Author's Note: Good morning, everyone. As a beginning statement, this will be the final chapter in the series and I must truly say it has been an honor working on this piece. I have enjoyed every minute of writing and editing this story, and it truly is a passion of my heart to finally have the entire story finished at this point. I want to thank you all that have stayed loyal to the story since the beginning, or those that have come along and read it, and I hope that at the end of the day, this toil of work has made you satisfied. That said and done, I will tell you that there is a possibility that somewhere in the future, there might be a 'The Rising Action 2,' but it will be some time before I even consider pushing out a sequel. Lastly, enjoy the conclusion to Reylan Praxon's harrowing journey.
Our galaxy's paradox…
Even now I am wondering if what I had done in these past ten years was worth the price I have paid. The time seemed to fly by within a split second, and I have watched myself become older and more worn down by the galaxy's bickering and conflicts. Hard to believe I was 26 at the graduation of the academy, and now…a husk of my older youthful self of 36. In-fact, one thing I hadn't even noticed was that my hair was becoming less of the vibrant and silky texture of brown it used to be and had degraded into grey strands. Not to mention wrinkles had began to form around my forehead, and the left side of my face, slowly becoming asymmetrical to that of my right side. My now phantom limb, which reminds at every minute that it is no longer there with a hollowed feeling echoing my mind…
Now coming to this state of meditation, it is amazing to reflect back on what my ambitions used to be, and how easy it is for power to corrupt the mind. It is an unstoppable addiction, that once you take even a sip of it, it is hard to not want more of it. With that said, it seems to push away the conflicts and burdens that you carry on your journey through our miserable existence, with you solely concentrating on it. Even now I feel the pull of wanting to become the Grand Moff again, and hoping to prove myself to the Emperor, but in a state of clarity and fear, I am glad that when I went to visit the Emperor that I asked to demoted.
The organization of the Imperial Fleet around Endor was a grand sight of power and egoism. The thousands of Star Destroyers, and smaller arrays of ships, to even the massive 19-kilometer-long Executor. Despite seeing Super Star Destroyers in the past, the Executor was by far the largest one in the Imperial Navy, and the pinnacle of our might. The only thing missing from our massive congregation was the 200-kilometer-long Death Star which was on the other side of the planet.
Thrawn, whose last contact I had seen on-board the Chimaera, had seemed to have disappeared after the Revengeance was repaired. No-one knew where the Grand Admiral went, but I had a certain idea on where he might've gone. One day, I might come to meet the Chiss again, but the chances would be on opposite sides as he would most likely be branded a traitor as soon as the Emperor found out about his and the Seventh Fleet's absence. Although, "luckily" for me, I was put in command of two Star Destroyers that were apparently left behind by Thrawn, whose crew were now under my direct authority for the battle that was to come.
Fleet Admirals and the Vice Admiral were speaking together over com channels, while lesser Admirals carried on the message from the higher ups. The strategy was simple, according to Admiral Piett. We would hold position behind the Rebel fleet when it had arrived and prevent them from escaping due to the Emperor having a surprise in store for the offenders. Protests had apparently been thrown out by some of the Fleet Admirals, but a reluctant agreement was eventually met on as no-one wished to disobey the Emperor.
With that said, the com channels eventually turned off as everyone waited for the signal to hyperspace in, an eerie aura encompassing the entire fleet as they stared facing the black expanse of space.
"Admiral Praxon," stated a voice from behind me.
I snapped out of my thoughts and turned backwards, "Yes, what is it Lieutenant Aldrenich?"
"Director Krennic is waiting for you in his office…he says he has something important to tell you."
"Yet he couldn't have told me in person…a shame." I nodded towards my aide and walked towards the end of the bridge to make the transition.
Stormtroopers and a few officers walked past me in marching formation, all of them exchanging a quick salute on their way past me. I returned the salute, before continuing, a sense of contentment filling me as I approached. The door slid open with a hiss, as a white figure turned around, a fist planted on his chin in contemplation.
"Oh…hello, Reylan," a soft-speaking Krennic muttered.
"I was told you have something of importance to bring to my attention?"
"Well, yes…the uhh, Thrawn…he apparently had a message for you."
I walked towards my desk and asked, "Thrawn left a message? Well, let's hear it then."
