AN: Here's a fic that no one asked for, that no one expected, and starring a character that I don't think has ever gotten much attention.
However, here it is, inspired by "Triumvirate" by TheNoblestRoman. Although I must honestly admit that ever since I started learning about the fate of the Galactic Empire in Legends, this power has undergone agony, fragmentation, and finally transformed into the Fel Empire. Ever since I learned a lot of these sometimes wonderful and sometimes absurd stories, a question has arisen in my mind: what would happen if one of the Joint Chiefs of the Imperial Military had survived the destruction of the first Death Star?
To answer this question, I chose the most absurd concept, in which Admiral Motti survived, but used this experience to become a better commander and use his full potential. I wonder if this will convince you and if you will consider it worth your time?
39:3 GrS
How much can a single individual change in such a short period of time, which is undoubtedly less than 4 years? Thought an officer of the Imperial Navy, with great physical strength, who was walking through the corridors of a large battle station that in a few days would bring the final annihilation of the rebellion.
This officer was quite lucky that he was able to survive a specific event from almost 4 standard years ago, which was the destruction of the Death Star. One of the greatest works in the history of all known civilization was destroyed in an equally great event. All this just a few days after the great launch of the battle station, after a spectacular show of power, which a few days later turned into a spectacular failure.
The Battle of Yavin over 3 years ago, the unofficial beginning of the Galactic Civil War and the darkest day in the history of the Galactic Empire. For some it's a new beginning and a symbol of great hope, for others it's a disaster. The cataclysm that ignited the spark of rebellion. However, for others, it was a day that changed their lives forever. In some cases, once and for all and for the better.
He was once an arrogant and unswervingly loyal admiral of the Imperial Navy. The Head of Naval Operations while serving aboard the Death Star changed beyond recognition that day. Just one decision was enough to change everything, seemingly for the worse, much worse. Especially considering how much the incident preceding the battle could have cost Conan Antonio Motti.
"Are you suggesting betrayal of the Emperor, Admiral Motti? I think you have been blinded by the power of this weapon, though it may be more than just that. Regardless, I will take care about this, once we have crushed the rebellion." Conan remembered the last words of the Grand Moff Tarkin to him.
This was all part of the Outer Rim Grand Moff's response. All this in response to the Admiral's suggestions of using the Death Star to take over the Galaxy and replace Emperor Palpatine. Conan undoubtedly underestimated Tarkin's loyalty, and as a result, at best, he could have been stripped of his position, and at worst, his extremely suggestive choice of words could have cost the young admiral the lives of the young admiral and his sisters.
"Whoever controls the Death Star can control the galaxy." The Admiral remembered his own words that had almost cost him almost everything he had gained in life.
However, as it soon turned out, the suggestive choice of words turned out to be what saved his life and took it to a completely new stage.
Conan, following the Grand Moff's decision, was returned to command the fleet that had previously served as escort to the Death Star. The fleet which had been dispersed by order of the admiral, and over which he was to take temporary command. Admiral Motti had not the slightest doubt that this would all happen until he was stripped of his command. What would happen next was a matter of pure speculation, as Tarkin never had the opportunity to punish him or inform anyone that such a conversation had ever taken place.
The destruction of the Death Star, DS-1 Orbital Battle Station, was a huge shock to everyone. However, on the sidelines was the issue of the deaths of over one million personnel. The loss of soldiers, pilot technicians and officers was all the more painful because they were some of the best in the empire whose lives ended in less than a fraction of a second
Conan was also bewildered by this, even to no end. It is safe to say that as soon as he received the news about the destruction of this huge structure, his entire world collapsed, as did all the foundations of his previous worldview. The best proof of this was the fact that a few hours after receiving the news, the admiral locked himself in his quarters, without leaving any instructions to his subordinates as to what to do next.
However, these few hours were enough for me to make the decision that led me to today, and which I will never regret. Conan thought, then his left hand moved to the chrome rank plaque above his left chest. Other fools would crumble at the collapse of their entire world, all their beliefs and everything they believed in. But instead, I moved forward, vowing to be a better version of myself. That I will never again rely solely on politics and family connections to get ahead. That I will be loyal until the end. That I would never again be blinded by the power of a single structure, no matter how powerful it looked. At last, I will be worthy of the imperial officer's uniform I have worn since graduating from the academy at the age of 22.
The chrome plaque with the rank received over a year ago was the best proof to confirm the redacted declaration that Conan made to himself. A two-row rank, with a row of six blue squares at the top, followed by a row of five red squares and finally one yellow square. High Admiral Motti, doesn't sound that bad and is a reminder of my long journey.
Although it could be perceived as a sign of pride, or even arrogance in an extreme interpretation, it would be far from the truth. Conan actually mentioned the toil and hard work that was absolutely necessary to get him where he is now, approaching step by step towards the elevator leading to the throne room.
Immediately after recovering, choosing a new path and gaining new determination to serve the Galactic Empire, Conan began to work on himself more and more intensively. The first manifestation of this was an immediate move to the Yavin system to establish a blockade over the fourth moon of the gas giant. During the voyage, Conan's fleet took on board Lord Vader, who survived the clash, and even now the memory of him made the High Admiral nervously straighten his collar. Even while marching to meet the Emperor and the Sith Lord.
From the time of Blockade of Yavin to the present day, Conan took part in many battles, gaining vast combat experience and benefiting from the example of High General Cassio Tagge, who became a posthumous mentor for him, but not the only one. Conan's other mentors - with whom he collaborated very often in the past - were Grand Admirals Rufaan Tigellinus and Demetrius Zaarin. The latter until he was defeated by a certain blue-skinned officer who was not human.
Thrawn. Conan grimaced at the mere mention of the alien - Chiss - and although he was not fanatically committed to the ideals of human-centrism and discrimination of alien species in the Empire, he felt an instinctive revulsion and even contempt for them. The less I think about it, the better.
Cassio Tagge - posthumously - taught Conan caution and the ability to carefully analyze and assess risks, Rufaan Tigellinus many useful political skills and effective management of subordinate resources, while Demetrius Zaarin appreciated the importance of developing new technologies to impose at least the initiative on the opponent in this field. The latter also almost ruined the High Admiral's career due to their connections and collaboration on the designs of the new TIEs. However, assisting Lord Vader and then-Vice Admiral Thrawn in helping the Emperor undoubtedly saved Conan's life, along with his career.
