Chapter Four
For more than a year, N'Lola's training continued peacefully, with no unusual incidents nor any particularly major interruptions. There was the oddity of several unexplained accidents that occurred on a monthly basis, after the incident with the Inquisitor, each of which causing a few deaths at a time. Since the visit of Inquisitor Jerrik, there had been four hundred and twenty-eight deaths throughout the fleet, ones that she couldn't explain, but she been tasked to their replacement nevertheless. Virtually all of these proved to be communications personnel, as another oddity N'Lola could not explain, but she had chosen to replace all of them with Twi'leks. However it had happened, she had certainly benefitted from it, now able to ensure that she knew of all communications activity throughout the fleet. Even so, the admiral had been growing more suspicious with the passing months, and in particular, more suspicious of the Emperor. It was no secret the Emperor disliked having a Feeorin in command of one fleet, and a Chiss in command of another fleet, but they each had… talents, that made them hard to replace.
The last several months had seen two major battles against what N'Lola regarded as third-party threats to the Empire: it wasn't a battle against defectors, and it wasn't a battle against the Rebellion. Even now, the fleet had been ordered to one of numerous uprisings that had begun near simultaneously: it was suspicious, as if some outside force had orchestrated such a thing. It was literally within the same five-day period that the uprisings had sparked on several worlds currently under imperial authority. A religious uprising had been initiated on Pergitor by the Church of Infinite Perception, an uprising on Zygerria as the Zygerrian Slaves' Guild attempted to throw off the yoke of the Empire, and a corporate dispute between Rothana Heavy Engineering and a competitor had escalated into all-out war on Rothana. Additionally, a civil war had been sparked on the factory world of Bescane, between the supervisors, managers, and workers: the workers demanded more pay and cleaner atmosphere while the supervisors demanded worker pay remain the same but their own be increased, and that they be provided with finer offices. The management refused to consider either faction's demands, according to the report N'Lola had received when the fleet received briefing communiques, and instead attacked the regions where the protestors lived and worked. When the supervisors' faction counterattacked and the workers' faction defended themselves, the managers' faction had implored the Empire for assistance.
For their part, the fleet had been ordered to crush the rebellion on Zygerria, perhaps because it was considered the most important threat, perhaps because it was considered the most dangerous threat, or perhaps because Palpatine wanted to get rid of a certain Feeorin admiral. N'Lola couldn't tell which one of those it was or even if it wasn't some combination of the three, she simply knew that they had been dispatched to handle the Zygerrians. As the fleet arrived in the system and slid out of hyperspace, N'Lola stepped into the admiral's ready-room in response to his summons.
"Ricona, the fighting on Zygerria is certain to be intense. I will not tolerate a loss, and as such, I am sending you to personally oversee the attack on the Zygerrian insurrectionist forces," said Darth Fralius as he stood gazing out a window at the planet below. She could sense the radiation of his agitation and ire, though she could imagine no real reason for that: it was true, the Feeorin people's adopted homeworld of Odryn was in the same quadrant of the galaxy as Zygerria, but the Zygerrians had never bothered the Feeorin.
"Yes, Master," she replied, in an appropriately subservient tone, "I will require command of the Annoo-dat Primes from the Intrepid." The admiral simply nodded once in answer to the statement, and she sensed that he might have been pleased by her growth over the last three years and some months since he had taken the sixteen-year-old as his apprentice. She had grown stronger, remained deferential but more confident in asserting what she needed to have provided to her for the successful and satisfactory completion of her assignment.
"Take them. The battle begins tomorrow, the Acclamators will be sent to land at 0700 hours," he stated, and she nodded, turned on a heel, and exited the ready-room to travel immediately to the Intrepid to take command of the battle preparations.