The white robed figure pulled out an old fashion holorecorder and placed it on the desk, turning it on with a simple tap on the top. Thrawn, appearing in a slightly distorted figure due to the technology's age, was holding his hands behind his back.
"Reylan. I have no doubts that this message has reached you as the Stormtrooper I sent to give you this message is one of my most trusted men. I have no doubt that you will treat him the utmost respect while he is with you, but I suppose you have a range of questions you are currently processing right now. That, of the which, I will explain as curtly as I can in this message."
The hologram took a pause before he added, "You are probably wondering where I am, as the Endor confrontation will have most likely been put into play at around this time. Though, I will not tell you my location in the interest of protection, I will tell you that I am at a safe location and that come the conclusion in whichever favor it shifts, we will meet again one day when the time is of opportune and importance. If, during that time, you are receptive, I don't see any reasons as to why we wouldn't yet again be working together. Though, your fate right now, is to be had at the battle. I wish my sincerest graces and hope that you will survive."
The transmission then was silenced as the figure disintegrated back into the metallic disk…
I reclined into the black cushioned chair, glancing up towards Krennic's blue orbs.
"Thrawn betrayed the Empire…of course that no good alien betrayed us. Why would he risk his life for some millions upon millions of humans?" Krennic spat out bitterly.
"Krennic, he is simply playing to his strategy. Albeit, I don't agree with the fact he abandoned the Empire in the most decisive battle to come most likely, but I can at least respect him. Always playing his own chess game in which, he seems to be multiple steps ahead of everyone."
Krennic seemed to calm down after my comment as he glanced out the observation window.
"Do you think it is possible?" Krennic asked vaguely.
"Do I think what is possible?"
"Do you think the rebellion will actually be able to triumph over us yet again?" A miniscule hint of concern was hidden amongst his tone.
"Anything is possible, Krennic. Miracles happen on a daily basis, luck can seem like it doesn't exist in one instance, where it does in another, and fate seems to have a cruel twist on everything."
The Director turned on his heel and leaned against the wall perpendicular to my desk, "You know…that reminds me of a story that my father used to tell me a long time…"
"And what's that…?" I questioned.
"My father, despite how idiotic he could be at times, eluded to me at one point after having a confrontation with a Jedi. This Jedi told him that 'all is as the force wills it…'"
He paused for a second, before scoffing, "He never did pay much attention to it, and he only told me as a joke since he never believed in the force, or what bearing it could have on one's life…but, now?"
His mouth parted for a moment as silence and darkness peered on his face, "Just thinking about it, it gives me a scary thought. Maybe we are all just pawns in a large insensible game, where this "force" controls everything in life, as if it has a will of its own. Just thinking about that makes me apprehensive and angry at the thought that maybe that is true…"
A smile encroached upon my lips, "You think that the force actually influences our actions? Hmmph, that's a funny thought Krennic."
A frown replaced his vacant gaze, "It's not funny, Praxon. Just imagine that. None of anything you do matters because we are all being manipulated indirectly. Doesn't that just scare you?"
"As if it is any different than it is now, Krennic? The Emperor basically controls the galaxy, and anyone that dares to oppose him feels the might of the Imperial Navy and our Armies. What's so different than having a human control all of us, or some mystical force that 'flows through everything?'"
Krennic didn't continue after that, instead electing to gaze out the window to an adjacent Star Destroyer that was mirroring our position. At that moment in time, Krennic did actually bring up a valid point though. Now reflecting on his words, I could only imagine what goes through the mind that made up the cynical, rude, and rather racist Director.
The looming quietness was broken when Krennic spoke up, "Well, it was just food for thought, Reylan. I thought back when I was creating the first Death Star, that I would be granted amazing power, and achieve my very ambition of being able to do whatever I want. I saw Tarkin as nothing but a supervisor who provided me the tools to continue my pathway to glory and saw everyone else below me as expendable. Such a grandiose delusion, no?"
"Ironic…how that turned out. Galen Erso…a name I haven't talked about ever since the conclusion of the skirmish…had his revenge despite all the odds that was staked up against them all. The Resistance's first combined assault which yielded hope and victory…hell of an irony that his daughter put the final nail in the coffin…as I lied there on top of the tower."
I couldn't help but ask, "What brought this up, Krennic?"
He turned back to me and answered, "Fate. Destiny. How is it that the Rebellion, up until now has been able to survive this long, and win defining battles and still recover. Attrition should've made them stop a long time ago, yet they continue to fight? Hope, cannot be the thing driving them, and it surely can't be luck."
