Chapter 15: Another Thing Comin'

39:5:22 GrS

Edge of the Southern Deep Core

Imperial-I Class Star Destroyer: Adamant

Here's a word for the wise, straight from the mouth of a wise man: If you think you're winning, you are, in fact, not. Once I get back into civilized space, I'm going to have that put in a Chandrilian fortune cookie. But first, I'm going to have to survive my latest encounter with the traitorous forces of the traitor formerly titled as an Admiral in the Imperial Navy: Blitzer Harrsk.

"How long until the jump coordinates have been calculated Masal?" I growled. From the bridge of the Adamant, I watched as the fleet belched emerald turbolaser fire, which raced across nearly countless kilometers of empty space to impact, rather limply, against the shields of the advancing traitor fleet.

The collective shields of my fleet, wheren't holding up nearly as well. A near galactic standard month of constant combat with the ships and installations of Harrsk's burgeoning kingdom hadn't been kind to either the shield generators or the doonium armor. As evidenced by the gentle rocking of the deck beneath my feet. The Adamant had been hit...again. At the base of the 'neck' portion of the ship that supported the bridge, at least the armor held.

"Two minutes my lord but the analytic department believes that the traitors will have found the fleet again within a day." Even the usually professional captain was showing the signs of the traitor's continual pressure. "But I suggest that we focus on removing the fleet from its current position first."

We'd been caught

"Agreed captain. Start to bring the TIEs home, and redirect auxiliary power to the main guns. I'd like to leave this engagement with some meaningful damage done to those Star Destroyers." I managed a grin despite the rather precarious situation. The commander of the fleet can't act like the fleet is losing now can he. "I have a feeling that unlike those traitors over there, this ship has gunners who can actually aim."

My deliberately projected words, and a widely cast mental nudge that made the recipients more receptive to my words, put the bridge crew in higher spirits than they had been and they relayed the new orders with more umph in their words than they had been doing. Masal complimented my words with some of his own and they further steel the resolve of the bridge crew.

I hide my own distaste at the situation, an Inquisitor, the black terror of the Empire, reduced to morale boosting platitudes from the bridge of a ship. I'd be laughed out of the Citadel if this was but a few years ago. Well at least I could soothe my pride with the knowledge that this type of talk was expected of a leader and if I would need inspiring words if I wanted to gain that oh so glorious power that I craved. Probably wouldn't feel like this if I'd had the chance to stick my lightsaber into some real combat but the fleet had been moving too fast these past weeks to accept the risk of detaching troops for boarding actions.

I'd be in a world of pain, again, if my ships had to jump away without me on board them. But all the sound reasoning in the galaxy didn't mean that I wasn't aching for a good fight. Training would only get you so far. I wanted to put my advancements in Form III to use.

However, as the remaining TIE wings were drawn into their motherships and the blue tunnel of hyperspace appeared around the Adamant, the change in color palate highlighting the burning bridge of a traitor Star Destroyer that had been perforated by the Adamant's turbolaser streams; the battles against Harrsk's forces that had ranged the width and breath of the southern Deep Core had done its part to make up for the lack of personal action. Most memorable of our month of havoc making was the one ship raid the Adamant had run against Kallist, the planet we discovered to be the "capital" of Harrsk's proclaim realm. I'd have liked to have seen the reaction the Lord High Admiral had when he discovered that I'd ordered his government quarter to be glassed.

Yet as I reflected on the "good times" my Deep Core Defense Fleet -still hadn't gotten over how bad the Ruling Council or whoever had commissioned this was at naming- had had in the Deep Core, I was also forced to admit that the good times were over. We'd run amok across dozens of systems, blasting anything remotely industrial related into atoms. By the Force, this fleet, using only its own ability, had set civilization in this sector of the galaxy back by at least three centuries. That accomplishment alone deserved the distribution of some medals.

We'd done more than could have been expected with just two dozen or so ships to the fleet's registrar. Harrsk had been forced to completely divert all of his ships intended for his offensive back into the Deep Core to deal with us. I was sure that the men and women of my fleet could rest easy, knowing that they had saved the Imperial worlds of the southern Core from being despoiled...by other Imperials really.