As the Acclamators sank from orbit into the atmosphere, ground-based defenses opened fire on the ships, but it was insufficient to destroy them or breach each ship's shields. In an intimidating line, the six warships landed, with the Intrepid and the Eternity in the centre; on the Eternity's half of the line were the Hammerhead and the Wilhelm, and on the Intrepid's half, the Champion and the Cutter. Soldiers filed out in a sweeping mass that formed a massive line of battalions and companies, box-formations of soldiers preparing to launch an all-out full-scale assault across the Zygerrian mesa summit to attack an ancient fortress. It was intensely shielded, enough so that it would have been able to withstand a bombardment from space, and it would need to be taken by a direct ground assault. As the ships landed on the rim of the mesa, the imperial infantry poured out onto the mesa in a single impressive landing, with N'Lola at the front and centre. Surrounded by an eight-foot brick wall made up of reddish-orange scales, her own height of five feet eight inches looked small by comparison, though she was encouraged by the fact that most of the troopers placed under her command were similarly dwarfed by the Annoo-dat Primes.
"You needn't be concerned, Lady Vurkoth," offered a man to her left, towering above her with a heavy tail behind him and a DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle in his hands, "we will ensure you have the clearance you require to fight unencumbered."
"Thank you," she replied with a faint nod, glancing sidelong toward the eight-foot Annoo-dat Prime, a man named Ennaam Zhorak, drawing and activating her lightsaber as she prepared. It was true, she had never been on such a major battlefield as this was about to become; she was not frightened, though she was slightly nervous with it being her first time on the field. She was the technical leader, but she'd relied on the fleet's tacticians to advise of an overall battle plan, and from orbit, they'd been able to see the enemy fortification far more clearly. It had a great wall around it, spreading across the mesa, with garrisons and armouries scattered through it, including on the wall, and as a result, they had been forced to deploy the Empire's Self-Propelled Heavy Artillery units, of which each Acclamator carried three dozen. Each was of the SPHA-T variant, armed with a powerful turbolaser cannon meant primarily for the task of decimating enemy fortifications and obliterating enemy walls.
"Move the SPHA-T's forward," she commanded, touching a headset mounted against one ear to address the artillery crews directly, "Destroy as much of the wall as possible, hit explosive munitions depots as soon as you have a clear shot to do so." The army formations parted, and the massive walkers progressed in a line toward the wall, two hundred and sixteen of them in all. Even as the fortification-destroying walkers moved forward, she could see across the battlefield that the Zygerrians had prepared a response for them. Their fortress gates opened, and a massive host of walkers emerged, ones whose designed was well suited to countering them: All-Terrain Missile Platforms, a mech walker that the Empire itself used rather heavily.
"Bring forward the PTL troopers," she ordered into her headset, "lock onto those AT-MP's and destroy them before they can eliminate our SPHA-T's!"
"Yes, Ma'am!" came the reply, and from the back of the formation where they were previously secure, two thousand storm troopers raced forward, each lugging a Mini-Mag PTL. Even as the walkers closed on each other, the SPHA-T's lumbering slowly into range while the anti-vehicular defense walkers, comparatively, ran toward them as quickly as possible, they dropped to a knee, loading and activating their targeting scanners. Missiles flew from enemy walkers and bombarded the twelve-legged SPHA's, disabling several before they were able to get in range to fire on the walls efficiently. Soon, flickers of red appeared on the targeting scanners of the imperial troopers, and immediately, a volley of homing missiles sliced across the battlefield, some twisting to move around the obstacle of one of the many disabled or destroyed SPHA walkers. Missiles slammed into the shields of the enemy walkers and knocked them back several feet in the process, teetering on the edge of falling as the troopers urgently reloaded and raced forward to close the distance. Meanwhile, the one hundred and forty walkers still mobile reached firing range, and began charging their main cannons as they aimed for the wall.
Missile barrages ripped across the battlefield once more, though this time the enemy walkers targeted theirs on the turbolaser cannons themselves. The backlash of power caused several dozen explosions that temporarily blinded the Zygerrian ground combat pilots, and hundreds of walkers were left vulnerable long enough to be destroyed by the missile fire of the imperial troopers. For the moment, N'Lola could only watch the battle, moving the formation nearer to the enemy's fortress as the missile troopers pushed forward, soon standing amidst the wreckage of walkers that had lost their legs to take up a more defensive firing position. Even as they did, they were joined by the crews who survived their walker's crash into the surface, though now there only remained ninety-two SPHA-T's that were still operational and mobile. As the line filtered through some of the legless walkers, N'Lola paused to consider them as the line halted anew, as the automated defensive emplacements on the wall rose when the last defensive walkers fell.