I sat up prominently, "You aren't seriously suggesting that the Force is somehow influencing the outcome of the war?"
Krennic remained quiet as if looking for me to answer my own question.
"It's just funny, Reylan. We have overwhelming numbers, overwhelming resources, yet we lose, we win, they lose, they win…it's been an everlasting cycle for the past four years, and my only thoughts are what would happen once the true battle begins?"
I stood up from the chair and planted my hands on the panel, "Listen, Krennic. I don't want to hear any second thoughts. We will crush their fleet and the Empire will continue on as if nothing happened. We have the most capable Admirals here, and not to mention we have a shield protecting the Death Star. If they were able to win against all of those odds, I would then possibly believe in something like the Force, but it just is statistically improbable they will win this fight."
Krennic then deadpanned, "This battle may cost us our lives, Reylan."
With those haunting words staying with me for a second, I simply replied, "And I don't care."
Krennic shortly after returned to the Communications Wing on the Bridge as I remained pondering in my office, looking over the strategy that was sent to all the ships. To be honest, I couldn't find anything wrong with it, as we were literally a massive wall of impenetrability. Smaller ships such as Corvettes or Frigates filled in the gaps between the Star Destroyers, or Battlecruisers, and the SSD planted firmly in the middle as the command hub. I was actually surprised thinking about why everyone was apprehensive of the plan since it fortified all our weak points.
I turned off the hologram and looked at the data pad that was sitting carelessly on the left-hand side of my desk. I pulled it to my person and glanced at the piece of technology. Amazing, I thought to myself, as such a handheld device could hold thousands upon thousands of units of data and processes, and also have an unlimited navigation of the Holonet. A thing we all take for granted, yet…such a vital tool in the basic administration of our galaxy-wide Empire.
As I was about to go to recline back and watch an Opera on the Holonet though, a beeping came from my data pad and my desk. I quickly got up from the seat and made my way to the bridge, depositing the device into a slot on my belt. Upon reaching the bridge, everyone was hurrying to their positions and Lieutenant Aldrenich stood ready at the front of the bridge waiting for my presence.
"Glad to have you with us, Sir. We are ready for the jump," an eager Aldrenich stated.
I nodded my head and commanded, "Make the jump to hyperspace and let's begin the battle."
The blue spiraling tunnel lasted for about twenty seconds at maximum, in which we came out into real space behind the distant fleet. To my surprise, it seemed like the entire Alliance fleet had actually attended the battle, with a hundred or so Mon Calamari Cruisers, and hundreds of smaller ships alongside a horde of fighters and bombers making their way to the Death Star.
Though, like a swarm of bees warping around a solid object, the fighters broke off from the Death Star and turned back towards the fleet. They must've realized the shield was still up, in which a grin grew from my expression.
The fleet remained idle in-front of the Death Star, as we formed into our battle position only watching as Victory Destroyers, Gozanti's, other types of Corvettes, and a couple of older frigates squeezed into the gaps between the Star Destroyers around the Revengeance, and the Allegiance-Class Battlecruiser directly above us.
The Fleet Admirals of the right flank told all ships to deploy all fighters as the swarm began their way towards our fleet. A flurry of red, green, and blue lasers exchanged as the two forces met, creating a massive light show in-front of us. Quick explosions and faint flickers of energy made up the gaps in the fighters, while some of our attention began to shift towards the fleet that was beginning to turn around.
Though, as if out of nowhere, a massive green beam struck one of the cruisers of the Rebel Fleet, and the feeling of shock coursed through my body.
I whispered, "The Death Star is operational…"
I couldn't help myself from breaking out in a tangent of laughter as I yelled to the crew, "The Resistance is finished, men! Have no doubt, as the Death Star will slowly annihilate every single capital ship until there remains only the small ships, in which we will swoop in and utterly obliterate them!"
I couldn't be any more wrong though…
The Resistance ships began to turn towards us and came full speed at the fleet as if cowering like a rat from a human. Though, a few more blasts from the super laser made quick work of some more Mon Calamari cruisers before they had reached the front of our "wall."