Thanks to this, he was able to fulfill all the resolutions from 4 years ago. Definitely, he has become a better version of himself. He had come a long way from an ordinary Admiral to a High Admiral. He never used his family connections again, but acquired everything thanks to his own skills. While many other pathetic and well-born officers - even better than Conan himself - tried to take advantage of their family connections, it made little difference. Not when faced with the need to demonstrate your skills and the chaos of an absolutely unpredictable battlefield. At that moment, he remembered with disgust a certain mustachioed admiral who had rightly been force-choked before Lord Vader.
But he, Conan Antonio Motti, never needed it again. He proved his worth and skills, everything he now had and over which he supervised, he received thanks to his merits and skills. First, command of the former Death Star escort, and eventually and after being supplemented by the Super Star Destroyer Executor, transformed into a Death Squadron. By co-command of a squadron intended to fight the Rebel Alliance and eternally tormented in arguments with the equally clumsy and stupid Admiral Kendal Ozzel. Until he received a promotion to one of the highest ranks in the Imperial Navy and on this occasion the title of Warlord of the Empire, which apart from him was awarded to a very small group of people, such as High Admiral Zsinj. A title that granted the High Admiral his own fiefdom, which consisted of 10 sectors.
The memory of this boosted his confidence and made him quicken his pace, as did the 7 guards with him. They all wore black and white armor with black half-suits, with the predominance of white over black, which was very sparingly used in the design of the armor, which was clearly different from the armor of regular stormtroopers.
The group passed a few more turns and doors leading to the various command and surveillance rooms of this section of the battle station, and then they reached the elevator. There, two other officers, one of whom was his friend, were already waiting for the Tall Man.
"Admiral Piett." Conan spoke loudly as he approached them step by step. "Moff Jerjerrod."
"Zi." Tiaan turned to him with a friendly smile and was the first to respond to his greeting, using his nickname as the High Admiral. "Good to see you."
"High Admiral." Firmus Piett greeted his formal superior much more formally. "I trust Deathgiver is already in the system."
Conan stopped in front of them and his guards stood behind him among the metallic corridors in front of the elevator. The mention of the name of his flagship forced him to answer. "I wouldn't be here otherwise, Admiral. I have no intention of going anywhere without a ship and its crew in whom I have complete confidence. The exception could be an order from some higher authority."
Deathgiver had a quite appropriate and respectable name. It was a ship commissioned and developed by Conan himself, who believed that large structures like the Star Dreadnoughts Executor and Assertor were too much firepower, while Bellator-class ships might be insufficient, despite their undoubted mobility. The result of this thought, which then led to a close collaboration with Kuat Drive Yards, was the Mandator III-class Star Dreadnought. The ship was 12,000 meters long, resembling a spearhead, very well armed and equipped with shield deflectors that rivaled the Executor class. In addition, powerful engines and the ability to accommodate not a single but two legions of stormtroopers, with walkers, transports and 18 squadrons of starfighters, each with 12 ships.
The Deathgiver, although no longer the only Mandator III-class Star Dreadnought, was still a formidable ship with great power, much cheaper than the Executioner, and a source of pride for the High Admiral.
"However, I did not bring only my flagship here, Admiral." Conan continued and crossed his arms behind his back. "To Endor, I also brought Hunter, Crusher, Tarkin, Catalyst, Cassio, Wulf, Siward, Trech, Hurst and Moradmin."
"A single Interdictor Star Destroyer, 3 Imperial II-class Star Destroyers and 6 Victory II-class Star Destroyers."
"Exactly, Admiral." Conan nodded as the names of all these ships reminded him of how many of the ships produced in the shipyards of his fiefdom were named after officers who died on DS-1. "Now though, let's not keep the Emperor waiting."
After these words, Motti ordered his guards to stay here and he went inside without unnecessary words. The other two officers did likewise. Even before the elevator started moving, Conan straightened his muscular chest, making sure he looked as presentable as possible.
There was undoubtedly one trait that High Admiral Motti retained, and that was his resolute unwillingness to become like some of the Imperial admirals and other senior officers. Fat and lazy. For this reason, Conan performed regular exercises that kept him in excellent physical condition. Fortunately, none of the trio fit into the lazy or fat categories. They were in their prime, and it would be a long time before they would begin to age seriously.
The elevator ride up took several dozen long seconds, although the reason was not easy to determine. It could have been a matter of focusing and waiting. On the other hand, it could undoubtedly also have been a matter of the people they were supposed to meet.
First of all, the Emperor, according to them the most powerful being in the history of the entire galaxy. In addition, the Emperor's advisors, each of whom had enough power and influence to ruin the careers of most of the three officers. The exception to this was Conan, thanks to his numerous contributions during the fight against the rebellion, his unquestioning loyalty, and his help in defeating Grand Admiral Zaarin.
The last person to be present at the meeting was a certain cyborg dressed in black armor.
Vader. Conan nervously adjusted the high collar of his uniform at the very mention of it, which did not go unnoticed by the two officers accompanying him. So many years have passed, so much time, and I still can't get this moment out of my mind when the Sith showed me his power. Although I don't think it showed even a fraction of his capabilities.
"You're nervous, Zi." He was pulled out of his thoughts by the voice of his longtime friend. "Did something happen?"
"Just one unfortunate memory." Conan replied briefly, his posture making it clear that it was only temporary. "Let's continue."
He said the last thing just as the elevator stopped and the door to the throne room opened. Thus showing a monumental but at the same time modest room, focused primarily on functionality.
The trio moved forward, towards the dais and the throne, where the Emperor himself and his entourage were waiting for them. As they did so, the three officers unceremoniously passed two guardsmen in crimson armor.
They arrived before the Emperor, his advisors, and Lord Vader himself in a matter of moments, and then gave the ruler of the Empire the respect he deserved. Only then did the meeting begin, during which strategy for the battle against the Rebel Alliance would be discussed and established.
For the most part, the Emperor remained silent, allowing everyone else to speak. and possibly directing the conversation in the direction that suited him best. Everyone else was supposed to fight among themselves over whose opinion would be pushed through.
Just like during the meetings of the Ruling Council. Conan thought, although that didn't mean he was particularly happy about it. Although the method according to which the ruler is above his subordinates and they have to fight for his favor seems to be reasonable. However, is this an adequate management method in this case?
Despite their doubts, Conan, Piett and Tiaan were most active as naval officers. Finally, a battle plan was established, which did not raise any major controversy and was accepted by Lord Vader. However, Conan had some doubts about just one thing.