The SPHA-T was massive, a fullness of four hundred and sixty feet long and roughly sixty-seven-and-a-half feet tall, but it was vulnerable to anti-artillery fire, as the Zygerrian missile platform mechs had demonstrated with an unfortunate level of clarity. Now, the walls themselves were a threat, even as the surviving walkers began to puncture it with massive holes, though it would take several shots to create an opening for the infantry to swarm into the fortress. She recognized the turrets that rose out of the wall: Bp.4 anti-vehicle turrets, and worse yet, Bp.2 anti-infantry turrets.
"Hold back until the turrets are destroyed," she instructed the infantry over the radio attached to her left ear, "missile troopers, acquire firing positions and take out those turrets!" Quickly, the storm troopers began scaling atop the wreckage of ruined SPHA walkers, and began targeting the anti-infantry turrets as blaster bolts lanced out across the battlefield at infantry and armour alike. N'Lola watched with a critical eye as several turrets were destroyed from the volleys of guided missiles, hundreds of missile troopers were killed by turrets, and still dozens more SPHA-T's were destroyed by the turrets.
"Attention Acclamator crews, lock onto the turret emplacements and fire torpedoes," N'Lola ordered in her headset, as she remembered their torpedo launchers could be used in atmospheric combat. Seconds later, a volley of twenty-four brilliant flares of red energy whipped overhead and slammed into twenty-four of the anti-armour turrets, followed more than a minute later by a second volley that took out two dozen of the anti-infantry turrets. The walkers were down to thirty now, but there was a hundred-meter gap in the wall that went clear down to the dirt, which meant this would soon become an infantry battle. Even as the battle raged and volleys were exchanged, N'Lola could sense a massing of what was for her at this moment, an incalculable number of Zygerrian infantry personnel.
"Get ready! The Zygerrian infantry are massing up to make a preemptive attack before we can press through the walls!" she warned into her headset, and imperial infantry battalions fanned out as widely as possible, maximizing the number of individuals who could be firing simultaneously. Some dropped to one knee with their rifles, allowing a second row behind them to fire concurrent to their own attacks, which N'Lola hoped would double the efficiency. As it was, thousands were dead between the destroyed walkers, missile troopers killed by the turrets, and those troopers who had advanced too near the turrets. Fortunately, the Annoo-dat Primes were watching her intently, following her lead precisely, and waiting for her to give them the attack order. Minutes passed, as the Zygerrian infantry within were gearing up for the counterattack, and brilliant red flares ripped across the sky to destroy an ever-increasing number of turrets, until a man's voice came across the radio.
"All torpedoes have been fired, Ma'am," advised the captain of one of the Acclamators.
"How many turrets remain?"
"Thirty-seven Bp.4 and sixty-one Bp.2 turrets remain intact, Ma'am."
"Launch the gunships now!" she instructed, and moments later, a massive swarm of Low Altitude Assault Transports soared overhead as a second wave assault on the fortress walls, providing more targets than the turrets had the guns to fire at as four hundred and eighty of them raced toward the engagement. Even still, the turrets managed to turn hundreds of gunships into smoldering wreckage on the battlefield, turning it into a near maze of wrecked air and ground armour. Despite the best efforts of the automated turrets, however, the LAAT's were armed with missiles of their own, and were able to drop hundreds of troopers on the walls, where they quickly aided in the destruction of the turrets.
"All gunships away, Ma'am," advised the same captain as before. She used the Force to lift herself up into a better position to see, atop one of the legless walkers, and noticed that there were no longer turrets on the walls, though fire from within the fortress was obliterating the remaining gunships. The battle was going to be a costly one, but she had already known that as she rode aboard the heavily armed troopship sweeping down to the mesa where the battle would take place.
