Chapter 31
Ten years before the Battle of Yavin
Ear-piercing shrieks penetrate the doors, but the commander remains utterly still. Next to him, his subordinate corporal Heinz twitches with each cry. He pretends not to notice. Officially, he should reprimand her for the breach of self-control, but she's earned some leeway.
Staff officers and admirals discuss the rebels, indifferent to her suffering.
The commander ignores the screams-or tries to; it's not his first time. Privately, he finds it distasteful and always wonders, could I resist? Could I hold out?
An officer glances over, "What are they doing here?"
"They captured the prisoners," another scoffs. "-after altering the admiral's orders."
"Oh, that's rich," the first officer chuckles as his gaze turns frosty.
Fortunately, his helmet conceals the commander's unease.
HMM-mmm-HMM-mmm, a hum interrupts, but he's the only one that hears it.
Suddenly, a hush squashes all conversation. Then the admirals rush to create a path. In this gathering of the sector's most powerful people, no one interferes with the Admiral in white. The blue-skinned alien ignores the officers, storming across the room to confront the stormtroopers. Instantly, a space grows around them as the officers avoid any connection to them, even one implied by proximity.
"Commander…," his glowing red eyes narrow.
Corporal Heinz and the commander snap to attention, "Yes, Admiral Thrawn!"
"AUUUUUHHHHHAAA," a soul-rending scream escapes the interrogation chamber.
The focus of the room crushes them; the officers turn openly hostile.
"Without orders…you detached your squad and marched across the ship's surface, thoroughly unprepared for a spacewalk. You blew the window and assaulted their bridge. You ruined my meticulous planning, jeopardized this operation, and risked your men's lives."
Corporal Heinz intervenes, "Sir, if I-"
"No, you will not, corporal," Thrawn cuts her off. "Your devotion speaks volumes, but the commander must answer for his decisions. What were you thinking?"
HMM-mmm-HMM-mmm, the hum returns. Strangely, it feels reassuring and familiar.
His plan worked perfectly, despite the risk. They had no oxygen tanks; they marched with the air in their helmets and captured the rebel captain! The admiral's response puzzles him.
"It's what the Clone troopers would have done, sir."
"That's ridiculous!" One admiral insists. Another pushes, "We need to set an example!"
"Flogged him!" An officer suggests. "Stormtroopers must not act independently!"
"When we finish with the rebel, we'll put him through the same interrogation!"
During the verbal bombardment, Grand Admiral Thrawn remains absolutely still, his gaze boring a hole through the commander. Finally, Thrawn demands, "Is that all?"
No, but the commander knows less is more for troopers. The Empire does not care about our opinions. Eventually, he declares, "Our troops were getting slaughtered, and our orders were to capture or kill the rebels. The surprise attack collapsed their defenses and captured them. It was not insubordination, but a split-second opportunity beyond command's vision."
HMM-mmm-HMM-mmm, yet again, the calming hum interrupts.
"Incidentally, I planned for their escape. An agent placed trackers on their shuttle. When they fled, they would lead us to the rebel base, known only to the leader we're interrogating."
"AAAHHHhhuuu," she screams.
The commander licks his lips, hidden behind his stormtrooper helmet. Then admits, "Sir, they didn't surrender until we threatened the pilot. She fought until we grabbed him."
Thrawn points at his aide with lightning-quick reflexes, who runs to a console. Whispered conversation swallows the aide's voice, but soon troopers arrive with the pilot.
"You'll never get anything from me! I'd rather die!"
They create a path for him to reach the interrogation chamber, and the doors whisk open, revealing the horror within. The rebel captain hangs on a rack as an interrogation droid hovers nearby. The ISB agent glares, "What's the meaning of this interruption?
"Noooo, what are you doing?" The captain mumbles, only becoming alert once she spots the pilot. "Stop! Stop!"
The doors whoosh shut as the young man screams, "No! NO! NAAAAAgh!"
"Stop! Stop!" The captain screams herself hoarse, wailing. "I'll talk, stop, please stop."
"Excellent work," Thrawn compliments. Beyond him, officers glare enviously. "Skillful leaders are rare, but make certain your initiative doesn't interfere with my objective."
"Yes, sir!"
The admiral continues, "Commander, have you ever heard of Zero-G Assault Troopers?"
To his shock, the imperial officers glare with naked hatred.
A tap, and the commander wakes. Vee hovers over him, casting a shadow from the bright noon sunlight. A single outstretched tentacle pokes his helmet again. Soaking wet, he lies on the beach near a tropical jungle and pushes the tentacle away.
Vee hums, HMM-mmm-HMM-mmm.
The commander shakes his head and asks, "Were you singing to me?"
