Chapter 16: Guess Who's Back
39:6:7 GrS
Imperial Naval Shipyard over Belgaroth
Imperial-I Class Star Destroyer Adamant
Fifteen days. We had been sitting over this rotting, acid drenched excuse of a planet for two whole weeks and a day.
Fifteen days of utter boredom.
Maybe it was my fault. I hadn't done any research into just what types of shipyards were at Belgaroth, instead assuming that the naval facilities would be up to the regular standard. The regular standard of being able to handle more than a single star destroyer at once. The shipyard, as it was generously called, was able to handle either my two Victory-IIs or the Adamant before it could no longer berth any ships. Okay, it was definitely my fault for not doing research.
The two weeks had been a slog, no two ways about it, but it had done wonders for the fleet morale. The men and women having the first chance in months to commence with what R&R could be had. Subsequent dry combat drills had shown a marked improvement from reported combat scores taken during the campaign against Harrsk.
But all the drills in the galaxy couldn't give me things to do besides read reports and train. I'd spent years on the hunt, fulfilling the lifetime of mental training the Inquisitorius had...given me. Being locked in a single location through no choice of my own grated on my nerves.
The sole bright spot during the fleet's time in this shipyard doldrum was the arrival of Yiaso's promised reinforcements, headed by an old acquaintance, at the start of the second week. The VIISD Boundless had been the third Victory-II that I had encountered months ago during the immediate aftermath of Palpatine's death(or was it first death?). The Boundless had gone its separate ways from my new formation soon after we had gotten ahead of the forces of whatever the name of that fop in charge of Eriadu was. Yiaso, more likely whoever Yiaso put in charge of gathering up my reinforcements, had probably included the Boundless due to prior association.
The Boundless hadn't come along however. A VSD Peregrin had come along to round off the representatives from the Victory-class line, and according to Masal, provide the fleet with much needed ship grade missile firepower. The four Victories had been grouped together in a Heavy Attack line. The line being the basic naval unit of organization. Masal had seen fit to give me a full on educational lecture on the structure of the Imperial Navy, on the off chance that I hadn't learned about the, and I quote, "greatest armada of space faring vessels to ever sail the galaxy.". I did know how the Imperial Navy functioned as a matter of fact, but I sat through Masal's enthusiastic lectures nonetheless. Masal provided valuable first hand experience about the unspoken biases that permeated the ranks of the Navy and knowledge was a currency unto itself.
Yiaso hadn't just sent two Victory-class Star Destroyers however. Five Vindicator-class heavy cruisers had joined with the now veteran Fist of Asgar, forming the fleet's second Heavy Assault line. The non-heavy cruisers had been joined into an Assault Line and replacement Gozantis had filled the ranks of the fleet's new Skirmish line. The final member of the reinforcements, a third highly valued Ton-Falk carrier, allowed the creation of a Troop line, whose name was slightly disingenuous on account of the members of the troop line being more concerned with starfighters than Imperial divisions, but since there was no designation for a Carrier line, it was what we were stuck with calling the line. The Fleet had been brought up to thirty-three warships, composed into five lines with the Adamant as the flagship of the fleet and centerpiece of any combat operations. Lines were commanded by imaginatively titled, captain-of-the-line.
While the fleet was under my command, and I wasn't going to be changing that ever, Masal had overall seniority among the naval ranks due to being the captain of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. So he got the job of coordinating the other ships in battle. He already did this but I had written up orders to make it official.
It was nice for my ego to consider that if I wasn't an Inquisitor that I would currently be an Admiral, as I was now in command of a Heavy Squadron.
Now the Fleet had some bigger teeth to bite into the flanks of it's next target: Kosh Teradoc and his breakaway fleet, which records showed to be an over-strength Battle Squadron, seventy-ish ships centered around Teradoc's Imperial-II Class Star Destroyer Lancet. I was still outnumbered, but it was only a two to one advantage and Teradoc hadn't been able to take any other Imperial-classes with him, unlike Harrsk.
Which means this assignment should be a walk in the park right? Wrong. Because Kosh Teradoc was only one of several warlords that had emerged in the eastern Deep Core(and its periphery systems in the Core). He wasn't even the major warlord of this area. But Kosh Teradoc was the brother of Treuten Teradoc, the warlord of the breakaway Greater Maldrood. Treuten was untouchable for the time being, so the Ruling Council had decided to punish the next best thing, his brother. Not to malign Kosh's talent, his rise up the ranks of the navy had been as meterioc as Treutens'.
However there was a problem: the Teradoc brothers hated each other. Every file I could grab about the two had this fact front and center. ISB, the many heads of Imperial Intelligence's hydra, Inquisitoroius, even the morons over at COMPNOR had managed to clue into this fact. How the "rulers" of the Empire hadn't I don't know. Maybe they did know and all of this was just a way to show the public that warlords wouldn't go unpunished.
The thought that I was a showpiece for the media started me down a particularly enraging path but I internally spun away from that. At the very least I had a solid chance to bring Kosh Teradoc down, not just help contain him like with Harrsk. In order to do that, I needed more recent intelligence about the eastern Deep Core. Get a large amount of first hand reports from patrol ships and then put Inquisitorious analytical training to work.
I did have to get away from this disgusting planet named Belgaroth before any of that could begin. I activated my commlink and rang the shipyard administrator.
"This is the Inquisitor. When will the repair efforts be completed on the last of my ships?" The nervous, fairly pudgy woman gave me the numbers.