Expertly, however, the ships soon found a way to enter the massive wall we had created to not only hide from the Death Star's laser, but to also attack our fleet directly. It wasn't long after that when the wall began to crumble as though cracks began to flow through faulty and broken wall. Smaller ships, such as corvettes or frigates were destroyed by the cruisers, as the frigates and corvettes of the Alliance, focused on fighters and being damage absorbers for the cruisers. One of the most effective strategy I had to give them credit though, was the use of the GR-75 transports as target saturation, chaos creators, and kamikazes as they were being expertly used by the fleet.
Our turbolasers would graze the transports, instead of the cruisers, and due to their heavy hull and shielding, they would be used quite effectively in helping with the destruction of our ships. Not to mention, that a Star Destroyer, a few ships away from us, got rammed by one of them in the Bridge once their shields were destroyed.
Despite the losses we were incurring, we were equally dispatching their ships also, as their priced Nebulon B frigates, and Assault Frigates fell with ease with concentrated fire from the Victory Destroyers, ISD's, and the Allegiance above me.
It seemed as if we were the more successful part of the defense, as over the com channels, there were reports that the combined forces on the right flank were ripping through the ships there due to a large concentration of bombers and interceptors being used to gain superiority, working in tandem with fire from the cruisers.
The time to fight dawned on the front I was defending as a small detachment of two Mon Calamari cruisers, and a couple of frigates ranging from the infamous Assault Frigate Mark II which was a popular brand for protection amongst the larger fleets, and the Nebulon-B escort frigate. The Nebulon frigates quickly took up a position in which it would provide cover for the cruisers and the more heavy-hitting assault frigates.
An unleashment of red energy was poured down onto the Allegiance Battlecruiser above head, with tangents of fire being directed to the Victory-II Destroyers, and the few Star Destroyers around me. The ships around us concentrated fire on the Nebulons, the Octuple Barbette emplacements slowly grinding towards the firing position as the turning vibrated through-out the Revengeance.
After they were in position, eight uniform laser beams shot in group of four from each side shot out towards the ships in-front of us. The combined firepower from my ship, the two Star Destroyer commanded by Admiral Griladean, and Ossukil that were under my control, and the Allegiance and complimentary Victory Destroyers soon proved a decisive conclusion.
The weak frames of the Nebulons fell once their shielding had come un-done, in which the Assault Frigates went to take the defensive position they had previously taken up. The three frigates took a much more narrowed amount of firepower to destroy since they had formidable shielding and weak points that were next-to-none.
But, eventually, they ended up just as the previous ships did, leaving a gap open to the cruisers that diverted all power to their shields, as evident to the bright blue glow that surrounded the ships, as they began to make a retreat to a bigger force, in an attempt to consolidate their ships again. A feeling of resounding triumph flushed over me, as I called up the Admirals.
"Admiral Griladean, Ossukil, I must congratulate you both on a job well done. Not only couldn't I have done it better myself, but they had no other option than to retreat. Excellent work."
Admiral Ossukil said, "All in another day's work in the glorious life of the Empire."
The other Admiral scoffed, "We aren't done yet, Ossukil. We must bolster our defenses and be ready for anything. Admiral Praxon, what is the plan?"
"There will be no deviation, my colleagues. We will stick to the plan as everyone else is and continue to tighten our vise like grip on the Resistance. They were fracture eventually under all this pressure."
"What about the Interdictors," asked Ossukil, "Surely, they are vulnerable, and in-case you haven't noticed, they aren't the SD variants either."
I used my hand in a dismissive fashion, "Let that portion of the fleet worry about their defense. The orders stand, we will stay here and await further orders from either the Vice Admiral, Admiral Piett, or some of the Fleet Admirals."
With that said, the two voices static'd into nothing as I peered towards the main battle in which occasionally, stray beams from both friendly and enemy targets impacted our ships.
A sense of miniscule hopelessness was rising in me, despite the fact that we were numerically superior. The thought of losing just a couple of ships and seeing the converging rebellion ships right in-front of me, alongside fighters strafing past the command deck, and the other Imperial vessels around the Revengeance created a sense of uneasiness.
One thing that I found rather odd was seeing a disk like freighter fly past the observation windows, which was almost impossible to misidentify. A YT-1300, was the make of the ship that had flown past, but of course, it was infamously known only as the Millennium Falcon to Imperial Intelligence. Piloted by Rebel Commander, Smuggler, and Pilot Han Solo and his Wookie co-pilot Chewbacca.
