." Harris declared. Crisis wondered what that meant for the aliens living on occupied Mars.
"Done." Jethran readily agreed. Crisis figured the naval officer would never be a great sabacc player. Perhaps they should have held out for more.
"Beautiful. Simply beautiful." Harris laughed in anticipation. "By this time next month, both of our enemies will be nothing more than dust in the solar winds."
"There can be no doubt." Crisis agreed.
"Now, keep telling me about the details of Matchstick." Harris put a hand on both Jethran and Crisis's shoulders. "Because, General, if there is one thing I've learned it is that death is in the details."
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Nal Kessel, Heavy Ore Mining and Penal Facility
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"Prison." The agent mumbled to himself.
The strong scent of Skywalker and other spices filled the air as the prisoners dug deeper into the planet's lithosphere, a hot, dense and semi-solid region of Nal Kessel's upper mantle. The rules of the facility said the workers couldn't smoke inside their evo-suits while at work. The kind of beings that worked the Nal Kessel mines weren't exactly known for following the rules.
"If I had known the ISB was going to send someone out here on an inspection tour I would have had more time to prepare a proper presentation." Quinlan Sharpe, the Karkarodon warden told his visitor. He eyed the security droids that provided an escort for him and his visitor, making sure the prisoners were kept well out of reach from harming either of them.
Several notorious faces watched the two officials talk. Famous across the Empire for their crimes, some of the most dangerous beings in the Galaxy were in the mine shaft with them. The agent recognized Rom Sion, a top lieutenant in Crimson Dawn, the Anzati serial killer Qui-Jon Krane and the giant Trandoshan Kajidic enforcer Wailin Joosk, aka Killer Lizard, among others. The agent was not impressed. He'd seen worse than them during the last war.
"I'm not here for an inspection, Warden Sharpe. I'm here on express orders from General Travles. My only concern is seeing Prisoner 327."
"Of course. My entire staff is at General Travles disposal. We are a subdivision of the ISB after all." Sharpe replied.
The agent glanced up at several prisoners drilling into a thick vein of molybdenum. Unpolished diamonds lined the walls of the mine. The agent had heard they had some value as jewelry on Earth, which just proved how backwards the Empire's enemies were. Except for industrial use, diamonds were worthless. "How is production?"
"Outstanding at the moment. Despite the release of the majority of our non-violent offenders we have doubled our output of Navy-grade durasteel armor. We didn't have many orders before the war so I'm afraid our guests here may have grown a little lazy. Despite being criminals, they have pitched in quite a lot to assist in the war effort. Nobody wants to live under the Confederacy, especially in prison."
"Not with their institutional racism against aliens. You've heard the 212th finally surrendered two rotations ago." The agent said.
"Aye, things must be really bad on Mars now. I can't imagine."
"I have no doubt we will stop them if they renew their advance. Your work here goes a long way to accomplishing that. The Senate has noticed." The agent reported.
"We all do our part to serve the Empire. Perhaps you could do me a favor?" The Warden asked.
"If it is in the ISB's purview to do so."
"We need more deep-pressure droids. The prisoners can only labor so deep before they require hours' worth of oxygen therapy hyperbaric chambers before returning to their cells. We have detected large deposits of zersium, a critical ore in durasteel, several more kilometers below us. I'd like to get to them without strip mining the whole planet."
"Of course, I will mention it in my report. As you say, we all serve the Empire." The agent vowed. "Now about Prisoner 327."
"He's in his block, three levels above us. Pressure levels are the same as these upper mines so you won't have to depressurize." Sharpe informed him.
"What do you mean his block?" The agent stared at the warden. The Karkarodon flinched. The ISB's former reputation under the Old Empire still carried a lot of weight here in the new one.
"327 has special considerations in regards to his rehabilitation."
"So much so that he warrants an entire cell block. I understand he has one of the most expensive litigators in the Empire working for him." The agent replied.
"They say my species is bad, but his attorney, Harval Dint, well that barve could eat you alive. He got a judge on Mars, well before the CEN overran it, to put a stay on any required labor attached to 327's sentence. It's pretty iron-clad. I'd be stoopa to even challenge it." The warden visibly shuddered.
"Ridiculous. Every prisoner incarcerated by the Imperial Security Bureau should face equal punishment. But as you say, 327 is a special case. I'd like you to take me to him immediately." The agent ordered.
