Ada had already discarded her helmet and climbed out of her bomber into the pandemonium of the TIE staging area. Something in the back of her mind told her that this was related to the information Rosh could not tell her, but right now she ignored the twist in her neck and the bruise on her cheek to search for answers on what had made her helmeted head almost dent her immaculately maintained cockpit. She stormed through the crowd, pushing through them as obstacles to her ultimate goal.
Once she finally cleared the ruckus in the narrow TIE staging area, she aggressively questioned anyone who she thought might have answers without paying any mind to their rank insignia. The aviation maintenance officer she had harried in the hangar felt a smug sense of karmic retribution as some maintenance personnel hauled her out of a screaming field grade maintenance officer's face. They weren't exactly sure where to put her, but the chaos afforded the rare opportunity to throw an obscenity-spewing officer into a supply closet. Ada was never one to pull rank, so her main weapon was her persistence which surprised even her keepers. She belched flame at what should have been the top of her lungs until the door hissed open after she exploited a vulnerability in the locking mechanism. She easily dodged their lame attempts to restrain her and bolted, easily evading all further attempts to arrest her.
"LT Astar, please follow me to the medical bay at once," an enlisted reported as he moved to escort her. She was already headed there though; her symptoms had started to present before she even got to the Commander's office. Her skin felt hot and prickly, her headache had worsened, and she saw a few hairs stuck to her uniform within some sweat beads.
When a star collapses, all of the matter in its core is essentially crushed into the smallest state possible. The larger the star, the higher mass and thus the higher gravitational force it exerts.
If a star is large enough, the gravity at the center will be so high that the matter at the core of the star forms a black hole. Not all matter in the star becomes part of the black hole though, so the rest is forcefully ejected by the hydrostatic pressure that had delicately kept the star in balance mere seconds before. This explosion is what we know as a supernova.
The matter and energy that are expelled come in all shapes and forms, most of which are extremely dangerous to carbon meatbags. Particles and electromagnetic waves rip through cells, knocking atoms out of place; and thus cause formerly harmonious systems to become discordant. This phenomenon is known as acute ionizing radiation exposure, which was the source of Astar's current misery.
The Violator's hull and shields protected most of the crew from major exposure, and prevented people like Astar who viewed the explosion up close and through a window from immediate blindness closely followed by death.
This dose of radiation would be agonizing and fatal without the medical treatment that awaited Astar. Treating this condition was quite simple; a short dip in a bacta tank along with a special cocktail of chemicals repaired all the cell damage and put a spit shine on the reconstructed vitals.
Although Ada had elected to use a more passive method of information gathering to avoid any unnecessary setbacks, she still stalked through the passageways as if she were looking for an upstart child. Her main target was Rosh, but anyone who could provide useful insight was enough for her.
Her focus on audible information impaired her parsing of visible information enough to nearly shoulder-check to the deck one Petty Officer Neel, who had been speaking cordially with a female officer until the rude interruption by the boorish brute.
"Uh, hey, LT Ada," Neel stammered while righting himself.
Ada quickly scanned her environment and noticed the reactor insignia on the woman's uniform.
"Hey, Commander's Pet, who's your friend?" Ada said, shifting her weight to one leg and casually pointing at the reactor officer that had gotten more interaction with non-engineering personnel in one day than most had in their entire career.
The corner of Neel's lip twitched.
"LT Astar, pleasure to meet you!" she said, flashing a cheery but professional smile. "And who might you be?"
"Flight LT Ada, TIE bomber extraordinaire!" she exclaimed, posing as if she were to be cast into a statue. "Don't see many of you reactor folks up here," she raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Ugh, don't remind me. Everybody's been going on and on about it," Astar tersely replied, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, I guess that's fair. Well, standard interrogation procedure dictates that I ask what brought you up here."
"Finishing up some operations quals."
"Do you know anything about what happened?"
"Not much. All I know is that there weren't any hostile ships after we jumped and that explosion you felt took out the Bludgeoner."
Somehow Ada had missed that small detail of the loss of an entire star destroyer in her single minded quest for information. "Jeez, an entire star destroyer? Glad it wasn't us," Ada said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Ada, this is serious business. An ENTIRE star destroyer got blown up and no one knows what happened," Neel whispered to her for reasons unknown.
"Thanks for the insight, Sideburns," she replied, winking and clicking her tongue at him.