There was also confirmation of Rogue Squadron, 11th Squadron, Blue Squadron, and Yellow Squadron being present at the battle as they apparently blew threw our TIE Interceptors, and Aces.
A thought that came to mind during all of this chaos was the fact that despite all the years of researching and glancing at Resistance combat tactics, the Imperial doctrine on engagement never shifted from being numerical and heavy-hitting. Hence, the severe lack of variety and competence of Imperial fighters.
Lieutenant Aldrenich approached me with a sense of urgency displayed in his stance, "Sir, the Planetary Shield is disabled."
Immediately turning to Aldrenich, I asked with astonishment, "What…?"
"This just came in, Sir. The ground forces have stated they have suffered severe casualties from a strike force on the ground. Not to mention the locals are apparently aiding the strike force."
I couldn't get the thought out of my head…how in the blazes did the Resistance ally themselves with furry savages on Endor?
"Impossible. How…those damned savages actually have some sort of damn intelligence to the point they are fighting with our enemy?"
The Lieutenant only nodded.
"Stars be damned…can't we deploy reinforcements to the planet?"
Aldrenich countered with a slight scoff of disrespect, "With the ensuing battle that is happening at this very moment in time, Sir? Doubtful."
I turned out to look towards the green luscious planet, completely lost in thought as I looked towards where the shield projector must've been.
"And this is confirmed…?"
"Of course," stated Aldrenich.
"Then we are vulnerable…the Death Star is vulnerable; the Emperor is vulnerable…so many people…"
My voice droned off at the end at the thought of millions of people dying yet again to the thought of a massive explosion coming from the space station.
"Have we contacted Admiral Piett, and the Grand Admirals? Or do they know of the situation?"
Lieutenant Aldrenich turned towards the comms panel near the end, before replying, "They know, Sir. They were suggesting we should push towards the Death Star to cover any weak points on the super structures, while we scramble fighters that may be going for openings."
As I was about to address another issue with my Lieutenant, I heard a voice get played on the bridge's loudspeaker. It was unmistakable as the late Firmus Piett himself.
"Attention all Imperial vessels. We are going to close our formation near the Death Star immediately. We have reports that the shield protecting it has been disabled. All Fighter Squadrons will be deployed to the Death Star immediately to combat any fighters. We WILL not fail the Emperor."
The Fleet began to push forward, the Rebel ships being caught off guard by the movement, in which they began to get overwhelmed by the superior fire power of our ships. Cruisers fell one right after another, and the surface of the battle station began to light up with turbolaser fire, and presumably the eruptions coming from destroyed ships as they commence dogfighting.
The desperation of the attacks began to loom on me as the next two minutes or so played out in-front of me.
Spare fighters and bombers began hammering the ships around me, the destruction of shield domes becoming apparent as bright lights emit from the top towers of the Victory-class Destroyers to the left and right of the Revengeance. Then…the GR-75 transports that were all too common, seen flashing around the arena we had been placed in, crashed straight into the towers, decimating them before my eyes.
Then, a move that I had not expected at all; the Allegiance above the Revengeance began to turn around, and within a split instance, it jumped to hyperspace within the second, leaving us at the front of the flank.
Boots squeaking across the metallic flooring sounded, a white-caped figure approached.
"Reylan," uttered Director Krennic, "I hate to bring this up, but…I do believe we should start to consider our options."
A sense of disbelief showered my face, "Are you saying we should retreat, Krennic? How indignant!"
He continued, "But Reylan…you've heard what has happened, no? If the Shield Array is disabled or even destroyed…how in spaces are we going to defend the battle station?"
"We are all moving to defend the station. The entire fleet is pushing forward, and we are taking as many ships with us as we can."
The Director asked, "Is that even a wise move? We are moving from a tactically superior position, and we are basically-…"
"Krennic," I lowly stated, "Do not doubt the orders of the Fleet Admirals. We will move in, and that is final."
"Have you no realization of what is taking hold here, Reylan? The conversation we had earlier, had that no meaning? Had it just gone in one ear and out the other?"
He seemed to wait for a response from me, but when I gave none, he yet again continued, "What about you? What have you done up until now…" he asked.
"What have you become…?"
I snapped my remaining hand backwards and retorted, "I will not be a coward, and I refuse to allow them to win yet another battle. They have taken so much away from my life, Krennic. I will not be satisfied with myself if I left now. NOT to mention, the very fact that the Emperor would have both our heads if we dared betray him."
