Chapter 6
It was 0210 hours and Commodore Ephraim Zein was not pleased to have been stirred from his slumber. Commandant Vooart had better have a good reason for the sudden intrusion, or else there would be fireworks on the bridge.
The bridge of a just recently former Imperial Star Destroyer.
Apparently the Empire, humans in particular, loved naming their little space toys after fearsome monsters or malevolent adjectives aimed at driving fear or admiration, Zein couldn't tell which, into the hearts of their enemies.
Or maybe it was just another attempt at driving human superiority into the hearts of aliens like himself. Yes, that made sense. Just another arrogant ploy by the humanocentric Imperial Regime to establish dominance over non-human races. For nearly twenty-five years, the Empire had control over most of the known galaxy; refugees such as Ephraim Zein managed to escape from the core worlds out into the Unknown Regions.
And he had lived like this, scrounging around trying to make a living doing whatever he could get his hands on to get by. His wife and kids died years ago, at the hands of smugglers, malcontents, Imperial interrogations, and sometimes just the run of the mill bad-luck virus, for which there was no cure or treatment in the Unknown Regions.
And no one cared. Zein's heart had grown colder with each passing year, surviving the chaos and disorder the Emperor and his forces caused, despite their proclamations of bringing peace and unity. Ephraim Zein's life was practically over…
Until Nuso Esva came along. He offered Zein the only thing that would quench the fiery rage in his heart. Revenge. And Zein gladly accepted his offer, putting his talents to good use. Once upon a time, in the days of the Old Republic, he was a fine military officer and capable leader on his homeworld of Zorak Prime. Now he would use that military skill to squash the Empire.
At first, Zein didn't really expect much out of Warlord Esva. It didn't matter to him. Zein expected to perish after the first or second space battle. He figured Esva wouldn't last much longer. But with each victory Esva struck against insurmountable odds over the Empire, with each alliance he built with warriors and pirates alike, with each territorial gain he made in the Unknown Regions, it was clear that there was more to Nuso Esva than meets the eye.
He was an inspiring leader, though cold, calculating, and ruthless. Often times he would lie, cheat, and steal to get ahead, to achieve his ultimate goal of destroying the Empire. This made him extremely dangerous, for Nuso Esva operated by no one's rules except for his own. And his tactics worked at first…
Then came an Imperial commander named Thrawn. Thrawn was different from the rest of the Imperial elites. He was an alien, defying the odds of racism toward non-humans such as himself. Thrawn achieved the legendary status of Grand Admiral, an originally perceived mythical rank, until he made it reality when he began his military campaign in the Unknown Regions. It wasn't long until word got out about his existence. His non-human status, intelligent diplomacy, powerful might, and cunning tactics started winning over Nuso Esva's forces. The ones that resisted were summarily defeated. Esva had lost ground for nearly three years against Thrawn, and there was no telling how much longer he was going to last.
It wasn't so much that Thrawn was the better tactician or diplomat in Ephraim Zein's mind that gave him the advantage over Nuso Esva. It was his resources. Esva simply didn't have the resources to fight Thrawn. Often resorting to general harassment and guerilla tactics, Zein could see the writing on the wall that spelled Nuso Esva's doom.
Or so he thought. It was always interesting to watch someone's fortunes change in the midst of war. And that's exactly what happened to the Warlord. A humanocentric Imperial, who didn't like Thrawn existing in the Imperial military, offered intel, military equipment, and starships to Nuso Esva. Resources Esva badly needed.
Resources that made him Thrawn's equal. Maybe even his superior.
And here Ephraim Zein was, using his Old Republic military knowledge to train various species how to operate the equipment. Here on board the Star Destroyer, what was its name? Oh yes, it was called the Absolute. Zein didn't care about names. From now on, it would be designated Star Destroyer One, his new flagship.
Ironic that he would be using Imperial starships to fight the Imperials. But no matter. Starships were starships. Now the operators just needed to be trained as efficiently as the Imperials.