Neel definitely liked the expression, but didn't particularly enjoy making a fool of himself in front of her.
Ada turned back to Astar.
"So, what's got you coming from the medbay?" Ada said, pointing to the relevant signage.
Astar twitched, clearly miffed by the sudden onset of interrogation bordering on harrassment. She wasn't about to give another inch of her professionalism to the potentially well meaning but obnoxious pilot.
"I hit the wall hard after the explosion and needed to get some treatment. Any other questions? I need to get going soon."
"Ada, I really think you should let her go," Neel interrupted in attempt to defuse the situation. The tension was so thick that even one as oblivious as he could notice it.
Ada looked to Neel, back at Astar, and sighed. He was right; she had gotten a tad bit headstrong. She would have to gather information with a bit more finesse if she wanted to keep her reputation intact.
"Sorry about that, got a little too excited. I was in my bomber when it happened and I was overzealous for answers," Ada apologized.
"It's alright, I would be too. I hope if we interact in the future it will be under more pleasant circumstances," Astar nodded.
"I hope so too."
Ada turned toward Neel as Astar headed back to reactors.
"You know anything?"
"About as much as she does," Neel said. His brow was knit with concentration, a stark contrast to his usual flustered space cadet demeanor. "I know I'm not the brightest, but even I can tell that leadership has no idea what's going on."
Perhaps she could have taken a page out of his book. Probably would have saved her from the makeshift brig and unaware that an entire star destroyer had been lost.
"Look, about LT Astar, she's pretty cool when you get to know her."
"I'm sure you know her very well after talking to her for a few minutes," she said, flashing him a coy smile.
He shot Ada an annoyed look. "You know what I mean."
"Nah, I'm just messing with you. By the way, what's your name? Hopefully it's shorter than Sideburns or Commander's Pet."
Neel swelled with pride, finally breaking his intense concentration.
"Petty Officer Neel, at your service ma'am!" he said, flashing her a sharp salute. She thought he was joking.
"Fantastic, I'll just call you Neel. Way shorter and easier to remember," she grinned.
"I can deal with that, Ada," he grinned back.
The two walked silently through the abating commotion back to their respective general quarters stations to await direction from leadership.
Former Commander Gaunt had been arrested two days ago for his inability to prevent the complete loss of a star destroyer and as a result now stood in handcuffs in front of a tribunal of Admirals assembled to decide his fate. Though his position still carried the rank of "admiral", the enormous scope of the navy meant that admirals varied wildly in importance. These men were likely in command of at least a hundred star destroyers each.
Outwardly he appeared serene and focused, but in his mind he harbored many conflicting thoughts. There must have been some way for him to prevent it, he cogitated. How could he have stopped himself from being tracked? How could he have gathered more intelligence on the adversary's intent? Despite all the time he had spent thinking about it, no solution came to him. What would a better Commander have done? The autonomy that had been his greatest asset was now his greatest downfall. He had no friends in the upper echelons the way that many of these Admirals did; having those connections would have saved him from doom to a shallow, unmarked grave.
This trial was set up under the pretense of fact-finding and justice, but these Admirals were here to argue his use for their own ends. For many that end was stripping him of his command and summary execution. The gravity of the complete loss of a star destroyer could not be understated, so it followed that the Admirals who got the most credit for bringing him to justice would have a quick boost to their career while doing very little actually attain it. Execution meant less hassle for them. Ironically very little bureaucracy was involved in that dirty business and the dead can no longer defend themselves. There was no reason to keep him around; he could be easily replaced or his squadron cannibalized for other uses.
"Your failure cannot go unpunished!"
"Justice must be meted out impartially and consistently!"
"This Outer Rim yokel needs to be make an example of!"
Indeed, he was born in the Outer Rim on a backwater planet just incorporated enough to get him into a good Imperial Military Academy. Of course, his family was wealthy; but in comparison to many here he might as well be a TIE fighter pilot. It certainly did not help that he went straight back to the Outer Rim when he got a hold of a star destroyer squadron.
They jeered at him; in truth, his fate was already decided. The only effect this haranguing had was to desecrate his corpse. He believed in the mission of the Empire, not these petty politics. Perhaps he should have focused more on the latter; he would probably still be alive.
His thoughts were interrupted by an announcement that boomed throughout the colosseum.
"Grand Moff Tarkin will now speak on behalf of the defendant."