"Troopers, forward!" she ordered, then glanced toward the Annoo-dat Primes directly below her, and shouted to them without the headset, "Split evenly, take positions along the surviving sections of wall to either side, and shoot any Zygerrian soldier that tries to come through!" Ennaam nodded, made a sweeping forward gesture with one hand, and the earth below them shuddered, as the massive reptilian warriors were finally unleashed to charge into the battle. Already, imperial infantrymen and storm troopers were racing forward, pouring into the gap of the wall into a massive open space behind it, where the Zygerrians had formed up to wait for them. N'Lola used the Force to carry her from one walker-roof to the next in graceful, gliding leaps that spanned dozens to hundreds of feet. She ran across each one, before leaping forward again, proceeding nearer and nearer the front, the gap in the wall, and the Zygerrian forces that waited now engaged in a ferocious firefight with the imperial troopers. Their numbers were greater than she thought, she realized, as she reached the roof of the nearest SPHA-T to them, and then rushed forward again, leaping from the roof and gliding toward the brutal engagement just behind the wall.
Corpses littered the battlefield by the thousands already, as she landed and brought her lightsaber around, to begin to redirect blasts toward the enemy when they started to target her. The lightsaber made her a target, but it also kept her secure, as she allowed herself to focus and draw together her energy, while the troopers around her began to fire more aggressively, their morale bolstered by her arrival. Even though it felt like hundreds died every second, on both sides, both Human and Zygerrian continued to fire, until Zygerrian morale faltered. The defending soldiers moved back quickly, pulling further into the fortress and taking up positions more defensible than standing in the open, though ones they would still be able to fire from. She pushed forward, leading an aggressive continuance of the attack, until she noticed more Zygerrian soldiers emerging from armouries, armed and ready for battle.
"Fall back," she ordered coolly into her headset.
"But, Ma'am, the admiral," began one of the troopers into his helmet-mounted communications.
"…isn't here right now."
"Yes, Ma'am!" came the reply, and the troopers began to pull backward, slowly backing up as they continued to fire, refusing to be utterly routed, though falling back precisely as instructed. She had not said 'flee for your lives,' nor had she said 'retreat,' and every trooper knew that meant he was expected to continue to fire, even as they started backing out of the Zygerrian fortification. Already, the battlefield was practically blanketed by the bodies of the dead.
"Fall back to the gunship wreckage, use it for cover," she ordered, and soon the last of the imperial troopers had crossed through the threshold of the wall, and were surprised to see the wedge-shaped firing positions that their reptilian allies had taken. Encouraged, they fell back more quickly, allowing N'Lola to create a wall of force ahead of herself before somersaulting backwards, withdrawing a hundred feet at a time until she herself was only sixty feet off the wall. Finally, energy crackled through her form in readiness, and she took a step forward so abruptly that it made every Zygerrian jerk back in surprise. Brilliant, blinding blue light filled her eyes, her facial features shifted smoothly from battle-calm to a mask of hatred, and she carefully coloured her Force Veil with the greatest volume of hate that she could focus on. Suddenly, pale blue smoke began to rise from every Zygerrian soldier she could see, as embers of cerulean heat crackled across their skin for a heartbeat before her attack simply dissolved a massive portion of their force. Horror filled the countenances of those who had survived the onslaught of her Deadly Sight, protected only by the fact that her vision had been unable to see them, several rows back from the firing line. The Zygerrians' broke for a moment, just long enough for her to launch herself backward with the Force and cross through the massive hole that had been blasted in the fortress wall.
As she landed, she nodded to the Annoo-dat Primes, who lifted charged rifles and prepared to fire, as N'Lola leapt backward again, landing another hundred and thirty feet nearer to the cover where imperial troopers waited on her arrival. Almost instantly, Zygerrians recovered their battle-morale as they saw her withdrawing, and swarmed out through the hole in the wall, where they were annihilated by the crossfire of her reptilian loyalists. As the Zygerrians within the wall watched their brethren be cut down like wheat by fire from enemies they wouldn't be able to see until they passed through the wall, N'Lola saw the opening.
"Ennaam, fall back to the walker wrecks!" she ordered, and without hesitation, the reptilian warriors bolted from their positions and raced toward the wreckage of the Zygerrian walks to take up new defensive positions. Again, the Zygerrians gave chase, though the Annoo-dat Primes were too quick and were able to take up defensive positions before the Zygerrian defenders could aim at them effectively.
"Ricona!" came the voice of the admiral over the communications system. Inwardly, she groaned at having an imperial disruption.
"Yes, Master?"