And Commandant Vooart might need a lesson about not disturbing his commanding officer from a good night's sleep. It was one of the few luxuries Commodore Ephraim Zein still enjoyed. He didn't like Vooart from the moment he stepped on board Zein's ship a few days ago, transferring under orders from Nuso Esva himself.
The bridge door slid open, and Zein walked on deck. Normally, military protocol demanded that the bridge crew announce "Commodore on the bridge!" or "Attention on deck!" However, it was prior to 0600 hours, and such formal eccentricities of the day shift needn't be adhered to at the early hours of the morning.
And so no one announced his presence on the bridge. No one even noticed he was there, except Commandant Vooart.
"Good morning, Commandant," Zein said cordially. Commandant Vooart was an unknown alien, the same species as Nuso Esva, himself. One of these days, Zein made it a point to figure out just what species Nuso Esva's race was. Vooart walked toward him briskly.
The Commandant was a full foot shorter than Zein. It wasn't surprising. Ephraim Zein's race, the Zorakians, was a reptilian species standing over six feet tall on average. Their rigid green scales and slitted eyes stood in stark contrast to their more mammalian body structure. They stood upright, and fit rather comfortably into human clothing and shoes.
"Good morning, Commodore," Vooart responded when he got closer. "I thought you'd want to take a look at this, sir."
He ushered him over to a transponder relay. It was a piece of alien equipment that normally wasn't on board an Imperial ship. It was a wonder that they even got it to work properly on Star Destroyer One. Zein took a careful look at the display. He was tired from being woken up at 0200 in the morning, but he was alert. Skimming over the reports and data that came up, it took only a second for the situation to form itself in his mind.
"A hyperspace conduit?" Zein said to Vooart.
"Yes," Vooart confirmed.
"How many ships are coming?" Zein demanded.
"I don't know, but I'd say over twenty," Vooart answered.
"Over twenty," Zein repeated, touching one claw to his lower chin in a pondering gesture. "That sounds like an attack force, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, Commodore," Vooart said, nodding in agreement.
"Go to General Quarters, secure all decks," Zein ordered. "And deploy the mines."
"Yes, sir."
"Signal Star Destroyer Two's fleet. We may need backup for this attack."
"Yes sir," Vooart said again. He started to walk away, but faltered, hesitated, and turned back around.
"Commodore?"
"What is it, Vooart?" the Commodore said, slightly annoyed.
"Which one was Star Destroyer Two again?"
Ephraim Zein sighed and shook his head. "We've gone over this before Commandant, it's the Dragonhead."
"Right, sir. I'll get right on it." This time the Commandant strode away quickly.
Revenge was about to be served. And even at 0210 in the morning, Ephraim Zein couldn't help but smile. Today was going to be a good day.
…
The task force dropped out of hyperspace at 0230. After a week of preparation and hyperspace flight, it was finally time to strike.
"I still don't understand why there's such a conglomeration of warships in this sector," Captain Parck spoke softly. Beside him, sitting in the command chair, hands steepled underneath his chin, Grand Admiral Thrawn nodded in agreement.
"I concur Captain," he said. Thrawn straightened his tunic and sat upright in his chair. "The Manajran System has no tactical value. I found it interesting that one of our scout reports found a fleet of warships here. I had a hunch that we should investigate it ourselves."
"Or so you thought, Admiral," Parck said, wincing at the slight insult he let slip. The Captain tried to make a point not to say anything that could be misconstrued as an insult to the Grand Admiral. Thrawn was the best military leader and tactician he had ever served under. Needless to say, this was one of those times where he wished he could reverse time, even for a mere few seconds.
But Thrawn was more concentrated on the battle beginning to take place. Ahead, out of the front viewport, even Parck could begin to see the flurry of ships hastening to prepare for battle, no doubt caught by surprise from such an impending threat. Yet, something didn't seem quite right….
"Their reaction time is remarkable," Thrawn commented. "Their fighters are already launching from their ships. I'm impressed."
"Yes, sir," Parck responded, not really concerned about the fighters. It was the ships they were launching from that worried Parck.
