"Twenty-four troopers and three officers dead on med bay, one tech trampled by a rampaging loader and a damn protocol droid killing four high ranking officers before it was overwhelmed. What are you doing out there?" ISB Lieutenant Halcard growled through the speakers of the holoprojector.
Explaining his actions wouldn't help a thing. The Lieutenant had read his report and was unsurprisingly not satisfied. So Vas stayed silent and weathered through the tirade.
"Worst of all, I got a call from the Deputy Director today. And I don't like that. My section of the galaxy is usually a peaceful one but recently rebels have appeared everywhere. My position here is in danger. I need a win from you, not more problems. I need you to find these kids within a week or I'll send a replacement."
"Sir, we are very close to cracking the case but a week is madness. We already freed the Senator and-"
"That you freed the Senator is the only reason we're still having this conversation. Otherwise, I would have just replaced you. Find these children and crush these rebels or not even your father's influence will protect you."
"We are very close to cracking the case. Even if we had setbacks recently, we made a lot of progress and we're learning from each attack. The rebels are burning their contacts at a tremendous rate. We can almost rule out that they are anywhere in the system by now. Then there are only a few other logical places where they could be in this system."
"Then, for your sake, I hope they're not hiding somewhere in the wilderness or managed to slip past your blockade and are on the other side of the galaxy by now."
"There are only a few reasonable places where they could go. I'm assembling a strike team to investigate them. On the top of the list is the headquarters of Braitun Systems, the company that operated from this sector during the clone wars."
"Why haven't I heard of this company?"
"I sent in a report a few weeks ago. In the grand scheme of things, the company wasn't known because it was a subsidiary of the Intergalactic Banking Blan tasked with producing Hardcell freighters for high-ranking officers in the IBC. It openly sided with the Confederacy of Independent Systems and was wasted in an attack by the Republic. Its facilities were never rebuilt but its leadership never gave up the fight. In place of the industrial complexes is now a massive scrapyard converting old Clone Wars era ships into resources."
"They're still working on that? The Clone Wars ended twenty years ago."
"The company managing the scrapping was only allowed a very small number of workers. They have automated most of the process but are still progressing very slowly since they have to account for every part they take off so that it doesn't land on the black market somewhere."
"And what are you planning to do there on the planet? Search the entire scrapyard. Do you think that is a good use of the time you have left?"
This arrogant little… Did he think this investigation was a walk in the park? One wrong move and the hostages would be dead. In his short time, he discovered betrayal after betrayal and worked through plans years in the making. He devoted all his time to the investigation. The Lieutenant couldn't expect more than that.
"You are unreasonable," was the closest Vas would go in criticising his superior.
"I am unreasonable. I am unreasonable in demanding results? Your father is jumping the chain of command and the senator is talking to the Deputy Director. Stop annoying people by trying to play politics and get me results. You have one week."
His projection vanished and Vas sighed deeply. This idiot probably never headed an investigation himself. He most likely didn't even read the full report and jumped right to the end where he read the casualty numbers so he had something to complain about. The worst thing was that ISB Lieutenant Halcard had the power to back up his threats and end his career in any branch of the Imperial government on a whim. With his influential family on Coruscant –there were rumours the Emperor himself was listening to his father– they were virtually untouchable.
When they had freed the Senator, Vas had thought it would finally start to go uphill but every time they had one success, there were four failures in the meantime: another traitor, another greedy person or another ambush. The ISB was supposed to be one step ahead of the criminals and not the other way around. Maybe he really wasn't fit for this job after all and the Lieutenant was right. Everything he had achieved, he owed to the powerful Moff Flennic, whom he had the misfortune to be his father.
From every side, he heard how it was impossible to jump in ranks so easily and then his father arranged the command of a light cruiser with ease. Zero told him an Agent couldn't get assigned a squad of special forces and here he was, with the shattered remains of one.
Creed was already dead. When would he manage to kill the others? Ace was already on the med bay, so it seemed he was working on it.
Vas walked up and down in his office until he couldn't stand it anymore. He wouldn't be able to concentrate now anyway, so he wandered aimlessly through the corridors. Passing personnel saluted him with a degree of fear and respect but he barely acknowledged their presence, engulfed in thoughts of the futility of this war.
How many of the people walking past him would die before this mission and this widespread rebellion was over? It was only fitting that he ended up at the crematorium on one of the Challenger's lowest decks. He hadn't seen Creed since the day in the caves. He had lied to himself, saying there was so much else to do but in reality, he could have spared the time. But the mere thought of looking at him again made him wretch. Letting Creed die was the biggest failure in his life so far and he wouldn't forget it to the end of his time. Neither would he allow it to happen again. In a small backpack attached to the standard armour of his uniform, he carried a med pack at all times and according to the medic he had talked to, stocked enough to treat almost any injury that didn't require complicated surgery.
Vas took one last deep breath and entered the crematorium. It wasn't as morbid as his imagination had made him believe. It was just as cold as the rest of the Challenger. An elderly man –relatively speaking, he probably wasn't older than mid-fifties but except for command positions, people usually didn't stay in service for that long– appeared through one of the doors leading out of the room. He took off the bright green gloves and apron and dropped both in a bucket to the side. Now only in his grey crewmen uniform, he sat down at the table and started typing on his datapad.
Vas cleared his throat. The man jumped, dropped his datapad and stumbled back against the wall.
"What the hell do you think sneaking up on me like that?" He looked angry at Vas until he recovered from his shock and recognised his uniform. "I mean, I'm sorry, Sir. I usually don't get a lot of company down here. I didn't see any request for an examination. I might have just missed something."
"No, it was a spontaneous decision. I would like to see Trooper DT-163."
"DT? The Deathtrooper? Oh, I'm afraid he has already undergone the whole procedure."