"He doesn't allow me onto his cell block anymore. But my security droids will provide you an adequate escort. His men don't bother them too much." Sharpe said. The agent shook his head. What kind of warden would be prohibited from entering any part of his own prison, especially by a single prisoner?
"Then I bid you a wizard day, warden. The droids shall be sufficient in showing me the way." The agent brushed past the Karkarodon, dismissing him from his mind as soon as he was out of sight.
The security droids led him to a secured turbolift which took him to one of the many cell block levels inside the maximum-security prison. They reached Prisoner 327's cell block in a matter of seconds. The security droids stopped just outside of the turbolift. Their leader pointed at the barred entrance to the cell block, evidently this was as far as they went.
"Don't worry. I know the way." The agent told the droids. "I put him in here after all."
The cell block was a long row of empty cells, their ray shielded cell doors left depowered. Over the prison's public address audicasters someone was playing the Earth song I Fought the Law, by the Clash. Its peppy guitar notes and thumping drum beats echoed off the thick walls of the cell block. The agent couldn't help but notice the irony of the musical selection.
He turned the corner to find himself face to face with a pair of Gamorrean prisoners. The fat pig-guards barred his way. "I'm here to see your master."
"Let him pass." A voice called from deeper in the prison. The Gamorreans separated to let the man from the ISB pass.
The ISB agent quickly found the source of the voice. In the central foyer of the cell block was arranged a raised dais upon which sat a massive throne-like chair. Behind the throne was situated a fire pit where a large puffer pig slowly turned on a spit. Beside the cooking area was a fully stocked bar with alcohol and spice from all over the Empire. None of which was allowed inside the prison. August ground his teeth in annoyance. Prisoners were meant to be punished and eventually rehabilitated. How could they develop a proper respect for the law when their cells were treated like a palatial hotel suite?
Upon the throne sat the Kajidii, or Lorda, of the Gran Kajidic, Brakatak the Bull, in all his glory. He wore an orange jumpsuit like the other prisoners, however his were made of the finest silks tailored by designers like Shimi the Bothan on Palpatine Prime. Behind him, at the bar, was his girlfriend, the Theelin bounty hunter Latts Razzi. The former Black Sun killer grabbed herself a bottle of spotchka, sat down on the right arm of the throne and took a big swig of the drink.
The throne's occupant peered down at the agent with his three eyes. "Well, hello there, Striker. I've been expecting you."
"Brakatak, we've been over this before. It's Agent August or simply August. I gave up my call sign years ago." The agent greeted the crime lord.
"But why? It was a stang fine name. I hear your eldest has picked it up. She carried herself well at Ro-loo a couple of months ago." Brakatak said, admitting he had been keeping tabs on the man who had finally arrested him, for income tax evasion of all things. The gall of it.
"Let's leave her out of this. As you can guess this isn't a social call."
"It never is with the ISB." Latts Razzi chuckled.
"I suppose you have heard of the situation on Nal Kuat." August asked Brakatak.
"You might not have heard, but I've been locked up in here for the past five years. It's mighty hard to come by news from the outside Galaxy." Brakatak admitted. "That being said, I hear there is some kind of outbreak going on in the shipyards. Cardooine Chills if I understand right."
The agent frowned. He wasn't going to get the Gran crime lord to admit to any wrong doing. "You're well informed for someone with no access to the outside Galaxy, Brakatak. That's what the victims are claiming. Seven thousand workers called in sick yesterday, followed by twelve thousand on last night's shift. Preliminary reports are there are even more sick calls this morning that haven't been fully tallied yet. Tell me. Are you trying to lose us the war?"
Brakatak rubbed his chin. "Now why would I want that? I am as loyal to the Empress as the next citizen."
"Of course. And that's why you didn't pay your taxes once the Senate took over the Treasury Ministry from Empress Yos."
"I'm loyal to the House of Yos, and paid every decicredit I owed to the Empress. Least I could do after her father freed me and mine from slavery. But when has the House of Scoundrels ever done anything for me?"
"Bunch of weak-shebbed, bootlickers." Latts Razzi surmised her entire opinion of the Imperial Senate in a single statement.
"I'm not claiming you were involved, but it is a strange coincidence. ISB has had an increase in Kajidic arrests since the raid on Nal Kuat but I always understood you had a good relationship with KDY and the Kuati."
"Those cheats. I'm not saying I had anything to do with this situation but if we had a deal with the Kuati it was that no more than three percent of goods would be made accessible for my associates." Brakatak vaguely explained.