"Admiral, you're going to want to see this." He started pulling up a tactical display on the holo emitter behind Thrawn's chair. The Grand Admiral swiveled around in a perfect 180 rotation to take a look at the display.
"Star Destroyers," he murmured.
"Two of them," Parck said. "And several other capital warships, some of them Imperial."
This was not good. Nuso Esva receiving Star Destroyers and other Imperial armaments could only bolster his force's morale. The technological advantage Thrawn enjoyed over Esva was quickly coming to an end. "I sure hope there aren't Imperials manning those ships."
"There won't be any," Thrawn assured Parck. "Grand Admiral Grant knows better than to entangle any other Imperials in our scuffle." A small gleam came into his glowing red eyes. "He wants Nuso Esva to do his dirty work.
The task force started spreading out into attack formation and closing in on the enemy ships, still clustered around the Golan III battle stations. Three Golan III battle stations. Three of the empires strongest stations, in the hands of a ruthless alien. And they were in this sector. All three of them.
"Admiral, do you find it a coincidence that there are three Golan III battle stations in this sector?"
A slow smile played across the Grand Admiral's lips. "No I do not, Captain," he said suspiciously. "Now why would Nuso Esva have three battle stations guarding such an insignificant planet?"
"My only conclusion is that there's something he's protecting on the planet," Parck replied.
"I had a hunch something unusual was going on here," Thrawn said softly. "And it turns out that I am right."
"Admiral, have you ever noticed that your hunches tend to be more accurate than other people's facts?"
…
Ephraim Zein's grogginess had all but disappeared now. The battle was beginning to get under way. Seven Imperial Star Destroyers had dropped out of hyperspace and dozens of other warships along with them. Carrack-cruisers from what he could tell. They were coming into view now as they triangulated their attack formation in standard Imperial procedure.
"They're well trained, I'll give them that," Commandant Vooart said, standing beside Zein.
Zein had his hands clasped behind his back. "Did you notice the name of any of those Star Destroyers?" he whispered to Vooart.
"No, sir. I never checked the names." He scurried over to the data readouts and looked over the ID's. After a few moments he asked, "Are you referring to the Admonitor?"
Zein nodded his head faintly. "Yes, that's the one. That's Grand Admiral Thrawn's flagship."
A look of dread came across Vooart's face. Color drained from his cheeks. He now realized the gravity of the situation they were facing. They were dealing with the legendary Imperial Commander of the entire Unknown Regions personally.
"You better signal Star Destroyer Zero," Zein said with a note of finality. "And you'd better hurry."
"Of course, sir." He glanced back at the displays, then looked back at Ephraim Zein again with that same questionable look as before.
Zein rolled his eyes. "It's the Hydra," he said exasperatedly. "That's Nuso Esva's flagship."
Vooart put up his right forefinger in a flash of realization. "Right, sir. I'll get right on it."
…
"I wonder why those ships haven't budged from the battle stations," Parck said to Thrawn. The enemy fighters had taken up defense formations around the Golan III platforms, waiting for the Imperials to make a move.
For a moment the Grand Admiral was quiet. His eyes squinted a bit as he studied the updates of the tactical readouts, examining every move, every twist and turn, each ship made. Parck watched Thrawn carefully. Each action an enemy made taught Thrawn a little bit more about their commander. Nothing captivated Parck more than watching Thrawn deduce an enemy commander's strategy simply by looking at how they positioned their forces.
I don't know," he said slowly. "But I think I know who's commanding their fleet." He paused a bit longer, giving the displays a good once more over before looking back up at Parck.
"Zorakian," Thrawn said at last with that calm, confident tone. "He's a capable military officer, but not dangerous to us." He looked at the Captain, smiling. "Signal the Fleet. Engage the enemy."
Parck dutifully logged the orders. As he punched in the last of the command codes, a stray thought clicked in his mind. "If a Zorakian is commanding the enemy forces, where's Nuso Esva?"
"I'm not sure," Thrawn answered, rubbing his chin. "But my guess is that he'll be here shortly. We must use this advantage while we still have it."