"What procedure?"
"We cremated him and released his ashes to space."
"You mean you burned and dumped him into space afterwards!"
"It is standard operation procedure if there are no living relatives. But we will remember his service."
"When did you do it?"
"Two days ago? Why?"
"So if I would have had the guts to come earlier, I would have still been able to see him."
"Don't beat yourself up about it, Sir."
"But I could have seen him again. When I saw him last …"
"It seems you were very close to DT-163 and one more moment won't make a difference. You have most likely spent years together. Focus on these years instead of any perceived missed opportunities. What is one moment in comparison to the time you have spent together?"
"You're right," he said while not really believing it but he couldn't talk to this man about it. He still had to maintain the image of an ISB Agent even if it was just a front. "What happened to his personal belongings?"
"They were burnt with him, except for his equipment of course."
In contrast to Zero, Creed hadn't asked for any special equipment and the only irregular item he ever used was the vibroblade. He had found it on one of their first missions and kept it ever since. He would find it, so he would never forget the man who had willingly followed him to hell and back.
Vas left and walked the surprisingly short way to one of the med bays. Was the Challenger purposefully designed in a way that the two facilities were so close together? A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. Brutal efficiency as ever.
As Vas entered the med bay, all gazes turned away from him. None –or at least the majority– of the troopers or officers had done anything wrong but it wasn't healthy to attract the eye of the ISB. Unchallenged he walked down the lines, looking at the rows and rows of wounded. On this station alone were close to a hundred. Most from the disastrous protests with only minor injuries and only a few from the recent droid rampage on the ship. Actual troopers were tending to the wounded, now that the medical droids had to go in their entirety. Even if some of them didn't show any sign of the malware, the risk was too great.
Near the end of the room, he stopped at the head of a bed. Ace's body –although he was more muscular than most troopers– had suffered from the injury and mostly old age. Without his bulky armour, he looked almost frail. Curiously his armour was piled up in an orderly pile that would allow him to don it in minutes. None of the other troopers had any of their equipment with them. Old habits were hard to break and the hardest of them was separating him from his weapon. Vas could only remember a handful of times he had seen Ace without it. His grey hair –obviously at the perfect length for a soldier– and the wrinkles made him look much older than the man who had taken care of the crematorium. According to his file, Ace was born almost thirty-five years ago on the Wild space world of Kamino. Due to the accelerated ageing implanted in his DNA, his real age was around seventy. Much too old for anyone to still be a soldier, especially one who charged head-first at the enemy. This wound might be the warning that he should end the fighting here. Otherwise the next time, he might die.
"You know, it's kind of creepy how you are staring at me like that while I'm sleeping."
Vas looked up in surprise and then frowned. "How long are you awake? Were you even asleep at all?"
"Well, I'm a light sleeper. I just feel it when someone armed comes close to me. Just like those droids."
"The medical droids tried to attack here as well."
"Yes, but they didn't get far with my friend…" He patted his blaster. "…and I being here. That's why you should always have a weapon with you. The droids managed to kill one of the troopers unfortunately but then I took care of them."
"You saved all their lives. The other med bay could have also needed a protector like you."
"How many?"
"Twenty-three."
"How did it even happen? Usually, I'm the one distrusting droids but I would have never expected it from one of the medical droids as well. If you can't trust them…"
"Yes, it's bad. It seems like almost all the droids in our surface installations and a good portion of the ones on board were compromised. Luckily they hadn't managed to reach the Challenger's core yet. Things would have been bad if that had happened. We might even have lost control over the ship entirely."
Vas shuddered at the idea of an Imperial Star Destroyer in the hands of these ruthless rebels. He sighed and sank into the uncomfortable plastoid chair.
"You seem like you want to talk about something. After all, you finally found the time to get down here."
"I'm sorry, Ace. I should have come earlier. There was so much to do."
"The mission comes first and I am fine here. You should focus on finding these kids."
"Nonetheless, I could have come. It would only take me a few minutes and as your commanding officer it is my duty."
"Don't beat yourself up about it, as I know you, you have done all you can to work on the case and probably a lot more than should be expected of you."
"It doesn't seem to be enough."
"What do you mean?"
"Lieutenant Halcard gave me a one-week ultimatum to solve this case or I'd be dismissed from service. The political pressure is mounting and he needs a scapegoat."
"One week. No one can solve this in one week."
"Well, I'll have to."
"Good, then let me just get my gear," Ace said, swinging his legs out of bed.
"Woah, woah, stop. You have not been discharged yet. You are wounded."
"Ah, my knee is fine. It would only be a day anyway until they would have let me go."
"No! I don't want to lose you as well."
Ace sighed and looked at him. The years of fighting and loss were apparent when he let his guard down. "You can't think like that or you'll never be a commander again. Yes, you have lost Creed and he was very dear to you –to all of us. But you can't hesitate to use your troops in battle now. It is good to have a healthy measure of respect for the authority you wield and think about what you're doing but if you hesitate, the enemy has already won. We can't let them roam the galaxy unchallenged and hurt more and more people, just because we are afraid that one of us might get hurt or die. This is our job and I would give my life if it meant finding these children."
"I don't want you to give your life. I want you to find them with me and tell the tale," Vas said.
"And that's what we'll do," Ace said and began donning his armour from the foot up.
"But you shouldn't go, not until you're absolutely fine."
"Boy, the Lieutenant said you have one week. We can't afford to lose even an hour. And don't worry about me. Nothing the rebels can throw at me will harm me. At the end of the Clone Wars, I killed a Jedi Master in a duel. What do these rebels have to offer?"
"Then you were in your prime. Now –and I'm sorry to say that but someone has to tell you– you're an old man."
"Then let's hope they don't find a Jedi somewhere."
"Well, about that…"