"I sensed a massive disturbance in the Force," said Darth Fralius, his tone making it clear he expected her to give him a response in a rather prompt manner. Her lightsaber hummed through the air, deflecting a blaster rifle's shot as she used the Force to hurl herself backward once more, until she landed behind a wrecked Zygerrian walker husk.
"I used the Force to… blast it!" she started, then jerked as a blaster rocket hit the walker she was behind and split the wreckage in half, launching a large portion over her head and ruining the wreck's value as a defensive position. She quickly leapt forward, wheeling around toward the enemy and masking herself in a veil of anger as a bolt of green lightning ripped out of her hand and slammed into the Zygerrian rocket-soldier with fatal force. The admiral fell silent, perhaps realizing she hadn't cleared the kill zone quite yet.
"Fall back to the artillery wreckage!" she ordered into her headset, "Split into two sections and take defensive positions. Pull them in!" Quickly, the troopers complied, and soon she was the only one in the middle of the battlefield, her reptilian loyalists having obediently withdrawn as far back as possible while still being among the walkers, needing time to recharge their rifles and fire firing positions. She waited until she could sense them ready, and then she stepped into a position where the Zygerrians could see her. Zygerrian soldiers fired at her instantly, and she quickly swept out of their line of sight, agitating them into chasing her as they watched her run from one position to the next, further and further away from them, their deadliest enemy. They fanned out in a wedge as they wove between the ruined walkers, until they seemed to abruptly realize they'd not seen any of the imperial troopers for several minutes.
"Now!" she ordered, when she noticed the Zygerrians had stopped, and pressed her back against the back of one of the legless walkers. Immediately, troopers emerged on both sides and reptilian riflemen lifted out of the grass at the far end, and tri-directional fire slammed into the Zygerrian formation, eviscerating the formation.
"Ma'am," came the voice of an Acclamator captain, "the Zygerrian garrison commander requests permission to surrender."
"Grant it," she replied, turning to look across the battlefield as a massive white flag rose over the Zygerrian fortress, and she sighed in relief, feeling more than slightly dizzy from the expenditure of power. She didn't know the exact number of Zygerrians who had died today, nor the exact number she had disintegrated with the deathly power she had been forced to use, and in the latter case, she was rather certain she didn't want to know. Despite having eaten less than an hour before the battle began, she felt like she was starved and dehydrated, as one of her reptilian warriors approached.
"Thank you for seeing to it that we survived, Lady Vurkoth," he whispered softly to her, before turning and waving one massive hand.
"Need a medic over here! Lady Ricona seems to be suffering battle fatigue," he shouted, and soon there were several medical personnel rushing to assist her in her return to the Intrepid. On her return to the ship, medical personnel did a thorough examination to ensure her health, and by nightfall, had a report prepared for her.
"Well, what's the conclusion?"
"Whatever you did, it seems to have had a catastrophic impact on your body's natural resources. If I didn't know otherwise firsthand, I would say you had gone ten days without food and two days without water," replied the medical corpsman, "Whatever you did, I don't advise doing it again."
"Casualty report?" she asked.
"Ma'am, you should first take time to replenish your body's resources."
"What's your name?"
"Tal Matan," the physician replied.
"I need to know the casualty report, Tal Matan," she said firmly. He frowned, but nodded quietly in answer.
"Imperial forces have been diminished by thirty-six thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight individuals."
"And Zygerrian casualties?" she pressed, and the doctor sighed. He knew she needed rest, but she was clearly not going to accept the instruction to rest until she had been provided with the information that she was demanding of him. Therefore, he felt he had no choice but to give her the information himself, if he wanted her to get into a bed on her own power instead of fainting for the second time that afternoon. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, then proceeded to answer her question.
"The Zygerrian garrison commander has reported ninety-seven thousand four hundred and sixty-two dead, of which twelve thousand eight hundred and three bodies are unaccounted for," he replied, "Ma'am, you should really get something into your system."