He approached me slightly, cupping his hand to my ear, "Think, Reylan! If the Force actually has anything, and considering the past few years we've been fighting, how come they haven't-…"
I interjected, "Enough Krennic! I don't want to listen to your mysticism, and regardless if it has some 'unguided will'…what is the difference? Being indirectly manipulated by something as crude as fate, or being controlled and advised by a single head of state? In my eyes, there is no damned difference."
In a last-ditch effort to persuade, he asked, "Please…?"
I raised my hand and cried out, "Guards! Get Krennic out of my sight, and make sure that he remains in the communications center."
It was swiftly carried out as two stormtroopers carried the reluctant Krennic back to his assigned post, an expression of anxiousness plastered across his skin.
For the most part, after my little confrontation, the battle seemed to shift more and more inwards towards the center. The large cruisers and the frigates seemed to direct themselves towards the large Executor, copying the same scenery from what could be observed on the Death Star's surface.
It's also worth mentioning that a majority of the fleet was now beginning to turn and move towards the center and compress so that there was little room for the rebellion fleet to engage the flagship. In-fact, Admiral Piett called for all forces to close the gap between the immovable obstacle that was "the wall."
Something seemed to have happened…
The Executor seemed to bank to the left a bit, as one pointed edge of the Executor and the entire side began to swing downward, revealing the exposed structure on-top of the massive vessel, while it also began to propel forward at a steady rate. With this movement, it strode through a portion of the Rebellion fleet, but also took out a large amount of our own ships in its odd maneuver.
It didn't dawn on me until the massive ship had impacted the surface of the Death Star, and the quick light that tore the vessel to smithereens in little less than a second jutted outward. The debris and parts from the ship was pushed towards the planet and the fleet, which was equally catastrophic as the lesser movement capabilities of the Star Destroyers and frigates caught the short straw as they were obliterated.
With Admiral Piett, and a Vice Admiral being effectively killed in the course of battle, command went directly to the Fleet Admirals that quickly organized the remaining ships into blocks that were to combat the chaotic concentration of the now slightly superior resistance vessels. Though, in light of this development, engagement of the opposing ships was now easier for the super laser, as a few more of the large cruisers met a swift end to the green beam.
It was almost as if the entire battle had turned into zones of combat, where the tactical map pointed out basically overwhelming numbers against the groupings of Imperial ships, from both fighters and frigates, while the cruisers moved to intercept the larger battlecruisers which were now the main priority now that the Executor was destroyed.
Despite the turning tides though, most of the Imperial admirals were able to push back against the odds and were able to decimate the enemy due to the superior firepower each ship had in comparison. The only moment of tactical decisiveness was when the resistance's squadrons of fighters and bombers entered the battle as all focus went to the anti-fighter corvettes, in-which the resistance ships then punched through the group like loose piece of cloth.
Though, sure enough, the battle returned to us as a MC-80a command ships, and four regular MC80 cruisers narrowed on our position. The numerical odd wasn't a large problem since three well-equipped and competently led Star Destroyers could overpower the mere two ships quite easily.
The six Octuple Barbette batteries combined from the three Star Destroyers, alongside the heavy turbolasers from the two Victory-II Destroyers we had was more than enough to annihilate the threat.
Showers of green and red clashed against each other, as the two aisles adjacent to my walkway called out tactical information from the shield percentage, to any energy fluctuations. The cruisers were beginning to falter as gaps in the faint-blue shielding appeared, with slight scorch marks appearing on the hull of the ships.
…
…
Blinding light…
Almost as if a star had blown up in your face and replaced your vision with blue and white.
It was amazing how it contrasted with the black expanse of space, only subsiding after a couple of seconds of complete engulfment.
There was no more grey background, nor was there a massive grey ball orbiting the planet of Endor. It was just a complete void, with massive anomalies rocketing towards us.
Roaring of metal stressing against a great force sounded throughout the ship as if decimation was filling the entire ship. I could have sworn I saw a massive grey sheet of debris from the Death Star slice through the middle of the Revengeance, cutting the Rear from the Bow of the ship.
Glimmers kept on shining in the darkness as it drew nearer and nearer, hypnotizing me in the splendor that it carries. The memorization was taking all of my faculties that I didn't feel the gripping of my collar, let alone the dragging of my feet across the walkway as a white robed figure carried me towards the end of the bridge.