Vee looks away shamefully while the other probe droids turn towards him. The commander shakes off his grogginess, "You know what? Fine. It's fine."
Nearby, Doctor Wither and Gary are staring into the distance. The Commander climbs to his feet, his mind dull and a headache throbbing from lack of sleep. He follows their gaze to Research Station 9, where a great fire burns, visible from over a kilometer away.
"Is that an X-wing?" He demands. "The battle was hours ago. What happened?"
"It looks bad, sir," Gary hands him the rangefinders and points.
"Get off the beach," he orders harshly. "Take cover in the woods."
They rush to the treeline, hiding behind a massive trunk. The vipers follow them, sinking lower as they spread their tentacles to hide among the bushes.
He looks through the rangefinder again, watching a death trooper move among the ruins of a rebel shuttle. The trooper stops, raises his carbine, and blasts a body. A moment passes as the others pause, watching their comrade before the search continues for survivors.
"Sir, look at the tarp," Dr. Wither directs.
He can't see it, so he inches to the opposite side of the enormous tree. He follows Wither's directions before spotting an exposed arm. The commander stands up for a better view and zooms the rangefinders. Then he sees the pile of bodies.
A chill rushes through the commander, and he shivers. Images of the mass grave he crawled out of return—the stench. The gagging, choking, fetid air made every breath a rasping struggle. The commander closes his eyes, forcing the memory to the back of his mind.
"How many?" He asks to keep his mind working and ignore his headache.
"The dead?" Dr. Wither inquires. "No way to know without getting closer."
"Sorry, I should have specified. I meant the death troopers."
"Three," Gary guesses. "I think the leader is checking the dead."
Wither corrects. "Four, one near the door, his weapon is in the sniper configuration. He's on overwatch, but four couldn't do this. I'd estimate there was a garrison of forty here."
The commander examines the area for a moment before he spots the Zeta's cannons, "Look, they used the Zetas to blast the transport; they didn't lock down the cannons afterward."
"Soooo," Gary interjects. "No chance they're friendlies?"
"I know one way to be certain," he replies before glancing at the vipers. "You two return to the compound. Stay together and move carefully; we need everyone."
Both vipers salute with a tentacle before rising through the trees. The commander motions Vee closer, and the droid responds instantly, "Can you contact the compound?"
Vee beeps rapidly, and Gary translates, "Vee says station 9 is jamming communication, but we're outside of it. Sir, he detected a ship scanning us soon after we arrived at the shore. An X-wing is patrolling the base beyond its weapon's range. Vee thinks it's a survivor."
"We'll deal with that in a moment. Vee, contact Lt. Diggs."
A few minutes and rapid beeping pass before a light flickers on the probe droid's undercarriage, and suddenly a hologram of the death trooper appears shrouded in blue.
"Sir, is it true? There's a team of death troopers there? The garrison is dead?"
"Yes."
Diggs hesitates, an unusual display from the officer before he makes his decision. Then he declares, "Sir, I can't stress this enough. If they catch you, those troopers will kill you. We move in secrecy. Any witnesses, even imperial, are eliminated. They would kill me, even though we wear the same armor. Our training conditions our loyalty to singular people and the ISB, even if our orders appear contrary to the Empire's benefit. Your rank and status won't protect you."
"There's four standing in the open," Wither informs him.
He stiffens, thinking, "Sir, you should abort. There's another ship, somewhere else."
"There's no time for that," the commander decides immediately and checks his rifle.
"With a garrison that size, plus the rebels, we're talking about an entire squad—a minimum of three teams. One team remained with the objective, another on standby in support of the first, just inside the building. That's thirteen death troopers with a commander. Even a planetary Moff or sector ISB can't muster that many. They're in the open, which implies this operation is the highest priority. Every last trooper will fight to the death and not even ask why."
The commander folds his arms, and Diggs sighs. Gary nods before checking his carbine.
Wither looks at them and demands, "What? What am I missing?"
"He has to know," Gary laughs with a hint of panic. "It's dumb, but so do I."
"The Grand Commander can't let this go," Lt. Diggs insists. "Can you, sir?"
"Thirteen death troopers can collapse governments or squash a local rebellion in days," he growls. "Command decided this is more important than fighting the rebels. Why?"
Wither snaps, "It doesn't matter! We're putting everything we've accomplished at risk!"
Diggs recommends, "Don't take the ship at the edge of the base. Choose one closer or at random within the central area. They won't sabotage every ship; it takes too long."
"Sir!" Wither hisses, then lowers her voice. "Sir, let's take the ship and go."
"We're augmented, but we were elite before modding," Diggs warns. "Sir, are you sure?"
"After everything we've done-we've endured," the commander snarls. "I need to know why! I want an answer, why does this station matter but NOT US!"