"My Lord Emperor, gentlemen, Lord Vader." He spoke, drawing the attention of everyone present. "If I may, I have my doubts as to whether the Executor will be adequate as a flagship in battle."
The Emperor moved slightly on his throne, most notably tilting his grim gaze at him. And eyes full of emotions that Conan couldn't quite name. "What do you mean, High Admiral Motti?"
Darth Vader couldn't be read because of his helmet, but even now he radiated an unpleasant amount of energy. The advisors seemed more intrigued than annoyed by this remark. Meanwhile, Admiral Piett and Moff Jerjerrod shot him confused glances from behind him.
"Let me tell you straight, My Lord Emperor. The Executor, despite possessing great firepower, is absolutely unsuitable as a flagship due to its essentially non-existent defense against starfighters." Came his calm explanation, although Lord Vader's glare was so intense that Conan had to refrain from stroking his collar. "Accordingly, I propose that the Deathgiver be the flagship of Task Force Endor."
No one said anything for several moments, only the loud inhales and exhales of Lord Vader's helmet piercing the silence, until the Emperor smiled and chuckled, as if understanding the High Admiral's intention. "Do you want full command of the battle and the opportunity to take the glory for this great victory over this so-called Rebel Alliance, High Admiral Motti?"
"No, My Lord Emperor, I am simply stating the fact that the Deathgiver, especially with the protection of the several Star Destroyers I have taken here, will be much better suited to this role than the large and vulnerable Executor." Conan continued to speak calmly and with complete sincerity. "If there's anything the past has taught me, it's that even one right person in the wrong place can make a huge difference and change everything. Even, against all odds and all probabilities. This is the reason for my proposal, nothing more and nothing less."
There was silence in the throne room for a brief moment, and the Emperor seemed to consider this for a moment. This continued until Lord Vader spoke up. "The High Admiral is right, the Executor is too large and too sensitive a target, despite having powerful shields. The rebels are a security that should not be underestimated."
The Imperial Advisors exchanged glances as Conan glanced furtively and subtly towards the Sith who had begun to observe him, and Lord Vader's gaze seemed almost piercing through him. Despite this, Conan did not lose his calm, nor did he try to be provocative towards the Sith. He remembered all too well that moment during the conference where Conan had been saved from death only by the intervention of Grand Moff Tarkin. Once again, the High Admiral had to refrain from almost instinctively stroking his collar.
Although Conan didn't consider himself a coward, and beyond a shadow of a doubt he wasn't. Nevertheless, it could be seen as a sign of cowardice. Regardless, Conan remembered all too well that moment when he was so close to death, and he doubted he would ever be able to shake that fear.
"Be that as it may, the Deathgiver will become the flagship of Task Force Endor, and Admiral Piett will be transferred to that ship." The Emperor had made the final decision on this matter and no one was going to argue with it, absolutely. "To Executor as commander, Grand Admiral Osvald Teshik will be transferred."
There was nothing more to discuss, so the Emperor rose from his throne and announced to all gathered: "Soon, the great day will come for the Empire, the Rebellion will be finally crushed and the dark side of the Force will finally triumph, I have no doubt about it. We will bask in the glow of victory!"
Conan stood at attention with dignity in response to the Emperor's words, and then a short reply came from his lips. "Long live the Empire!"
"Long live the Empire!" Firmus, Tiaan and all the advisors gathered in the hall responded. The exceptions to this were Vader and the Emperor.
"That's all we were going to discuss regarding the battle, now leave us." The Emperor's words were undoubtedly addressed to both the officers and Lord Vader.
A few moments later, the four headed to the elevator while the advisors remained in the throne room. Undoubtedly, they were to inform the Emperor of progress in the areas of the Empire for which they were responsible.
After leaving the elevator, the officers went their separate ways, as each of them had their own Lambda shuttles in different hangars of the battle station. So Conan ordered his personal guard to follow him, and he said goodbye to his fellow officers and headed for the hangar assigned to his ship.
Conan quickly began to consider the shape of the coming battle. Until he and his guards were literally frozen in place, unable to change position. High Admiral Motti didn't even need to turn around to know who was stopping him and his men.
"Vader." Conan said it as if it were some worst possible curse, but he had no intention of even being intimidated. "It's pointless, lord."
"I don't think so." First there was a voice, and then the helmeted mask became easier to hear as the dark lord approached their current position.
The moment the thud of boots on the durasteel floor stopped, Conan and his men were turned by the force towards the dark lord. Fortunately, all of the High Admiral's guards positioned themselves so that he could speak to the Sith face to face.
"What's the point of all this?"
After Conan's question, his guards were released but immediately took up a defensive position around their commander. They thus aimed their powerful, heavy DLT-19 blaster rifles at the Sith.
"Lower your weapons and get to the ferry immediately." An unexpected order came from High Admiral Motti. "You have no chance against Lord Vader, and a short conversation is not worth your lives."
"Yes, High Admiral." The answer came from the commander of his guard, a Commander from the previous era and already old but still brave.
CC-2224, now DT1-0100, or Cody as he was often called, gave the order in accordance with Conan's wishes, and shortly thereafter, a squad of black and white guards left the pair. The Sith and the Imperial Navy officer were left alone.
"It looks like your elite death troopers project has fully worked." Lord Vader stated neutrally. "Interesting that you selected former veterans of the Grand Army of the Republic from the Clone Wars to serve in the division and cybernetically augment them."
"I heard that veterans of that conflict would like to join the fight against the next generation of separatists, and many of them are stuck in military academies as instructors. This didn't even include those still serving as frontline soldiers in the Stormtrooper Corps, if they managed to gain entry into the corps. Personally, and as someone who remembers the Clone Wars and the veterans of that conflict who fought for peace and order in the galaxy, I felt it was fully justified to give these heroes a new chance. " Conan replied neutrally, but was surprised by the dark lord's subtlety. "What is the purpose of this conversation, Lord Vader?"
"Congratulations to you, High Admiral." The Sith replied without even the slightest thought. "I remember perfectly this arrogant, arrogant, but full of potential admiral. A man who embellished reports and got a high position solely because of his family connections. You have come a long way and made the most of the opportunity the Emperor gave you, despite your willingness to betray him and use the Death Star to do so."
Conan stopped dead in his tracks at this accusation, especially because it was so completely true that he had no reason to deny it. "The Emperor knows?"