…
Zein watched the layout of Grand Admiral Thrawn's ships as they closed in on the Golan III platforms. "Excellent," he said to Vooart. "Thrawn's taken the bait." Just a bit farther, and there would be no turning back.
The Commodore pulled out an old chronometer and opened the lid. Inside was a small picture of his family that he had. Before the Empire had torn it apart. He made a silent vow to them and closed the lid. Their blood was about to be avenged.
…
"Something's not right," Thrawn said aloud.
The bridge went completely silent. Parck spun around with a quizzical expression on his face. He didn't like what he saw.
Grand Admiral Thrawn was frowning, his forehead creased and meshed together in deep contemplation. It was as if the Grand Admiral was torn between two decisions and didn't know which one to make.
"All craft halt," he commanded at last. The crew stared at the Admiral in disbelief, not registering his command.
"I said halt all warships!" he commanded again, this time putting more steel and force in his words.
This time it worked. The order jarred them out of their confusion; the officers and crew began to carry out the order. Parck logged it into his command datacard, ensuring that the other ships received the transmission. When he was finished he moved over to the Grand Admiral's side.
"Sir, is something wrong?"
Thrawn just looked at him with a pained expression on his face. "This is too easy," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "This has got to be a trap."
"Admiral," Parck pressed gently. "Don't you think that if it were a trap, Nuso Esva would be here to initiate it? And you said so yourself that it was a Zorakian commanding the enemy force. If that's true, then Nuso Esva can't be here."
"Oh but he is, Captain," Thrawn said quietly. "He is here."
…
For the first thirty seconds, Zein thought he had seen a glitch on the tactical boards and screens. But afterwards, it became painfully clear. And this certainly wasn't a good sign.
"Oh dear," Vooart said, his voice beginning to tremble with fear. This was obviously his first experience in battle. "Do you think Admiral Thrawn suspects anything?"
"Why else would he halt his advance?" Zein admonished sardonically. "He knows we're up to something. Nuso Esva warned us not to underestimate his intuition." He glanced down at his chronometer for a couple of seconds. "Well, this will have to do. We can't stop the timers anyway."
…
When they first arrived, everything was proceeding as planned.
But then the operation went straight to hell.
Whether it was pure instinct, blind intuition, or the grace of lady luck, Parck couldn't tell, but when the first explosion came off the portside of the Admonitor, the Captain said a silent thanks to the Force that the Star Destroyer wasn't caught in the blast. However, the shock wave from the detonation rocked the ship violently and he lost his footing and fell to bridge deck as chaos ensued all over the bridge.
Glancing back up at Thrawn, who was struggling to stay in his chair, he couldn't help but feel helpless as more and more explosions began spattering around the task force. The hull began to creak and roar with each wave of explosion. Deck plating began to cut loose, and crewers and officers alike were thrown from their stations.
"We appear to be caught in some sort of minefield!" Thrawn bellowed.
"ALL HANDS FULL REVERSE!" Parck roared with as much strength as he could muster. He was bracing himself against the bulkhead, staggering to get up.
Thankfully the other ships also began to reverse course. There was only one problem. While most of the Carrack-light cruisers were already backing out of the explosion waves, Star Destroyers were a lot bulkier, moved slower, and provided larger targets for the mines to do damage. Looking through the starboard viewport, Parck watched in horror as one of the Star Destroyers backed right over a detonation. The plasma vents screamed upward and tore a hole in the front of the diamond-head of the Star Destroyer. Fortunately the Admonitor began clearing the field, suffering only minimal damage.
"Damage report!" Thrawn ordered the tactical station. Lieutenant Commander Ellington had returned to his post, his crewmen still struggling to get back into their seats. "We've lost the portside turbolasers numbers two and three, Admiral," Ellington reported. "And the portside deflector shield."
Thrawn nodded his head. "And the other ships? What's their status?"