I'd read up on the polities that existed down here, or rather there at the current moment, and they didn't seem to possess the ability to differentiate between two factions flying the same vessel. A rather self absorbed duo were the Daupherm Planet States and the Botor Enclave. A classic example of an ancient feud being carried on generation after generation. They weren't true Imperial worlds, being official client states of the Empire, but they counted to a degree. The whole idea of mentioning the worlds the fleet were saving from the 'depredations of traitors' to the rank and file was Masal's idea anyways, the man certainly had his fingers on the pulse of the fleetwide morale. Masal would have made an excellent member of COMPNOR, or the ISB, in another life.

"We've arrived at Jump Point Aurek my lord." The man himself informed me. With a bout of rapid blinking I shake myself out of the brooding reverie I had fallen into. At least I hadn't been looking directly at the hyperspace tunnel, I sheepishly admit to myself.

"Status report." I say. Time to see just how bad our operational condition was now.

Masal clears his throat before beginning. "Shield efficiency is down a full quarter from before the engagement, limiting our effective combat time to just under an hour now. I would repeat my recommendation that we halt the fleet's movement…"

"In order to recalibrate the shield generators and return to max efficiency, I know Masal." I waved off the recommendation like I had done in the past. "But that requires the fleet to power down all shields and remain motionless for at the very least six hours, which leaves the fleet far too vulnerable. We've barely managed to keep one jump ahead of the traitors for the past week captain. Any delay in our movement exponentially raises the chance of the traitors tightening their noose to an inescapable degree."

I didn't tell Masal that everytime the recommendation of stopping our constant movement around this part of the Deep Core always resulted in the Force blasting warnings that roughly translated into Basic would sound something like "Do Not Do That". Suffice to say, I trusted the Force more than the recommendations of pretty much anything else. Not that I bothered to explain that.

"It would be nice to know where these statistics were obtained my lord but new hyperspace coordinates have been calculated and the next jump will commence on your command." Masal told me but I raised a finger to keep him from moving away.

"I'll forgive your words this time on account of the current situation but a reminder Captain: nobody is irreplaceable, not even you. Keep track of your words in the future, for your own health. " I warned him. He had been seriously out of line with openly questioning the information I had given him. I'd killed, in very painful ways, other officers who had said far less than Masal just did. Rule Number Four given to apprentices of the Citadel Inquisitorius: Let no one disrespect you and live to do it again.

Masal was given a second lease on life because he was just that talented at his job and the fact that I wasn't so self absorbed as to not understand that everyone in the fleet was running low on sleep currently, not to mention the rapid depletion of caf stores on the Adamant.

"Any offense given from my words was not intended m'lord. You have my word of honor that I will endeavor to not repeat this mistake." Masal covered his bases quickly and efficiently, telling me what I wanted to hear. And with the Force I could tell that he meant it too.

"Very well Captain. Commence with the jump in five minutes." I considered the reports of even lower shield efficiency and durability. "And you have four hours to address the shield issue after this jump. I will be in my chambers until then, alert me should an issue arise."

"Of course my lord."

~"This Sequence is named the Solar Sweep in the current Galactic Basic, though in ancient days its formal name was The Rays of the High Star that Brushes aside the Jetsam. The sequence, when executed properly and in the proper state of mind demanded by Soresu, will allow a proficient user to swat aside massed volley fire or continual fire from several repeating blasters. In essence, allowing a Jedi to "sweep" the "sun" of massed blaster bolts."~ The recording of Cin Drallig, after explaining this sequence, began to run through its constituent parts. ~"To begin young Jedi, assume the standard Form III opening stance, but modify the angle of the lightsaber to be pointed inward, towards your stance, rather than at an angle. Adjust the arms so that your hands are now level with your forehead."~ The data holocron had been set to its projector mode, so a life size hologram of Cin Drallig performing the sequence made it easier to study his form.