"He found out immediately after your direct interrogation when he used the Force to see into your mind." Vader stated this offhandedly and clearly enjoying Conan's internal struggle before showing shock. "Yet you have become a loyal and valuable officer of the Imperial Navy. Your loyalty and devotion to the Empire has been rewarded and will be rewarded again and again if you remain loyal."
"I'm not even going to think about betrayal, ever again." Conan stated firmly. "If that's all, Lord Vader, I must return to Deathgiver."
"Go and rest, before the battle you will need all your strength to achieve victory, High Admiral." The Sith Lord replied before walking past Conan, no doubt intending to go to his own Lambda shuttle.
Conan, meanwhile, stood there for a few more moments, contemplating it all. On the one hand, he was terrified that the Emperor had found out about his old plans of betrayal. On the other hand, he was full of pride and a sense of duty fulfilled that he made full use of the opportunity given to him by one man and fate. He had no intention of wasting this chance.
He soon reunited with his guard on a personal shuttle, and they returned aboard the Deathgiver, where Conan retired to his quarters and took a long sleep. The most important moment of the last few months, perhaps even of the entire war, was approaching, but High Admiral Conan Antonio Motti had no intention of letting anything pass him by or lead to his defeat.
After over 8 hours of sleep, he met with Admiral Piett, who had been transferred to Deathgiver. They talked for several dozen minutes about the plan for the decisive battle. Conan, although he showed no emotion about it, had doubts that this was the best course of action. The plan left many loopholes that seemed to assume the enemy's inability to adapt to combat.
Perhaps it's just me being overly cautious. Regardless, I intend to fulfill my duty as any loyal son of the Galactic Empire would. With this resolution, he coordinated the withdrawal of the fleet to the edge of the system, awaiting the rebels.
XXX
"I knew how many things could go wrong, but this is just pathetic." Conan addressed these words to Admiral Piett, who stood next to him on the Deathgiver bridge.
They both watched with ever-increasing horror as the Executor, after destroying the command bridge and navigation systems, began to be pulled by the Death Star's gravity. This marked the end of the most powerful ship on the battlefield, one of the two Star Dreadnoughts present, and the death of the Grand Admiral on board. Although Osvald Teshik was disgraced after losing the battle against the Hapes Consortium fleet, he was still one of the Empire's greatest commanders.
Both officers were snapped out of their shock only when the ship crashed onto the surface of a large orbital battle station. Conan and Firmus exchanged unequivocal glances in response to the incident.
"It appears that your decision to transfer me to Deathgiver saved my life, High Admiral." Admiral Piett stated, his voice trembling.
"It will be meaningless if our fleet is destroyed, especially this ship." Conan kept his cool and narrowed his eyes so that they seemed to express only steel and promise death to all enemies of the Empire. "Even though we lost one of the most powerful ships and the Grand Admiral, it doesn't change anything."
However, the reports that soon began to arrive seemed to be the complete opposite of his claims. First of all, reports of a sudden drop in the effectiveness of TIEs pilots and turbolaser gunners, not to mention the widespread decline in morale among ship crews. In just a few dozen minutes, what should have been an easy victory turned into an extremely expensive bottomless hole that constantly consumed more resources and lives.
"We can't keep fighting like this." The High Admiral looked his lower-ranking superior straight in the eye. "We must contact Moff Jerjerrod immediately and with the Emperor."
Admiral Piett merely nodded, then turned to the officer in charge of communications with the new order. A few moments later, the duo of Conan and Firmus were talking to the Death Star commander, who definitely didn't have the same nerve of steel as they did.
"I don't know what to do, I have no contact with the throne room, nor with the other three Grand Admirals!" Moff Jerjerrod was panicking, and with very good reason. "Nial Declann disappeared moments after communication with the Emperor was lost and we can't find him anywhere! Meanwhile, Miltin Takel and Afsheen Makati have simply escaped from the battle station, which is currently in complete chaos! The staff is trying to rob the ferries to get out of here as fast as possible! That's not even counting the rebels whose starfighters have managed to fly inside the Death Star and are on their way to destroying the structure!"
Conan and Firmus exchanged a quick glance, and then High Admiral Motti spoke. "Tiaan, calm down and give the order to evacuate."
"The emperor gave us orders." A shaky Moff Jerjerrod spoke, clearly conflicted and timid. "In my case, it is the destruction of Endor, and the rebels."
Conan was shocked to discover that the Emperor had given him such an order, but he had no intention of dying here. Especially in the face of the ongoing Galactic Civil War, which will undoubtedly soon flare up with even greater force than before. And if the Emperor is dead...
Conan didn't even want to think too much about the implications of his thoughts, and instead directed all his efforts towards immediate action and taking control of the situation. "Admiral Piett, do you approve of him taking command of Task Force Endor?"
"What are you planning, High Admiral?" Piett asked him, completely surprised by such a request.
Conan didn't answer right away, and instead his eyes went to the ongoing battle and another Star Destroyer that had been destroyed by Rebel pilots and torn apart from the inside by internal explosions.
"I have seen a similar situation before, and I intend to order the evacuation of the battle station given the circumstances." Conan looked at the battle station. "It is more than obvious that this structure will soon be destroyed. It's inevitable, so either we take our staff from there and the moon, or we will suffer losses comparable to those of a few years ago."
Then the High Admiral's eyes turned to the lower ranking officer. "Can I take command?"
"If you have an idea, I don't see a better solution." Admiral Piett had no intention of hindering something that could have saved the lives of as many Imperial personnel as possible. "Should I coordinate the fleet and contact General Veers?"
"Immediately, have him begin the immediate evacuation of all ground personnel." Conan nodded in confirmation. "I will take care of the evacuation of the battle station myself."
"Can I count on you, Moff Jerjerrod?"
Tiaan was clearly surprised that his longtime friend used his rank and surname instead of his name. "Yes, sir, I will issue instructions immediately."
"Very well, that leaves one more thing to consider." Conan then turned back and his eyes fell on one particular officer. "Commander Needa!"
Said officer very quickly approached the High Admiral and saluted. "Sir?"
"Have Deathgiver escorts reinforce their tightness and fire, immediately." Conan spoke to the officer whose life he had managed to save from Lord Vader following the chase through Hoth. "We will release all our squadrons of TIE Avengers to reinforce the fleet. We will soon begin preparations for retreat."
"Yes sir." Commander Lorth Needa saluted obediently and then went to carry out the orders of his superior, to whom he owed a debt of gratitude, as quickly as possible.