"Uh," Ellington stalled as he pulled up their reports. A drop of sweat trickled down his forehead. "Four of the other Star Destroyers are reporting minor to moderate damage. The Predator is disabled. All power has been lost on the Destroyer. And," he hesitated for a brief second. He looked up at the Grand Admiral, a solemn expression came across his face. "We've lost the Firestorm. The Vengeance reported witnesses watching it explode from several nearby detonations."
The bridge grew deathly quiet. A Star Destroyer. Lost in a spacefight; and not even a single shot had been fired. Even Grand Admiral Thrawn's blue skin started to pale a little in shock of the news. "And how many of the Carrack cruisers remained intact?"
"Twenty-seven," Ellington reported without having to look at the displays.
"Signal the rest of the fleet," Thrawn rasped, straining his voice to clear itself. "Prepare for a second advance."
It was the second time the bridge crew stood in silence again, not one of them budging from their stations. All eyes were on the Grand Admiral.
"Admiral," Parck said, finally catching his breath, and standing up from the corner. "We've lost twenty-five percent of our forces. We stand no chance against three Golan III's and a fleet of warships."
"I'm well aware of the dangers, thank you, Captain," Thrawn said sarcastically. "Make preparations for another assault."
Parck was stunned. He had never seen Thrawn shaken like this. There were occasions when even Admiral Thrawn lost battles, most of them to Nuso Esva. And on every occasion, he gave the order to retreat without a moment's hesitation. It was one of the things Parck admired most about the Grand Admiral. He never feared losing a battle in order to win a war. And he was never afraid to withdraw when the advantage wasn't his.
And the advantage was clearly not in the Empire's favor. Nuso Esva had caught them in some kind of mine field trap, wiping out two of seven Star Destroyers and crippling several other ships. Worse, yet, reinforcements for his side were already starting to appear. Another Star Destroyer had dropped out of hyperspace, along with a few old Rendili Dreadnoughts.
The Warlord had pulled the carpet right out from underneath them. And worse yet, he wasn't even present at the battle.
The detonations began to fade as the last of the mines self-destructed. They had obviously been put on timer. How the timer was coordinated so efficiently to mask the arrival of the Imperial Fleet, Parck couldn't figure. And even worse yet, they couldn't even detect the mines.
The bridge had been silent for almost a minute. "Admiral, perhaps we should regroup with the rest of the fleet," Parck spoke. "Try to figure out just what the hell happened out there."
"It was a cloaking device," Thrawn muttered.
"A cloaking device?" Parck replied breathlessly. "That's can't be true."
"How else could we not detect them?" Thrawn deduced. "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, is the truth."
"But where did Nuso Esva get the technology?" Parck retorted. "Never mind that, I know where, but what I mean is where did the Empire develop cloaking mines?"
"The cloaking shield was a prototype one of the Grand Admirals was working on a couple of years ago," Thrawn answered. "He managed to successfully duplicate the technology on a squadron of TIE fighters, but I've never seen someone adapt the technology to space mines before. Until now, that is."
The Grand Admiral looked around at the bridge crew, seeing what Parck saw; fear. Fear was on every crewmember. Hell, Parck was scared half to death himself. This was insane. How can anyone face an enemy that they can't even detect? They were flying blind!
"There was always a drawback with that technology though," Thrawn continued. "Any ship that was cloaked couldn't communicate nor receive communications for the cloaking shield interfered with such transmissions. However, Nuso Esva managed to bypass that problem by setting the mines on automatic timers, then triggering their cloak."
"So all the mines should have detonated," Parck finished.
"Yes," Thrawn nodded. "He can't pull that same trick on us twice."
"Great," Ellington spoke up. "But what about those Star Destroyers?"
Thrawn gave him a painful smile. "Nuso Esva managed to take down two of our Star Destroyers without a confrontation. It's only fitting that we do the same with his."
….
"So much for the Grand Admiral," Zein snickered in triumph. "I've got to hand it to the Warlord. He sure timed that one well."
"Indeed," Vooart nodded. He was still looking at the tactical displays. "But look," he said and pointed to the configuration of Thrawn's vessels.