With a deep breath, I began to follow along, another repetition on the long hard road to engrave katas and sequences into muscle memory that my body would perfectly execute when needed. Sweat dripped off me as a single red blade cut the air around me, catching phantom volleys and flinging them back at their hapless owners with a vengeance. At the same time, I grabbed at the Dark Side, bending the amount I could safely command to send smoldering lines of power through my body.

I moved faster and stronger as a result. I was more alive in this very moment than I had been before, the liquid power of the universe pumping across me in a tightly gripped river of magma. I was engaged in both Force and lightsaber training, expanding the foundation of the physical while deepening connection to the spiritual. Moving meditation had always been my preferred option.

Yet even now, when I was in the 'zone', I was being held back. As I sank deeper into my meditation, as I fed more fuel to the Dark Side in order to add a few more drops of power into the fire that I had stoked. Yet it wasn't enough. The weapon I wielded didn't fit, for lack of a better term. All texts I had ever managed to steal a glimpse at back at the Citadel had described lightsabers as an extension of its wielder, something that through the power of the Force bridged the gap between organic and inorganic.

The mass produced lightsabers given to the new generation of Inquisitors was an intentional, if minor, limitation on our ability. But the inability to link with my weapon proved to be just enough to prevent me from moving deeper into meditation practice. After an hour of this, going off the chrono, I called it quits. The sequence learned, but not absorbed, not to the degree that would allow its use in combat.

However, I still had energy to spare, so I turned my attention to a series of heavy weights in the corner. Reaching out with the Force, I grabbed the weights and started to lift them this way and that. Square blocks of metal slowly floated around the room as I telekinetically directed them, these blocks were then set on the floor and subjected to force pushes and pulls. I was aiming for increased power behind my force techniques, and to some degree, practicing telekinetic techniques was the same as working a muscle. The more you pushed it, the more results you got back.

Of course, I was forced to rely on bare bone techniques. Techniques that had been stripped of refinement and efficiency so that my colleagues and I would eventually, inevitably, reach a skill plateau far below that of the founding ranks of the Inquisitorius. It made me sweat more and improved my understanding of the fundamentals, so I kept at it. Block swerved left, then it swerved right, right again, pulled towards me with a cacophony of metal on metal, then away from me to collide against the wall it had rested against before this had started. Then I moved onto smaller blocks, whipping them through the air at chest height, then head height. Finally, first sized cubes were called to my hands at rapid speed. Then I pivoted, aimed and pushed them with force towards a wall. Said wall was covered in pocketmarks.

An hour and a half bled by, leaving me covered in sweat but more centered in the Force than I had previously been. The Dark Side I had drawn up was simmered back down to a pleasing warmness in my bones.

My mind wandered to the strategic situation my fleet had found itself in: trapped in the unforgiving space of the Deep Core by hounding enemy fleets, unable to complete the "objective" Imperial Command had given me. Due to no fault of my own but I doubt the faction on Imperial Center aligned against the Inquisitorious would care about that distinction if I dared to withdraw from the area of operations without direct orders to do so. Bah what did they know? Harrsk was a mad man now, not the star of the Imperial Navy! The days of Blitzer Harrsk were over the second he hit his head during Endor, and now that he was in the Deep Core, he was well on his way to total and irrevocable irrelevancy.

The Imperial High Command, not to mention the Grand Inquisitor, would also not accept "knowledge of future events" as a valid reason for disengagement. So I was doubly stuck.

So how can I pull a nerf out of a hat that allows me to slip this current noose and restart the fleet's raids?

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

That...was my military holotransceiver, one of the high end models that was heavily encrypted and could piggyback off other holo signals to reach just about anywhere in the civilized galaxy. I'd been issued it upon taking command of the Adamant and had only used it to receive postings to new sectors to hunt rebels. And my orders to take command of the Deep Core Defense Fleet. Huh.

Walking over to where I had put my belt, I withdrew the transceiver and activated it, the device scanning my thumbprint for initial verification then prompting me to input an alphanumeric code to initiate transceiver proper. With another sequence of beeps, the transceiver showed one new message, marked with the code level of Imperial High Command.