"Thank you, doctor. I do not feel well enough to eat right now," she answered. Primarily, it was due to those numbers. It wasn't so much that ninety-seven thousand Zygerrians had lost their lives, it was that absolute last number that bothered her: twelve thousand eight hundred and three unaccounted for, twelve thousand eight hundred and three dead whose remains had not been found and never would be. They were enemies of both the Empire and the Rebellion, enemies who were attempting to kill her, and yet, nevertheless, it bothered her, and made her sick to her stomach, to think of the sheer magnitude of it.
"If the admiral inquires after me, please tell him that I am in dire need of rest," she said as she slid tentatively off the table onto her booted feet once more.
"It won't be anything less than an absolute truth," said the doctor as he nodded, observing as she wavered for a moment uncertainly on her feet. She was weak with nausea, hunger, thirst, and battle fatigue, right now, there was only one thing N'Lola desired: rest, and as she wavered on her feet momentarily, the doctor put his arm about her to steady the sixteen-year-old. He was, himself, a man of twenty-seven years aged, black-haired and hazel-eyed, having light complexion and dressed in the typical uniform of a medic. Six feet tall and two hundred pounds, he was notably well muscled, certainly more than physically capable of supporting the Bpfassh teen's current, weakened condition.
"Come on, I will take you to one of the vacated chambers," said the medic, helping her to one of the Intrepid's now unoccupied quarters, until she sat on the edge of the bed. She took a deep breath, releasing a sigh as the sound of the engines reached her ears and she felt the ship starting to lift off the surface of the planet. The hangars were empty, now, of all but the speeder bikes: every low-altitude gunship had been destroyed, as had every artillery walker. Each of the six ships had lost several thousand troopers, including a couple thousand storm troopers, as a result of the battle, but they'd given thrice-over as good as they got, or very nearly.
"Captain Almazir," said the admiral over the communications channel, "why has my apprentice not returned from your ship?" It had been several hours, and his apprentice had not returned from the Intrepid, though he had been waiting for her for quite some time. He wanted an explanation, and Captain Almazir was the one most likely to have a suitable answer.
"Lady Vurkoth fell unconscious shortly following her return from the battlefield, then woke two hours later," replied the thirty-seven-year-old Captain Domias Almazir, "She reported feeling unwell, and Doctor Matan took her to one of the unoccupied quarters. She lost consciousness again shortly thereafter, and has not yet awakened. Doctor Matan reports that his examination indicates her body has lost a critical amount of nutrition and hydration: her medical condition is comparable to someone who has not eaten in ten days and has not had water in fifty-three hours."
"I see," replied the admiral, taking a deep breath to calm himself, and reminded himself that her absence was likely because it was her first time using a power as strong as the one he had sensed used on the battlefield hours ago, "See to it she returns to the Indomitable as soon as she is well enough."
"Understood, admiral," replied the Captain.
The following morning, the Captain walked to the quarters in which his lord's apprentice was recovering and discovered that the medical corpsman Tal Matan was already there, stepping out of the door just as the captain stepped into the hallway. A man of six foot four inches and two hundred twenty pounds, the brown-eyed brunette captain was noticeably larger and more imposing of stature than the corpsman, and in the same kind of uniform that was worn by the admiral, if with obvious differences based on rank.
"Is everything all right, Doctor Matan?"
"Yes, Captain, it was simply a follow-up examination. I saw to it that she has eaten and rehydrated, and then escorted her to the bathing hall so she could cleanse herself of the blood and battle-dust." He had also washed all of N'Lola's clothes, but he doubted the Captain wanted to know about anything of that sort, and he would undoubtedly notice it as soon as he stepped in to speak with the admiral's attaché.
"Good man, making sure she is well-nourished and able to bathe in peace," he praised with a nod. The twenty-seven-year-old nodded in answer and then quickly turned, returning to his other duties as the Captain tapped the button to ring the door. From where she sat, N'Lola stood and stretched her muscles, then took a deep breath before pressing a button on the wall between the quarters' bedroom and entry room.
"Enter," she replied to the faint ringing tone that came when the Captain pressed the button outside the door, and at her press of a button, the door opened for him. The Captain stepped in, stopping as he saw her in the doorway between the two rooms, her clothes freshly washed and pressed, her gauntlet gleaming cleanly as if it had been washed and polished. She looked ready to go to war anew, if the need arose, and he offered a faint smile to the sixteen-year-old, suitably impressed by how she seemed to be handling things, though he had no inkling of what N'Lola had been through, as he was not Force-sensitive.