The Commodore's jaw dropped. "He's still coming," Zein said in awe. "He's either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Or," he regarded as an afterthought, "he's got a sifter card up his sleeve."
"I've just received word from the flagship," Vooart reported. He handed the datacard over to Zein.
Glancing over at Star Destroyer Zero, the Commodore wondered what other tricks Nuso Esva had to showcase as well. With reinforcements, numbers, and the battlestations on theri side, conventional wisdom held that they had the advantage.
However when it came to Nuso Esva and Grand Admiral Thrawn, conventional wisdom should just as well be ejected out the viewport.
…
"Can it work?" Thrawn asked Lieutenant Commander Ellington.
"It's worth a shot, Admiral," Ellington replied. "Let's just hope that the Emperor's backdoor is still there."
"And," Thrawn added, "that Grand Admiral Grant was not aware of it."
The Imperial Fleet started its second wave. TIE fighters lanced out from the Star Destroyers creating an aggressive forward wedge. Ahead, several Firekiln warships pulled in front of Nuso Esva's three Star Destroyers as the ships began withdrawing from the Golan III's. Several waves of TIE fighters and other unidentified defenders erupted from the Destroyers and made their way across the former minefield toward the Imperial fighters.
"Why are they abandoning their battlestations?" Parck demanded.
"They should never have extended their ships out that far," Thrawn replied. "Golan battlestations are very capable of handling enemy fire on their own without the aid of ships. Any attempt to protect them in such a manner is a waste of resources." He put his right hand back on his chin. "I'd say that Nuso Esva has finally taken over the defending forces."
"I wonder what took him so long," Parck commented.
There was a pause. "I really don't know," Thrawn said. "Observe, Captain, how he gives us a choice; duel with the battlestations, or engage the Star Destroyers backed up by whatever ground weaponry Esva has at his disposal. However," his eyes sparkled, "we have a third option. Examine all obstacles carefully, Captain. Often, they can be turned into stepping stones."
Thrawn raised his left hand and dropped it sharply, giving Ellington the go ahead.
Ellington nodded and turned to his station crewmen. "Transmit this code order sequence at the following frequency…"
…
"They're advancing past the battlestations," Vooart announced.
"Yes, I can see that," Zein replied, growing tired of Vooart giving him play-by-play coverage of every single little move Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet made. The fighters had already engaged each other. The larger ships were tangling with the battlestations as they grazed by, exchanging fire with each other. Just a little more…
"Let them come a little closer," Zein ordered. "Prepare to open fire on my command."
"Commodore," the comm officer, a grey-skinned alien with an oval head, said. "We're receiving some kind of transmission from the Admonitor on a coded frequency."
"The targets," Vooart demanded. "What are they?"
"They're," he looked up at the Commandant curiously, "they're just our three Star Destroyers.
"Block the transmission. Now!" Vooart snapped.
Zein wasn't liking this. He had never seen this side of Commandant Vooart before. There was something he wasn't telling the Commodore, and Ephraim Zein didn't appreciate being left in the dark. Especially by an annoying junior officer. Especially on potentially important matters such as this.
"Excuse me, Commandant," Zein said. "Just what in worlds is going on?"
But before Vooart could respond, the lights went completely dark on the bridge of Star Destroyer One. The computers shut down as well, and the displays disappeared.
"Report!" Zein ordered.
"We've lost main power!" one of the crew chiefs replied. "Deflector shields, weapons, engines, everything."
"It gets worse," a lieutenant spoke up. "The main computer is down."
Zein hissed and swore in his native tongue. Then a stray thought clicked in his mind. He marched over to Vooart. "What do you know about this?" he demanded threateningly.
"Thrawn's managed to shut down all three Star Destroyers," replied Vooart. "I've always suspected that there was a backdoor transmission that could shut them down," he spat contemptuously. "The Emperor thinks he's so clever building in these safeguard contraptions. Always making sure that no one can use his toys against him."
"If that's true," Zein said, "how did Thrawn know about it?"
"Because he's the Emperor's pet," Vooart replied. There was a strange tone in his voice just then. "He always has been. And he always will be."