It seemed all surreal, only for a small sense of reality to kick back at me with a faint thud as my back slammed hard against a wall. I only caught a couple milliseconds of a white figure closing a blast door, and his entire face contorting as it seemed as if air rushed from the room, cluttered messes and people rushing towards the direction of the right followed by the white figure himself.
The pod pushed forward from the chamber, the Revengeance getting smaller and smaller as it drifted into two, followed by a rapid explosion coming from the two Star Destroyers that had once surrounded me also.
…
Isolation and Silence…
Everything that surrounded me was nothing of.
Grey scattered parts, a ring that seemed to have fit the profile of a focusing lens for the super laser…
Shield domes and reactor modules from Star Destroyers…
TIE Fighter solar panels, and the ball cockpits floating past me, the black overall'd pilots frozen within their seats.
The sensors pinged and pinged within my escape pod, only capturing unknown signatures…none that were Imperial.
…
I still didn't know what had occurred until sitting within the soundless pod for an hour, two hours, maybe even four hours…
It dawned on me that the Revengeance had been destroyed by incoming debris from the massive explosion that rippled across the battlegrounds.
A piece of flying metal zoomed through the middle of my ship and caused a chain reaction and decompression.
Lieutenant Aldrenich…Director Krennic…deceased.
The Emperor…also no longer, alongside Darth Vader, and whoever else was on the Death Star.
Was all of this just a dream? A surreal and twisted nightmare of mine that I can't wake up from? Perhaps I was just dreaming and I still had both of my hands, was still the Grand Moff of the Outer Rim, and perhaps haven't had to endure with the failures I had promptly caused. The Omikron Squad, and my special TIE Phantom from the Maw perhaps still in-tact?
No, everything that has just happened was real. No matter how hard I pinch my skin or bang my hand against the walls of the pod, I had to accept the concept that everything truly had just happened.
"Fuck," I muttered to no-one in particular.
"My crew…all my men, those years' worth of trust…"
"Krennic, Aldrenich…how could they be gone? It's an impossible thought," I carried on.
Yet it wasn't impossible, and it wasn't hard to believe. Accepting these grim circumstances were trivial and necessary.
Overcoming the shock of these events, I began to monitor the comm channels that were pushing around the space. Garbled messages and interference came into the relay, most likely due to the extremely large debris fields that surrounded the pod itself.
Though, it seems as if not all hope was lost, as stray squadrons of TIE fighters and other Imperial fighters were lost in the debris, wandering around at a loss of words for what they were witnessing.
It wasn't hard to notify them of my existence and survival, in-which they turned around to not only guard my vulnerable pod, but to get my insight on what had happened.
It turned out they were in the Death Star reactor tunnels chasing out a group of X-Wings, when they returned to the surface of the massive battle station. Had the squadron commander not told them to go after the four fighters, they might've been incinerated from the fiery destruction that came from the inside out.
They shut down their fighters around the pod so that we wouldn't garner too much attention, and as we drifted in the debris field, a single Imperial signature blipped on the sensor relay. It was apparently a Vigil class Corvette that was attempting to navigate its way out of the destruction so it could hyperspace away to an Imperial controlled fortress world or somewhere that must've been secured.
It picked the pilots and myself up from our circumstances and after encountering a couple of A-Wings, which just apparently let us go due to them not wishing to engage an anti-fighter vessel, we made the jump to lightspeed.
I found myself in the galley after some time of aimless walking around the ship, where the only type of liquor being sold was a couple of bottles of Tihaar, which was fitting for the time as it was known for dulling physical pain. Slumping over in a booth, I compulsively drank some of the liquor, but it tasted foul and awful, prompting me to spit the liquid out. I used my gloved hand to remove the left-over residue on the clef of my lip, letting out a gruntled sigh.
"Unfortunate turn of events, don't you think?" a voice asked me.
I lazily pulled my head up to look at whoever asked, "I would dare say catastroph-…"
Whether it was from the slight buzz I got from the small amount of the Tihaar, or the knowledge that "he" was back, my blood turned cold.
"Surprised to see me, I take it?" the voice asked again.
"You," I could only muster.
"Yes, me…me…me."
The self-righteousness that poured out of his orifice quickly rose the temperature of said chilled blood.
"What on damned Nar-Shaddaa are you doing here?"
"Grant me a respite, Praxon. It's been a while."