Before his promotion to the rank of High Admiral, Conan participated in the pursuit of the Millennium Falcon, which cost Death Squadron several Star Destroyers. Mainly because of the asteroids flying into the field. However, when Conan learned that the then-Captain, Lorth Needa, was heading aboard the Executor with a personal apology to Lord Vader. Motti immediately contacted the Captain and strongly advised him not to come aboard the Star Dreadnought due to the possibility of receiving extremely severe disciplinary measures.
To this day, neither Conan nor Commander Needa knew whether something like this could have happened, but neither of them preferred to find out. Meanwhile, High Admiral Motti decided to recruit a man who served during the Clone Wars and became famous during the Battle of Coruscant.
As for the battle, Task Force Endor was increasingly pushed back and lost several more Star Destroyers, including 2 Tector Star Destroyers. Nevertheless, the rebel fleet - despite a clear decline in the effectiveness of pilots and officers, which was incomprehensible to Imperial officers - also suffered significant losses. Meanwhile, the TIE Avengers sent into battle wreaked great havoc and became a tough nut for enemy pilots.
Most importantly, however, the evacuation began to bring the expected results very quickly. First of all, shuttles began to depart from the moon of Endor, from all outposts, over and over again. First base personnel, then soldiers and ground vehicles. From the Death Star itself, shuttles and TIEs that had not yet been sent into combat also began to emerge intermittently. There was quite a lot of it all.
Observing all this and overseeing the evacuations along with the battle, High Admiral Motti couldn't help but turn his attention once again to the DS-2.
An even larger and more powerful version of the DS-1. Even if it is not fully completed, it is still a huge and majestic structure, and yet... When one has seen up close and walked on the deck of the first, let alone seen the remains... I can't help but wonder how much other types of ships or machines we could build? Conan thought darkly. Even in the moment of combat, this battle station - like many other special projects - absorbs countless resources of the Empire. All these people and materials could be used more rationally. However, on the other hand, this powerful station genuinely had the potential to restore order and stability to the galaxy. As someone who once participated in this project and then experienced bitter disappointment due to its spectacular failure, I have no doubt about it. But still…
Conan shook his head. This is not a good time for this type of analysis. This is a time to focus on what is most important to the galaxy and the Empire at this moment. Retreat from a battle that turns from an easy victory into a complete disaster from one minute to the next.
So he looked away from the large structure to return to managing the evacuation, but was met by Commander Need approaching him.
"High Admiral, the shuttle carrying Moff Jerjerrod has just taken off and is heading to Deathgiver."
Conan was satisfied with the report, and he now knew that his friend from the Imperial Academy was safe unless the rebels decided to attack.
"I understand, Commander." High Admiral Motti turned and looked directly at the great forest moon of Endor. "Have General Veers and his contingent been evacuated?"
"Not yet, sir, his troops are currently engaged in fierce fighting with rebels supported by the natives."
"Ewoks?" Conan was close to scoffing and finding it absurd, but after everything he had seen in his life, nothing seemed so unlikely that it couldn't happen. "Never mind, I don't even want to know how the rebels managed to convince that wild beast to help me. Regardless, the evacuation must be completed as soon as possible."
"We're doing everything we can, Sir." Commander Needa replied calmly. "However, the ongoing fight definitely makes it more difficult."
"Unfortunate. Very unfortunate, but not unexpected and certainly not impossible to predict."
"Yes, sir. Additionally, I would like to report that the rebel fleet is clearly withdrawing from orbit of the battle station and our scanners have recorded numerous explosions inside the station."
"Started." Conan paled a little at this information, but it had to happen eventually. "Let the shuttles evacuate the station immediately and I don't care if all personnel haven't been evacuated yet."
Commander Needa visibly flinched at these words. "But sir, we still have over 300,000 people on board. Though…"
"If they don't start immediately, we will suffer unnecessary losses that can easily be avoided." Conan felt that his ship's commander needed a clear reminder that they could no longer save everyone at this point. "This is an order I must give with a heavy heart."
The officer was clearly not happy about this, but he was forever indebted to Conan and had no intention of opposing it. "Yes, High Admiral."
For his part, Conan looked back at the battle station to see that his subordinate's report was as accurate as it could be. The rebels fled from the range of the battle station's explosion, which occurred a few moments later.
The station exploded, and the resulting flash lit up the battlefield, reaching the farthest reaches of the system.
The vibrations from the explosion reached the command ship of Task Force Endor and were so strong that High Admiral Motti was nearly knocked off his feet. Admiral Piett, sitting in the recess, fell to the ground, as did several other officers and technicians.
The chaos was quickly brought under control, and after a while High Admiral Motti demanded a report, which was nothing surprising. Although all the shuttles managed to escape, tens of thousands of people loyal to the Empire still remained on the battle station at the time of the explosion. Upon fully realizing this, Conan's vision darkened and he vowed to himself that he would avenge all those killed in this manner, just as he intended to avenge all those killed in the destruction of DS-1.
At least I managed to save hundreds of thousands of others who may fight for the Empire in the future and perhaps tip the scales in our favor. This thought made Conan relax significantly, and he turned to the staff.
"Is Moff Jerjerrod on board yet?"
"I'm here, High Admiral!" From down the hall, a seemingly calm but obviously tense voice came. Additionally, his forehead was enriched with a bruise on the left side. "It seems I'm the second person on this command bridge... sorry, the third one to owe you a debt of gratitude."
"It won't matter if the rebels destroy this fleet and get our heads." Conan replied dryly and unsentimentally. "Moff Jerjerrod, supervise the evacuation of General Veers' contingent from the planet. I must focus on the battle at the moment."
The High Admiral did not even wait for confirmation from his friend, and instead focused his full attention on the battlefield, which ceased to play this role for the next hour. Instead, it became a graveyard for hundreds of thousands. Rebels and Imperials.
Conan had not the slightest doubt that this undeclared truce would not last longer than both sides reorganized. Having said this, he gave the order to immediately occupy the defensive formation.
The optimistic fact was that as a result of the fight and despite the considerable losses on the side of the Endor Task Force, they were not inferior in numbers to the enemy. In fact, High Admiral Motti was slightly outnumbered at this point. However, if you take into account the huge and irrational decline in combat capabilities and morale among the fleet personnel, it is safe to say that the advantage was on the side of the rebels.
No matter how much Conan would like to think otherwise, his entire experience and certain instinct as a military officer left him without the slightest illusion. The battle was lost and at this point he could only try to minimize his losses.