Impossible. there was no chance that…
"I have listened in on this sham of a trial since its commencement. You would fashion yourselves as arbiters of justice, but you have shown yourselves to be anything but. A 'yokel', you say? Were you not aware that I was born to a similar station, and yet even Vader bends the knee to me?" a massive projection of the man thundered despite his genteel elocution. Indeed, he towered over them in both station and stature. Lord Vader was not to be trifled with, and yet the Grand Moff did not even render his title.
"This man and I are of the same mind. This tragedy has befallen the Empire despite his utmost diligence and yet you vultures treat him as carrion for your own careers? He is just as loyal to the Empire as I, yet you would throw his life away as if he were part of the rebel alliance and a traitor? I have the mind to execute all of you instead," he admonished the jury. His soft-spoken voice amplified the fear and intimidation his station and his nature compelled.
It was extreme, but he certainly had the sway to make the threat more than credible. The title of Grand Moff carried a large weight, but Tarkin's purported favor with the Emperor made this edict all but certain to be brought to fruition. There is always a bigger fish; to men like Tarkin, these Admirals were as replaceable as he.
"You will release him at once. Good day."
Tarkin nodded as his visage disappeared from the hologram. The Admirals present were as flummoxed as Gaunt. Tarkin and Gaunt were barely acquaintances, and yet Tarkin threatened to execute multiple Admirals on his behalf. Why?
Tarkin was ruthless and calculating, so there had to be some other motive. He owed Tarkin his life; but as is customary in the Empire your life was forever at the mercy of its savior. He counted his blessings that he was indentured to Tarkin, but he still harbored disdain for the implication. Tarkin could have him executed on a whim anyway, so it made little difference. Even more perplexing was that Tarkin had killed for much less, yet here he was saving someone who had lost a star destroyer. Gaunt stood silent until the bailiff arrived to remove his cuffs.
"Sir, Grand Moff Tarkin has requested an audience with you. Please follow me to the briefing room," the bailiff whispered to him.
Once again he was taken completely by surprise. Gaunt prided himself on his mental fortitude, and yet had found himself bewildered twice within minutes. When they reached the briefing room, the bailiff hastily exited; no sooner had the bailiff left the holoprojector flicked on and a projection of the Grand Moff towered over him.
"Good day, Commander Gaunt. I am sure that your most salient question is why I intervened on your behalf. The reason is simple: I have a special project in mind that requires massive engineering capital. The manner in which your star destroyer was decimated makes it more than clear to me that the scientific talents of these pirates would be of great use. I have chosen you because your combat record precedes itself. Though your experience is limited to small scale engagements, you and your crew have seen far more combat than most and this type of experience is the precise skill set needed to interdict pirates.
By that merit, I will assign you a new objective: pursue Nym at all costs, crush him, subjugate his engineers, and gather all useful materials possible. You will report directly to me and your mission will be kept completely secret. You will not contact another Imperial fleet under any circumstances, including for reinforcements. No expense will be spared in the accomplishment of your mission. A replacement for the late Bludgeoner will be requisitioned for you soon. You will not be privy to the nature of this project until you have regained my confidence. A star destroyer has been lost under your command; whether or not you are at fault is irrelevant," he spoke candidly.
"Should you fail to follow my orders, there will be no trial and I will ensure that your legacy is one only consistent of failure. Are we clear?" his tone descended to a snarl.
"Yes, sir," Gaunt cooly assented.
"Good. See to it that you and your complement are prepared as soon as possible. You are dismissed," Tarkin said as his voice ascended back to a professionally cordial tone.
Gaunt executed a salute that could only be sharper had Emperor himself issued these orders. Despite the fact that Tarkin had essentially enslaved him, Gaunt couldn't help but respect the Grand Moff. He had ground all of the Admirals present under his thumb, successfully hid his reason for defending Gaunt in a way that left very little room for questions, and then twisted the situation immediately to remind Gaunt of his failures which plied him to follow Tarkin's orders more literally.
Still, this situation was beyond puzzling. Normally Tarkin would not have spared a passing thought toward Gaunt's execution. Instead Tarkin defended him and used an emotional intimidation tactic that Gaunt was not even aware the Grand Moff was capable of. Whatever Tarkin had in mind was likely beyond comprehension even by Imperial standards. The details did not concern him right now, though. His present task was to put his very sparingly afforded second chance to good use.