"You mean for stealing. ISB is well aware of your arrangement with the corporations. But your boys have been getting greedy. They've hit up to twenty percent of goods shipments coming into the Kuati system. That's one out of five shipments not being sent to our troopers at the front. For the Light Side's sake, Kajidii. Mars just fell two days ago. Do you want the rest of the Empire to follow?" August asked.
"What I want is a new deal."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Ten." Brakatak offered.
"Out of the question. We have to deal with your rivals in Crimson Dawn as well. How about five?"
"And we get a free hand to deal with Crimson Dawn?" Brakatak asked.
"The ISB can live with that." August agreed through gritted teeth. While the ISB could live with it, the Agent wasn't sure if he could.
"And you call off your dog." Brakatak hastily added.
"Our dog?" August was confused. He knew the ISB chased down organized crime through legal channels. Channels that were currently strained by the needs of the war.
"That kriffing demon. The Mynockian." Brakatak snapped. "He must be one of yours because he's hit us and the Crimson Dawn equally hard."
August laughed. "The Mynockian is a street legend. Something mothers tell their younglings about before hitting the sleeper."
"Bah, it's real. He nipped me nine months ago." Latts Razzi admitted.
"You were arrested hitting an armored hovertruck on Ord Uatol. You tripped an alarm and got yourself locked into the vehicle's vault before the local constabulary got to you." August retorted.
"That's one version of what happened. Another is a muscled human in a Mynock costume jumped my men and kicked me into the back of that hovertruck." Razzi explained.
Brakatak studied August as Latts relayed the details of her arrest. "You really don't know who it is that's doing your job out there, do you, August? How embarrassing. I heard he played a part in thwarting the attempt on Empress Phasma's life. Wonder what ISB was up to while all that was going down."
"Fine, we are aware of the situation. He is kind of hard to miss, whoever he is. The ISB is investigating. That's all I can say."
Brakatak looked at him for a long time. "Tell me, Agent August. You're not here on KDY's behalf and you're probably not here to discuss the boogeyman going after the criminal syndicates. Why are you here?"
August sighed. He despised this. The law was not supposed to compromise with criminals, even in times of war. "You are in possession of the light freighter Agen's Light. Are you not?"
"Perhaps." Brakatak replied.
"The Agen's Light has been the top smuggling vessel in the Empire for the past twenty years. Don't play dumb, we know all about it. We also know its crew, Rana and Ashlei, are known Lieutenants in the Kajidic." August said.
"What of them. They don't sell spice. They've never hurt anyone."
"No. But they certainly smuggle it. I'm not here to arrest them."
"Then why the interest?" Brakatak asked.
"The Imperial Security Bureau is interested in hiring them." August announced. Brakatak's eyestalks went wide. Latts Razzi nearly choked on the spotchka she had just swallowed. August shared their surprise, if for different reasons.
"Hire them? What, are you going to smuggle something past yourselves?" Brakatak laughed at the idea.
"No. Past Space Force. We need to get something out of the Confederacy."
"Echuta. You don't kid around, Agent." Latts Razzi remarked.
"What could be so important that you didn't destroy it when the Navy pulled back?" Brakatak asked.
"It's not a thing, but a being. We need to retrieve Moff Hinter before she can be interrogated by the enemy." August explained.
"That's not a small ask, August. Why don't you send in a Jedi to get her out?" Brakatak asked.
"There's one already on Mars. Attached to the Moff's command staff. Your adoptive niece, B'asia Ti."
Brakatak jumped to his feet. He smashed his right fist into his left palm. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"
"You're being informed now."
"What does her mother think? And her father . . . never mind him. What is the Grand Master doing about all this?" Brakatak demanded answers.
"The Grand Master is unwilling to send more Jedi in. Something about Dark Jedi. To tell the truth it was all pretty murky information. She suggested you. Mentioned your old friend was with B'asia and that you'd know what that meant."
Brakatak looked at the floor in deep thought. Razzi stood up and placed a comforting hand on the Gran's shoulder. After a moment, he gave his answer. "We will do it. For a price."
"We expected nothing less when dealing with the Kajidic. Name your price, within reason, of course."
"A soul for a soul. We get the Moff and the Jedi . . ."
"The Jedi's retrieval is not mandatory." August added.
"It is to me." Brakatak glared at the ISB man. "We get them both off Mars. You release Latts and myself. Today."
August stared at the Kajidii for several seconds. What dark roads the Empire was willing to take, he thought. He held out his hand to Brakatak's. "Deal."
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Up Next- Death March