Fortunately, an hour of time and everyone's determination to save as many of their soldiers as possible from the face of the planet turned out to be more than enough. In almost all the time necessary for the rebels to reorganize their fleet, all remaining troops from the Endor contingent, under the command of General Veers, were safely evacuated.
Only a dozen or so groups of stragglers remained there, as the General himself estimated. More victims, partly blamed on me.
Conan wasn't particularly thrilled about having to abandon his companions. Nevertheless, as an officer he must have learned long ago the necessity of sacrificing a few souls for the bigger picture. This was the curse of all commanders, in exchange for the opportunity to command others. Still, he was at least going to sacrifice as little as possible. As little as possible.
As the last shuttles arrived at their assigned ships, the rebels were just beginning to prepare for an attack. However, the enemy fleet was still far from Task Force Endor at that point.
"All ships, turn and prepare for hyperspace jump!" Conan ordered sharply, seeing an opportunity to quickly escape from a lost and long-decided battle. "Starfighters to the destroyers and we are out of here immediately!"
After approximately 5 minutes, the first rebel X-wings were able to begin attacking the ships of the High Admiral's fleet with their small laser cannons. However, before any of the bolts could hit their target, all the Star Destroyers and the Star Dreadnought jumped into hyperspace, one by one. They left the rebels to their own devices to celebrate their victory.
This defeat won't change anything, ultimately.
XXX
Conan sat back with a sigh in the main chair at the conference room table, with a porthole to his right that gave a view of hyperspace. Behind a swivel chair with wheels, there were a pair of white armored death troopers, and therefore members of the 1st Death Division, also known as the White Death Division. The latter name was quite absurd, considering the simple fact that white armor was the basic type of stormtroopers. But this was the colloquial nomenclature that stuck to the division.
As this happened, the fleet of the Endor system was heading through the appropriate hyperspace routes towards the Core worlds. After the Emperor's death was confirmed, they had to report as quickly as possible to the Ruling Council, which would undoubtedly become the main ruling body of the Galactic Empire for a very long time. Perhaps even longer than anyone could wish.
A moment later, two other people entered. Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod and immediately after him - as a formally lower rank - Admiral Firmus Piett. They both moved to take their seats as quickly as possible, on the High Admiral's left and right.
High Admiral Motti's mere presence gave the room a sufficiently sour atmosphere. The presence of the entire trio of the highest ranking on Deathgiver intensified everything in a way unimaginable.
"Gentlemen." Conan began, then placed his hands up to his elbows on the black desk. "Today, the greatest disaster in the history of the Galactic Empire occurred. Even bigger than what happened to the Yavin system a few years ago."
His gaze turned to Tiaan, who, accompanied by a nervous swallow, tried to avoid his gaze by lowering his eyes to the ground. "Exactly how many Death Star personnel were evacuated?"
"Less than one million, but we haven't determined the exact number yet." Moff reported nervously. "I console myself with the thought of…"
"That the construction of the battle station has not yet been fully completed and the planned two and a half million were not there?" Conan interrupted unceremoniously. "Me too. But leaving aside our irrelevant feelings on this matter. How much of the ground contingent managed to survive and evacuate the planet?"
"Less than half, as a percentage, the ground forces suffered greater losses of personnel than the navy, as a result of fierce fighting and ambushes by local savages." Tiaan continued the report on a grim note, very grim.
"The Ruling Council will be furious." Conan grumbled under his breath in a short-lived show of annoyance. "Now the most important thing is to consider. Is the Emperor dead?"
There was no simple answer to a simple question. Although no one had confirmed the death of the Emperor of the Galactic Empire, there was still no one who could confirm it. So we have to assume he's dead. It is absolutely shameful that the personnel of the greatest navy in the history of the entire galaxy would not be able to defend their galactic ruler against a gang of anarchists with no minimum discipline.
The next few minutes were spent listening to detailed reports. First about the army's losses, due to the fact that it was short and concise. The jacket, however, is a different matter. Half of the Star Destroyers involved in the battle were either destroyed or captured by the rebels. This also included dozens of squadrons of TIEs, pilots lost in the heat of battle. Many air wings that were considered elite were either almost completely wiped out or suffered heavy losses. Only the starfighter squadrons of Motti's fleet, armed with the highest quality equipment, experienced relatively small losses, even despite the decline in pilot effectiveness.
The report left no doubt that with the Emperor's undoubted death, this was the greatest defeat in the history of the Galactic Empire. By the Force, it could basically be the end of the Empire if, in a few days, dozens of high-ranking officials and military commanders wake up from sleep with the knowledge that their single, immediate superior and galactic ruler is dead.
The thought of the beginning of the end of the Empire put Conan in a very bad mood, but at the same time it gave him a new portion of determination. No, I have served the Empire and the Emperor for too long. All this cost me too much effort, sweat and tears to let the best chance for permanent peace and order in the galaxy go to waste. Rebellion and anarchy will triumph over my dead body!
With this new determination, Conan proceeded to continue the meeting, and eventually return to the Core worlds, towards Coruscant. As he had guessed, he did not receive a warm welcome, which was extremely unfortunate.
XXX
The welcome to Coruscant was not one of the warmest moments in Conan's life, if such a thing could even be called a welcome.
It took him and the fleet he commanded several standard days to arrive at the center of Imperial power. During this time, however, a lot has changed in the galaxy. More than anyone could wish for.
The rebels announced this event quite quickly, which should not have been the slightest surprise to anyone. It was logical that they would want to take full advantage of the victory.
Just as quickly, a message came from the office of the Grand Vizier, Sate Pestage, which also announced the death of the Emperor at Endor. Thus, the Emperor's right-hand man officially declared himself regent and effectively acting Emperor, in cooperation with the Ruling Council.
However, it was only after this second announcement that all hell broke loose in the Galactic Empire.
On a communication channel reserved for high-ranking Imperial officials - which included Conan himself - there was an outpouring of messages from all sectors of the galaxy controlled by the Galactic Empire.
The inhabitants of planets - which were considered pacified and peaceful - in the Outer Rim began to rebel. A series of attacks by various squadrons of the Rebel Alliance on important Imperial outposts. Erupting conflicts between Moffs and Admirals. On top of all this, mutual accusations of betrayal. On the one hand, all this created an image of chaos, and on the other hand, such an abundance of messages led to the communication channel being clogged several times.
Just when High Admiral Motti thought things couldn't get any worse, his illusions were quickly shattered when, after arriving on Coruscant and attempting to land in the Imperial Palace area, his Lambda shuttle remained in the air for two hours. All this until an irritated Conan finally used his personal codes and his shuttle was allowed to land almost immediately.