A grin stretched across my face. Truly, the Force provides for the needs of those who wield it.

~Inquisitor, this command directive has been issued directly by the Ruling Council member Grand Inquisitor Yiaso."~ The lower ranking female adjutant spoke, clearly she was the underling given the job of transmitting the contents of this message. ~"The current area of operation has been terminated following your successful operations against the traitor Blitzer Harrsk. A naval cordone has been established in the space outside of the current AO to contain any future offensives by the traitors. In continuation with your pre-existing orders, the Deep Core Defense Fleet is ordered to withdraw from its current combat zone to the repair yards at Belgaroth to refit, resupply and reinforcement. Following that, the Deep Core Defense Fleet will relocate its AO to the eastern Deep Core, as the traitor Kosh Teradoc has broken with the Galactic Empire and seeks to usurp its rule in that region. Orders are as follows: engage and destroy the traitor forces of Teradoc to prevent his forces from interrupting Imperial control of the area of operations. Attached to this message are the relevant intelligence briefings. Inquisitor, the Ruling Council has full faith and confidence in your loyalty to the Galactic Empire and your ability to squash the traitors infesting her sovereign space. Long Live the New Order!"~

"Long live the New Order." I reply reflexively. This reeked of internal jockeying among the Council and it seemed like Yiaso had made good on his unspoken promise to lay claim to me as his tool in the highest level of governance in the Empire. The better my performance, the more prestige and power Yiaso would take away from his colleagues, thereby increasing the control the Inquisitorius had in the affairs of the Empire as a whole. The reinforcements I was getting as his unsubtle approval at my performance, I imagine that his disapproval would be just as unsubtle in the event I weakened his standing.

A bitter taste ghosted over my tongue. Palpatine was dead, for the moment, and I had managed to replace one master for another without any effort on my part. So much for my dreams of freedom. The realization made me clench my teeth in anger and I wanted to take my fists to something.

But but but, I had to remind myself, there was a purpose to this, even if I hated it. Unlike under Palpatine, upwards mobility existed with the currently unstable hierarchy of the Inquisitorius. I could rise to the level of Yiaso and then take his place, or dispose of him personally. My chains were no longer forced upon me, now they had become illusions that I could drop at will.

Yes, this new servitude wasn't the servitude that it seems, or the servitude that Yiaso had intended it to be. He didn't understand, locked away in his petty power struggles on Imperial Center, that the real game was out here. Here was where true power and influence were to be gained at the point of the sword and by the power of words, not with courtly intrigue and assassin's knives.

It had become clear to me, with all my knowledge, the game was now mine to lose. I hated defeat in both lives. The name Andorak would be known across the galaxy and to all future generations.

First, I had a popsicle stand to blow. Slightly more Civilization, here I come. And if I had to make a brief stop on my way over to slightly-more-civilization to pay a debt I had incurred, no one would care. It's not like an ISB agent could hide from a force user.

A/N - So it's been a while lads, but college is out for the summer and I'm currently free of any obligations. A perfect time to return to this story in my opinion. Not a lot of combat heavy stuff this chapter but we are, so to say, out of the tutorial area and onto greater things. Apologies if the words don't flow to the degree they did in other chapters but I am returning to the story after a long break, might need more time to get this story's flow back. I'm pretty excited to start up the more force heavy parts of the story in the coming chapters and I hope the reception to those will be as positive as it has to the battle chapters(who knows). Also we have our first divergence: Blitzer Harrsk has been successfully quarantined in the Deep Core! He's supposed to have spread out to Abregado-Rae before the New Republic offensives send him into the Deep Core, but now the Ruling Council has managed to get loyal forces to blockade the routes into the Core proper. Not to say that Harrsk can't break out in the future given his sizable forces, but he won't be moving anytime soon and now he can't present himself as the third option in the fight for Imperial control. Wonder where all those ships that would join Harrsk in the period between Endor and the NR coruscant campaigns might end up going?