The figure then went for one of the bottles on the table and stated, "Tihaar…I never took you for a heavy drinker…guess I was wrong."
He broke into a fit of laughter before chiding, "I kid though. I know you don't drink heavy liquor such as this, so all things considered, this would be quite a first for you."
"I think you owe me a reason why I shouldn't double-over this table and strangle you to death."
A smile creeped on his face, "A fair demand, but how about something a little more…formal?"
"And what would that be," I inquired.
"I know your name, Reylan Praxon. But do you know mine?"
I paused to consider his thought, before he quickly answered, "It's rhetorical, of course. You don't know my name."
My patience was comparable to a piece of dental floss, the thought of pulling out my SE-14C was an all too entertaining thought, filling the man's face with black scorch marks.
"Let me guess, imagining shooting my face full of blaster bolts, have you?"
I stammered, "I-…Impossible…"
The figure then leaned forward and stated, "You will listen well, Praxon. I am here for the matter of fact that your true purpose is about to come into fruition. Your struggles, your problems, your life of jadedness ends here."
He paused, changing his expression to one of malevolence:
"There will come a day, where after your 'brief' retirement from service, a lady by the name of Ysanne Isard will recruit you back to the Imperial Navy. You will accept this invitation, and you will be given a chance to prove yourself yet again and have a cause worthy of fighting for. You will listen to what she has to say, and there will come a time where there will be much division, in the future."
He parted from his close proximity before scoffing, "Only after everything has taken its course and amused me…"
He trailed on before ominously stating, "Then…I give you my permission to die."
The figure then pulled himself from the booth and pulled out his collar a bit before nodding formally towards me.
He walked off without another word…
I had nothing else to say, nor to think…
The Battle of Endor was a complete military failure, where not only did we lose the de facto leader of the Galactic Empire, but we lost millions upon millions of men, resources, and ships. It was effective and right to say that the Empire has dissolved into a dwarf of its former might and glory.
Better yet, the Grand Admirals had apparently heard news of said events and either joined in certain "Imperial Remnant" factions as they were nicknamed by said warlords or created their own divisions of territory. With one fell swoop, the resistance had won as there was no longer a centralized government; it was replaced by a divided series of people who didn't agree with one another.
Only a few things were still known to me, things that were still true despite the constant conflict and struggles I had faced…
Had I been able to redo everything again, I would've never left my family…
IF I wasn't able to change that fact, I would've never assumed the role of Grand Moff, and instead would've elected for staying as an Admiral under Grand Admiral Thrawn.
And if I wasn't able to change that…I would've never went to the Battle of Endor.
…
But, nothing can excuse what I had done…I had killed my entire crew and despite my emotions not getting the better of me yet, I was dead on the inside because of this. Nothing can replace the personality and person that was Director Krennic, no-one can replace the obedience and ambitions of Lieutenant Aldrenich, no-one could replace the memories I had created on the Revengeance, nor the artifacts and private décor I had added to my office…
We arrived at the planet of Cerea…it wasn't the Imperial stronghold the pilots had thought as it had just a few scattered Imperial outposts surrounding the planet. Many survivors on the Vigil Corvette told many of the commanders about the events that had occurred at Endor, all visually surprised and completely broken on the inside.
I took it upon myself to ditch my Imperial uniform, aside from my code cylinders and my rank placard, (which I pocketed inside one of my pockets) and pulled a cloak around my body that I may have "borrowed" from a nearby stand. I made my way towards the trade port on the planet where I thought I might catch a ride back to Eriadu.
Arriving at the ruins of the once proud Praxon villa on the lake, I walked over to where I had elected to bury my parents. The garden had grown significantly in my absence, with weeds and flowers overgrowing the simple yard, and began growing on the exterior walls and even uproot some of the stones that lined the walkway.
I kneeled down and glanced at the three headstones that lined the small plot of land, and with three flowers: a pink rose for my father, of which it was his favorite type of flower, a yellow rendellion for my sister, which reminded her of the scent of clover, and a bird of virtue for my mother.
I placed them neatly against the base of the three stones and sat in silence for the time being as I thought a few final thoughts…
Was it all worth it? Passing up a life of love? Passing up a life of purpose…just to prove that the Empire was right? Or was I simply indoctrinated by the propaganda of a corrupt government of atrocities? I suppose I'll never know.
The End…