"My Lady, the admiral wished me to inform you that your presence aboard the Indomitable is expected, once you are feeling well enough to make the transition," the Captain informed her, "Although, that will not be possible for some time, yet, as we are presently in hyperspace, on our way to the Bonadan system."
"The Bonadan system, inhabited by Humans, and…"
"The planet is home to approximately twelve billion residents, of which sixty-three percent are Humans. Of the remainder, eleven percent are Tiss'shar and eight percent are Hiitians; the remaining eighteen percent is diversely spread throughout Duros and numerous other species," he answered, supplying the desired information. She nodded in answer, though she had a good idea of the reason why the admiral had set course for an imperial world instead of waiting for the Empire to assign new imperial soldiers to the ship: he intended to resupply the fleet himself, as usual.
"Thank you, Captain Almazir," she nodded in answer. As they arrived in the Bonadan system, N'Lola took a Delta-class shuttle and returned to the Indomitable, proceeding immediately to the admiral's ready-room, knowing the Sith Lord wished to speak to her, and that a good apprentice would appear as soon as possible.
"Ah, Ricona," said Darth Fralius as she walked in, "Your recovery has gone well, I trust?"
"Yes, Master," she replied with a nod.
"Excellent," he said, "I sensed your hatred and your power; I felt the disturbance in the Force as you tapped into raw emotion. I did not think that you had the power to use Deadly Sight." She could tell he was lying, attempting to challenge her or perhaps attempting to provoke a response, but she played to his pride, his self-confidence, and his expectation of loyalty.
"Thank you, Master. It is all thanks to your excellence as an inspiration," she replied. The admiral smirked in self-satisfaction at her choice of words, and she could tell that her Force Veil was continuing to be effective against him. He would sense nothing but the loyalty and submission that he expected and desired out of her.
"We will be using the imperial forces on Bonadan to resupply and acquire replacement troops," Darth Fralius continued, and she nodded subserviently.
"Master, if I may make one small suggestion?"
"Yes, Ricona?" came the calm response.
"I did some research during our trip to Zygerria in advance of the mission, and I discovered somewhere that I think we could upgrade the fleet. The SPHA-T is large, and slightly outdated. If we replace those we lost with the smaller and more efficient SPMA, we can multiply our artillery load-out by a factor of six. The Self-Propelled Medium Artillery is armed with the same single turbolaser cannon as the SPHA-T, though it requires fewer personnel to operate and is both faster and more nimble on the battlefield. If we switch, we can upgrade from carrying two hundred sixteen heavy artillery units to carrying one thousand two hundred ninety-six medium artillery units. The relative investiture of manpower would increase slightly, but the combat efficiency of ground combat against enemy fortifications would increase by multiplying the number of siege cannons by a factor of six."
"That is an excellent idea, apprentice. I will instruct the Acclamator captains to replace the SPHA-T's with SPMA's," he said with a nod of approval, "Do you have an opinion on the LAAT gunships?"
"They served our needs on the ground exceedingly well, Master, and their support was vital to the Empire's victory on Zygerria," she replied, and he nodded.
"I agree, and you made excellent use of them for your first time as a field commander. Not that I would have expected any less from an elite apprentice who butchered two of that condescending Inquisitor's 'finest warriors,' of course," he observed with a smug smirk. He was still pleased when he remembered the expression of Inquisitor Jerrik, infuriation mingled with stunned disbelief, and the grim resignation to the fact he could do nothing about it.
"It will be your responsibility to interview a portion of imperial soldiers, graduating cadets, or combat-skilled imperial loyalists, who might wish to seek a posting within the fleet. I will be assigning Lieutenant-Commander Nuav, Lieutenant-Commander Xuax, and the Acclamator captains Kul Moath, Tilus Krand, and Mord Quen, of the Wilhelm, the Hammerhead, and the Cutter, to similar purpose," he said, giving N'Lola her most recent orders and informing her of the names of three of his most trusted personnel after her and the Epicanthix twins.