Zein stared straight at Vooart. There was more to him than meets the eye. There was something the Commodore saw in the Commandant. Something dangerous. Something he didn't like one bit.
Then there was a sudden lurch and Zein and Vooart staggered on the bridge upper deck. "We're moving," Zein said.
"It's a tractor beam!" exclaimed Vooart. "Thrawn wants the Star Destroyers intact."
Zein turned to operations officer. "Commander, how long until the main computer is rebooted?"
"It'll be another twenty-five minutes at least," the Commander answered.
There was another hiss. They were doomed. Thrawn had defeated them…without even firing a shot. Zein looked around outside the viewports. The Firekiln ships and the Golan battlestations were putting up a tremendous fight, but they were losing. Losing to an Imperial. Losing to Thrawn. And badly. The Star Destroyers were powerless, and Nuso Esva was completely cut off from directing the battle.
"We have no choice," Zein said, heaviness in his chest. "We must surrender."
"No!" snapped Vooart. "We will never surrender. Not to the Imperials. Not to Thrawn. Not ever." He stood perfectly straight, his head tilted up in prideful defiance. Then he pulled out a strange comlink.
"I've just received word from Lord Nuso Esva," he announced to the bridge theatrically. "We are going to detonate the rest of the mines. The ones on our Star Destroyers."
Right before Ephraim Zein's eyes, he saw a man's demeanor change like never before. And even though he was a full head taller than the other, this time it was the Commodore who was afraid.
"What the hell?!" he finally said. "You're trying to kill all of us! We will all perish," he looked over at Star Destroyer Zero, "and that includes Nuso Esva. Those orders didn't come from him! They came from you!"
Vooart sneered. "You fool," he snarled.
"I…am…Nuso Esva."
…
It had been a hard training session.
For Elliet Doran at least. He was still feeling the ache from the back of his head where Ellysia had knocked him with the hilt of her lightsaber. It was a miracle that he didn't blackout cold. She swore to him that she never used her Force powers, but Doran was beginning to doubt her sincerity. Especially, when she was beating him, a trained soldier. And more than that really.
They were strolling down the hangar bay walking in companionship silence; Doran because he ached too much to talk. He hoped that was the same reason Ellysia wasn't talking.
"You sure you're not using your Force powers in our matches?" Doran asked for the umpteenth time.
Ellysia chuckled. "Still can't get over that I'm winning?" she teased.
"That has nothing to do with it," he declared defensively. "All I'm saying-"
Doran brushed by another military soldier. A shiver went up his spine, and he spun around to see who bumped into him.
It was another army Lieutenant, Doran's equal in rank. Elliet didn't recognize him, but there was something wrong about the soldier. Something dreadfully wrong. The man had a pale complexion and bright orange red-hair that seemed to have never been cut. He was looking back at him, sizing him up, just as Doran was sizing him.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant," Doran addressed the man. "You're out of regs."
"I beg your pardon?" the man replied, questionably, his tone dull and low.
"Your hair," Doran said. "It's out of regs."
"Oh," the man replied, and smiled. "I'll take care of it right away." And he walked off.
Ellysia had been watching them the entire time, not bothering to say a word. But it didn't take a Force user to realize that Doran was suspicious about the other Lieutenant. "Something wrong?" she asked.
"Yes," he said turning back and picking up his pace. "That man's not in the military. His hair was way out of regulations. I don't know how he got on this ship, or where he appropriated those uniforms, but we have an intruder on board."
Ellysia matched his speed, focusing her Force senses and making herself alert. Her head snapped back in shock when she sensed the suspect. The Force was with him, just as surely it was with her.
"Wait," she said, and grabbed Doran's arm. "I know who that man is."
"What?" Doran said reflexively. "Do you recognize him?"
Ellysia nodded her head; color drained from her face. "I can't tell you who he is, but I can tell you what he is. He's one of my home planet's leaders."
"They call themselves, the Kore."