The reason for this state of affairs were the large demonstrations on the planet that had been going on for three days. Manifestations that quickly turned into chaotic riots and caused chaos on the surface of the entire planet. Many districts burned and symbols of Imperial power were destroyed again and again. This made it necessary to introduce the army in cooperation with the ISB, which, considering the number of demonstrators, must have taken some time.
Conan himself looked through the reports on the riots and the involvement of the planet's population out of pure curiosity. The conclusions and data contained there were at least surprising for him. First of all, he learned that of a population numbering tens of billions of beings, only 3% - mostly alien and discriminated species - were involved in the riots. It was true that it was more than surprising, but that was not what surprised the High Admiral the most. What was most surprising to him was the fact that however politically engaged part of the planet is, it is roughly 10% of the total population. It was clear from this that the remaining 90% were disengaged and focused primarily on getting by.
Personally, Conan found this attitude pathetic. Virtually my entire life, first thanks to my parents, and now thanks to my concern for a better future for the Empire and its citizens. The focus of these people only on their own affairs is pathetic, absolutely pathetic, but on the other hand understandable.
However, neither his thoughts on the matter nor the situation on the planet mattered in the slightest. Especially since he would soon appear before the Imperial Ruling Council, and there he could not count on even the slightest understanding.
Although Conan rarely attended meetings of the Imperial Ruling Council - and when he did, it was in his capacity as a representative of the Imperial Navy - it nonetheless meant he had to get involved. He was careful not to make enemies, but playing politics inevitably led, sooner or later, to conflict with someone else also involved in the game.
In the case of the High Admiral, that person - unfortunately for him - was Grand Vizier Sate Pestage himself. It was a matter of several arguments between them, during several meetings, during which the Grand Vizier quite clearly tried to usurp power over the army. Conan had no intention of allowing this to happen, and a heated discussion ensued between them.
However, this was not Conan's only enemy, the former Vice Chancellor and one of the first members of the Imperial Ruling Council, Mas Amedda, was also in conflict with him.
The two of them could easily form a common front to attack him, and they had plenty of ammunition to do so. However, to the High Admiral's great surprise, other representatives of the military came to his aid almost immediately. Those who were present in the large and darkened hall in the Imperial Palace. General Paltr Carvin, Grand Admiral Afsheen Makati, Grand Admiral Peccati Syn, or some High General Conan didn't recognize.
High Admiral Motti gave his report on the Battle of Endor and informed the council that the Emperor was most likely dead, mentally prepared for a fierce attack from almost all sides. However, when the Grand Vizier or one of his advisors wanted to attack and blame Conan for the defeat or, in their opinion, a shameful retreat, but then the mentioned military men defended the High Admiral.
The situation escalated very quickly, especially when a group of members of the Imperial Army and Imperial Navy were on the verge of verbal - and perhaps even physical - attacks on members of the civil authorities. It did not help when COMPNOR or Imperial Intelligence officials joined the quarrel. Soon, only the ISB representative remained neutral in the dispute, which did not change the fact that the conflict was growing.
Why would intelligence support me, especially the adjutant... At one point Conan's thoughts wandered towards a certain raven-haired woman with two eyes that did not match in color.
The thought that the Director of Imperial Intelligence herself could support him was absurd and completely incomprehensible to him. However, there was every reason for it. This defies all logic! I am one of the most powerful high-ranking officers and a Warlord! I have my own fiefdom, and that fiefdom includes one of the most powerful shipyards in the known galaxy! This woman could eliminate me in an instant, and yet she clearly decides to just play with me!
His emotions swirled around in his head for some time until they began to fade and die out completely, like a fire without any fuel to fuel it. Once he had fully calmed down, the argument between the council members finally came to an end. The Acting Emperor then took notice of him, and his pale and slightly slippery face began to remind Conan of Kalsnake, which Motti had admired during his visit to Kalee.
"High Admiral Motti, while there is no doubt that your decisions enabled the rescue of many Death Star personnel, as well as a large number of the surviving contingent from the moon Endor…" The Grand Vizier's eyes seemed to be trying to pierce straight into Conan's soul, but he did not let the man satisfaction. "...Despite this, you acted shamefully and in a manner unbecoming an Imperial officer. You should have counterattacked and destroyed these rebels, but instead you retreated from the battlefield. For this reason, I am relieving you of command of most of what is left of Task Force Endor."
Judging by the faces of the rest of the crowd, this decision seemed to be acceptable, although the military officers were clearly not happy. This was not the end, however, as the Grand Vizier looked at his personal datapad for data.
"Beyond the Deathgiver…" He said the name of this Star Dreadnought as if it was more of a joke. "...your flagship, and: Hunter, Crusher, Tarkin, Catalyst, Cassio, Wulf, Siward, Trech, Hurst and Moradmin. From this fleet, you still have the Chimera and 5 Star Destroyers of your choice. The rest remains Death Squadron and falls under the command of Admiral Blitzer Harrsk."
The Grand Vizier then put down the datapad before looking at the High Admiral with contempt. "Now get out of here. Better return to your fiefdom and prepare it for rebel attacks. Not to mention the need to maintain local ship production, especially in Bilbringia. Make one more mistake and it will be your last, High Admiral. Now get out!"
With a wave of his hand, Conan almost automatically saluted and left the room. Realizing there was nothing to look for here, he headed for the landing strip with his personal shuttle.
But once he had the door to the landing platform in sight, Conan also saw a woman in her forties, wearing a red uniform, and with a pair of eyes that left no doubt as to her identity.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, the Force, the universe, or whoever is in control of this farce tries to prove me otherwise. Conan suppressed the pained expression on his face and headed towards his rendezvous with fate. "Director Isard, this is unexpected."
In response, the Director of Intelligence's face broke into the slightly sweet but clearly menacing smile that Ysanne Isard liked to send to all of her political enemies. Sometimes also to allies, to remind them who they actually depend on. "I believed that my adjutant's assistance in saving your life and position was more than enough to expect you to see me as soon as possible, High Admiral."
Conan suppressed the urge to grimace at her condescending tone. "Well, you've always been much smarter than me, Director."
He had to play her game now, they were both aware of all this now, though Ysanne was only too aware of it. "So you won't mind if we talk aboard your shuttle, the walls have ears here and I don't intend to make my intentions too open."