"Yes, Master," she replied, and exited the ready-room at his dismissive motion with his hand, as most of the fleet entered the planetary atmosphere, while leaving the Lancers in a synchronous orbit overhead. It would take them a few weeks' delay, but by the end of it, N'Lola and the Lieutenant Commanders had selected eighteen thousand four hundred and three of the replacements needed to replenish the ranks of the fleet, with seventeen thousand nine hundred and eight of those being Humans. The remaining four hundred and ninety-five were Chistori, mercenaries who proved their intense combat skill well beyond N'Lola's minimum standards by demonstrating their ability to outfight a great many human opponents.
Once they were underway again, one of the Twi'lek communications officers that N'Lola had selected as one of the replacements aboard the Indomitable came to her in private. A woman of five feet eleven inches and one hundred ninety pounds, with skin of a light shade of blue and conical ears, her name was Aerlas'enuia, though she more often replied to Aerla Senuia.
"Lady Vurkoth, a private communique for you," she said as she touched the ringtone for the doorway, then straightened her uniform shirt and waited.
"Enter, Aerla," she replied, moving to stand in the entrance room of her quarters, and motioning to a seat as the communications officer entered. Aerla quickly moved to sit, as N'Lola took a moment to tap into the Force, using it to veil their communications against potential incursion. The Force took on the task of acting as a sort of jammer to interfere with the attempt of any other Force-user to listen in on the conversation within.
"I have received communiques for you, regarding a transition of loyalties among certain individuals aboard the fleet whose loyalties were previously aligned with the Empire, Lady Vurkoth. Specifically," she continued, once the room had been made safe and N'Lola nodded to indicate she could speak, "the Brigade Commanders Trulus Ruun and Dorian Halk aboard the Eternity, and Brigade Commanders Aric Jurat and Rutlan Darr aboard the Hammerhead. Their communiques indicate that following the Battle on the Zygerrian Mesa, many of their men credited their personal survival to your actions, and in secret conference discovered that their entire brigades shared this sentiment. According to their communiques, they wish you to know that you will have their aid and loyalty above all others, as they regard your actions as having saved their lives." N'Lola nodded in answer, and Aerla nodded in turn.
"Also, there was a communique from Doctor Tal Matan, aboard the Intrepid. He requested an update on your medical condition. I took the liberty of assuring him that you are in optimal health at present; he seemed quite pleased with that information," Aerla continued, and N'Lola nodded. If anyone asked why Aerla had come, she would inform them that she had simply been asked to deliver a message of well-wishing from the physician who had overseen her medical care immediately following the conflict on Zygerria. It would make for an excellent cover, a way to ensure it would draw no attention that the Twi'lek communications officer had come to see her, directly.
Shortly thereafter, as N'Lola walked onto the bridge, one of the navigations officers tapped for several brief moments, before turning to look over his shoulder at the admiral.
"Admiral, one hundred ships are exiting hyperspace, roughly one million kilometers starboard," reported the navigations officer, "Forty C-3 passenger liners, sixty Ferryboat liners, admiral."
"We are receiving a communication from one of the C-3's, admiral, text only. Orders, admiral, with imperial codes for verification," followed-up a Twi'lek from one of the communications stations, "We are requested to escort these ships carrying imperial settlers to Rrulinn to colonize the planet. The Reslian Purge has ended, and the Empire wishes the planets recolonized immediately." The admiral lifted an eyebrow, but he offered a faint sigh of exasperation at something that N'Lola could sense he felt was beneath him.
"Very well, instruct the fleet to expand positions into a defensive formation. Order the colonist ships to take positions inside our formation and synchronize flight," the admiral replied with a tone of grudging resignation. Albeit, he could concede that there was every probability they might require an escort for their safety: one hundred unarmed passenger ships would be a ripe target for any space-pirate or anti-imperialist faction, after all, with seventy thousand unarmed civilians aboard them. On the other hand, with an escort of nineteen heavily armed warships, pirates would be unlikely to consider taking on something so heavily defended. It would take them literally across the galaxy, from Sector S-2 to Sector K-17, which meant a lengthy assignment in escorting the passenger fleet.
On the plus side, N'Lola observed, it gave her more time to study the admiral and to practice her lightsaber technique.