…
Five minutes later, Doran had grabbed Ellysia's arm and practically yanked her into the nearest briefing room, sealed the door, and made sure no one was listening in.
"Okay," he said, "Go."
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "All right. My home planet is located out in the Unknown Regions. We are a peaceful people, with little technology. We don't even have space travel. But my people hear the Force."
"Hear the Force?" Doran questioned.
"Yes," she said. "The Force actually speaks to us. Unlike the Jedi and Sith, who can feel the Force, we can hear the Force speak to us."
"Can you use the Force like the Jedi and the Sith?"
"Yes," Ellysia replied, "but it's different. The Force lends us its powers. According to legend, my planet was conceived directly by the Force. All living beings who come from the planet have the Force inside them. Whereas the Jedi and the Sith regard the Force as an energy, I regard it as a conscious being."
"A god," Doran finished.
"Yes, God," Ellysia finished. "The Jedi and Sith believe that all living beings created the Force with their life energy. My people hold the belief that it was the Force that created everything. It's not a product of life. It's the source of life."
"Amazing," Doran commented. "I've never heard of such a people."
"Probably not," Ellysia finished. "An extremist religious sect, called the Kore, control our planet. There are six Kore, each representing an attribute of the Force they most connect with: Knowledge, Wisdom, Light, Darkness, Power, and Prophecy."
She swallowed and paused momentarily, figuring out what to say next. Doran was listening intently drinking everything in.
"The Kore seek out the most powerful Force-users on our planet, and select them to become a planet leader. The strongest of the group, then becomes the Lord of the Kore, and leads them until his death. Then a new leader is selected and the cycle starts again."
Doran put it together. "So it's like a hierarchy. First it's the Lord, then it's the Kore, and then it's the people."
"With the Force leading us all," Ellysia put in.
"Unbelievable," Doran stated. "These are like the ancient religions most indigenous peoples hold to on their home worlds. But never is it concentrated on the Force."
"I know," Ellysia said. "The Kore have a vision that only they can bring harmony to the universe, through the Force, by guiding all people to it. Only then, will evil be destroyed."
"And what do you believe?" Doran inquired.
"I don't know," she confessed. "When I was little I believed because that what I was raised to believe. Now," she blinked back tears. "It's not so simple."
"So how did a girl from a planet with little technology wound up by herself on Endor with a lightsaber?"
"We can finish this discussion another time," Ellysia said. "We're after the Kore who's on this ship. And I know who he's after."
"Let me guess," said Doran.
…...
The two squared off on the bridge. One was stronger than the other. But the other was far more dangerous.
"Get to the escape pods," Ephraim Zein ordered. "Get off this vessel while you still can."
"Belay that order," Nuso Esva cut in. "We can't have the Imperials get any signal about what's going to happen next."
But it was too late. Zein had severed Esva's manipulative hold over the crew. They started to scramble like a stampede to the bridge door, hoping that the escape pods hadn't lost power as the rest of the ship had.
"I won't let you sacrifice my comrades on an altar," Zein threatened.
"You mean my comrades," Esva snickered.
And with that Zein drew his blaster from his hip. But Esva was faster. The shot hit Zein straight into his chest, and he collapsed on a deck. Looking forward, he didn't see the triumphant glory of his enemy standing there in front of him. Instead he saw his wife, his son, and his young daughter. He smiled faintly, closed his eyes, and Ephraim Zein was no more.
He had gone home.
…
The hallways were scrambled with aliens and humans alike trying to reach the escape pods. And moving betwixt them like a slithering snake, was Nuso Esva. No one noticed him. Because most of his underlings had never seen him, nor his race. He was a legend, a legend that no one noticed when it became reality.
He made his way to the hangar bay, to the insignificant shuttle, that barely had enough propulsion to escape the imminent doom of the Star Destroyers. A small, insignificant shuttle that no one would pay any mind to.
And that was the way he preferred it. Esva let out a small chuckle. Sometimes, this was too easy. Once on board, he punched a button on his comlink. Then he set course and dropped out of the Star Destroyer's hangar bay.
As all hell broke loose.