Conan nodded slightly, then waved her in, and soon they were both inside. The ship's commander, two pilots and 6 death troopers were sent out. As if that was not enough, the High Admiral was forced to turn off all sound recording systems in front of the Director of Intelligence.
It was clear that the Director of Intelligence consistently held the upper hand in all aspects of the conversation.
"You went to quite a lot of trouble to get as many personnel from the Endor system here as possible." Ysanne started with a seemingly insignificant matter.
"The destruction of a previous orbital battle station of this type cost the lives of too many personnel." Conan replied with obvious restraint. "What is this meeting for, Director?"
"Get straight to the point?" Iceheart was clearly amused by his directness, but it was clear that she had no intention of dragging this out any longer than necessary. "Let me be clear, I want you to return to the space you control and oversee ship production, but you will prioritize certain fleets that I have identified."
Conan smiled internally, although outwardly he remained calm. "I understand everything now, although I'm surprised it's happening so quickly. You just want to have your own industrial base that would provide equipment and ships solely for your needs and for your trusted people."
"I would think you were an idiot if you didn't understand that." Isard smiled slyly, as if pleased that her next servant had at least some sense. "Regardless of that, you're absolutely right. I expect you, High Admiral, to ensure that the shipyards and planets in your fiefdom produce weapons with extraordinary efficiency."
Conan kept a straight face, but internally grimaced as he remembered all the stories about agents and officers who had operated within Imperial Intelligence and had failed the Director. "I suspect I won't have a better choice."
"Better, definitely not." Isard placed one of her fingers sensually on the High Admiral's left cheek, but he is not intimidated by her. "If, of course, you value your life, and you know that you value, like everyone else, a healthy life. If not, I can file your claim for life violation than yours."
Conan's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the dagger's vibroblade with purple goo on its surface, available poison, which the Director took out very quickly and brought closer to the High Admiral.
Despite all this, it is possible to quickly master the adjustments and dispassionately in the face of Isard. "Director, I works for you, but it really has to be more than a simple scare tactic."
The head of intelligence for a moment, when she is enraged by his words and Conan is already available, that she has gone too far and now she is paying the price. Appearing immediately after smiling.
"Definitely, extraordinary importance, more valuable than." She nonchalantly put the vibroblade back into her sleeve where it came from. "Although you, male guards and officers of the Imperial Navy, are haughty and arrogant, all of you have been panicking about the alternative case that has occurred."
Conan didn't immediately react to this taunt, but he sensed that she wanted to respond to him and this small conversation. "Well, real heroism, real courage, not a cheap imitation, is charged to the few, regulated by gender. It's hard to put it in a regular pot. A young cadet, a woman by nature, was once deemed unimportant and unworthy of the rank of warrant officer, and she proved it to me through her true talents."
"A certain woman who may be subject to Grand Moff Tarkin's family unit?" Ysanne Isard asks him about the meaning at all. "I know that's a vulgar depiction of the situation, but it can actually be simplified to this idea of a woman being able to appear in the Empire because of you."
"What are you trying to tell me right now, Director?" Conan was not happy with these words, especially since over the years he had personally come to respect Natasi Daala, who, despite sexism within the Empire, and despite all the obstacles, eventually achieved the rank of Admiral.
"I know that you also know about the Maw Installation, and the technologies being developed there. Let me be clear that I intend to get my hands on it, as the secrets stored there could give us an advantage over the rebels and any enemies within the Empire."
"Relying on the power of technologies that may as well not exist is not the wisest choice." Conan stroked his chin lightly in thought. "What exactly are you planning, Director Isard?"
"Right now, just to strengthen and consolidate my position." The woman looked at him, her gaze more icy and calculating. "Perhaps someone inexperienced in politics would say that it is risky that I am telling you my plans, but I know better. Many of your friends and supporters on the council are people with ties to me. Not to mention that Grand Vizier, I want your head, at least as a show of strength."
Once again, that sweet yet irritating smile appeared on her face. "You have no choice, High Admiral, if you want to survive and maintain power, you will obey me. Then you might even multiply your power and influence."
"Besides…" Now she leaned in and whispered a few words into Conan's ears. "I will give you the head of Sate Pestage, and considering your long-standing rivalry, it must be something extremely... tempting for you."
Given her tone of voice, Conan realized it was time to end this conversation. "You don't have to worry about productions, I have many quite talented administrators and, besides, the sectors and systems I control are among the safest in the Empire. However, as for finding the Maw Installation, I never found out the location of this research facility. Of course, I will make an effort to locate this place, but unfortunately I cannot promise a miracle."
"Naturally, High Admiral." Isard stood up, visibly straightened her seat after quite a long time, and then headed towards the ramp. "But remember, Zi, that our fates are linked."
High Admiral Motti did not immediately respond. He waited until Isard came outside. "We'll see, Iceheart, we'll see."
He returned to his flagship quite quickly and immediately after returning, he gave a message to the fleet and the ships attached to it that they were to prepare for a jump into hyperspace, towards his sectors, which included: Fakir sector, Deadalis sector, Jalor sector, Ansion sector , the Rago sector, the Belshar sector, the Churnis sector, the Ariarch sector, the Vorc sector and the Glythe sector. Additionally, there was not even the slightest doubt that in the event of an escalation of chaos in the Empire, the Londori and Chaama sectors would be easy prey for the High Admiral. Not to mention his control over Bilbringi, which gave Conan access to one of the largest shipyards in the galaxy, capable of producing countless ships each month.
As for the planet that would become the capital for the forces and administration loyal to the High Admiral, it was Vicondor. A highly urbanized and beachy planet, but nevertheless very ecologically well-kept. A planet with quite powerful shipyards and of great commercial importance. Economically, the High Admiral - not to mention the other planets under his rule - was economically secure. However, what does the future hold…
No matter what happens, they will fight for the Empire and the Imperial Ideal. I will fight until the day I have no strength, but I will not rest until the Galactic Empire is saved. However, I have not the slightest doubt that I will give my all.
This path will not be easy, it will take countless lives and it will cost me and my colleagues a lot of effort. Many nights will be lost, many paths will be opened, great destruction will be unleashed upon this galaxy. But this is the path I will follow as a loyal son of the Galactic Empire!
Meanwhile, the future will be decided by durasteel, bolts and blood, but it will be a prosperous future for the Galactic Empire. Long live the Empire!
AN: Well that's it, feel free to comment. In the meantime, I wish you all the best and see you in the future!
And by the way, the cover of the fic, contains a visual image of this version of death troopers.