"Unacceptable Administrator Yalen." I put on an aristocratic sneer to enforce the displeasure I felt. "You will finish the repairs within the next planetary half-cycle, or the full weight of my displeasure will be brought down upon you. For your sake, hurry up."
I ended the call. If that did make her put some effort into her work, then a stint under my "interrogator tools" would put some pep in her step. I might need to do that anyways, my skills would rust if they went unpracticed for too long.
39:6:11 GrS
In Orbit over Planet 358271-99, The Core.
As it turned out, the administrator didn't end up under the knife for inadequate performances. The shipyard had a remarkable uptick in productivity after my message, and the fleet had sailed out of Belgaroth's orbit for the first and, it better be, the last time. We'd rejoined the Rimma Trade Route briefly, before making a sharp turn, metaphorically speaking, onto the Andara Bypass, allowing us to fly across the breadth of the southern Core to merge onto the Corellian Trade Spine at Gandeal. A short jaunt up the Spine took us to Rehemsa, before leaving the main and well-traveled hyperlanes to hoof it through the boonies. Using the mega hyperspace Trade Routes and Trade Spine lanes, it had taken a day, if that, to make it to Rehemsa. We'd spent three days getting to this planet alone and travel time would get worse when we ventured into the Deep Core again, this I knew from experience.
Tactically, the good news was that the warlord's fighting hadn't spilled over to the Corellian Trade Spine, thereby disturbing one of the vital arteries of galactic trade. So the fleet had some spare time to burn before making a move into the mess to hunt Kosh Teradoc down.
So I had redirected the fleet to go hunting for this planet. The name of the planet was unknown to me and analysis from the Adamant's astronavigation department put this planet so out of the way of established hyperspace routes, you would have to have the exact coordinates in order to be able to find this planet. Only other way to get to this planet would be just...happen upon it when making a series of blind jumps in this area of the galaxy. Theoretically you would find it, after some seventy-nine years had passed.
Just happened that I had the exact coordinates of the planet in my head, courtesy of the Dark Side I summoned during a botched ritual. It had felt truly ancient when I had summoned it. Ancient was the wrong word, the Dark Side on Prakith was ancient, what I called up was primeval. I could sense the same feeling of primeval-ness coming from the planet.
A heady mixture of anticipation and fear rumbled around my head. This place could be very dangerous. The Sith, or another old Dark Side group going off the location of this planet, had set up shop here for a long time, enough that the very Force signature of the planet had turned to the Dark Side. Or had engaged in such powerful Dark Side sorcery that remnants of it lingered to this day.
Oh if anything had survived down there, then I needed it. The power that could be gained made me giddy. The desire of the primeval Dark Side I summoned to see me go to this planet made me terrified. Nothing ventured, nothing gained however.
I summoned a low ranking officer to my quarters. "Prepare my shuttle and an escort flight. I'm heading down to the surface."
The Lambda shuttle rumbled as it passed into the atmosphere, alerting me that we'd entered the planet proper. Around me, the white forms of Captain Zeffo's scout troopers readied themselves, checking over blaster rifles and pistols. A duo of Sentinel class land craft flanked my Lambda while a squadron of TIE fighters provided overwatch.
"Beginning final approach." The pilot of the Lambda announced over the intercom.
A minute later, the pilot spoke again. "Landing site Aurek is clear, I repeat landing site Aurek is clear. Atmosphere readouts are green, air is breathable. Beginning landing procedures."
It was a smooth landing, all things considered. We only lurched side to side a few times, and then the landing ramp was extended. Hot air rushed into the cabin, strong enough to ruffle my hair. For the first time in a year, I tasted the fresh air of a real living world. Not a world that had been transformed into an acropolis or one so harsh it was nearly uninhabitable. The air of a world that had plants and water and animals on it. How I had missed it.
"Secure the perimeter!" Captain Zeffo barked, and he and his scout troopers surged down the ramp. E-11s snapped up to armored shoulders as they swept the dusty plain the shuttles had landed in. Geographically speaking, this planet showed its age. The oceans of yesteryear had gradually retreated, until there was only a single saltwater body on the planet, turning what looked like the grassy lowlands into dusty plains. The large and dominant plateaus of the planet hosted the remaining flora and fauna, giving the impression of a rust red ocean with green islands.
"Clear!" Called out Zeffo as I finished my walk down the ramp. Dirt crunched under my black boots and I realized that the dust was going to coat everything I was wearing by the time I left. A job for the cleaning droids at least.
We landed on the largest of the dust plains, the nearest green plateau was...oh, a day's walk by my estimates. Might seem moronic to not take the high ground but down here we had complete control of the area and an unobstructed view to watch for hostiles.
"Fortify this location Captain. You might be here for a few days." I told the captain as I walked up to him, my own helmet secured underarm.
"Are you going somewhere sir?" Zeffo cautiously asked, doing his best to appear emotionless. Zeffo has a new placement in my stormtrooper battalion, and it seems he still hadn't adjusted to having his direct superior be on the front with him. I would have thought Atten had handled that.
"Yes I am, Captain. Right now as a matter of fact, so I'll be borrowing one of your speeders." I said. "Report in every six hours on your status and I suggest that you don't assume we're alone down here."
"Of course sir. Trooper!" Zeffo switched to company internal comms, as he wordlessly ordered a scout trooper to prepare a speeder bike for me. "Do you know who we can expect to face sir?"
"Not who Captain, but what. Someone left their mark on this planet, long ago, and they didn't do it with entirely technological means. If you value your life Zeffo, don't underestimate this place." Knowing that I had been sufficiently mysterious enough to raise Zeffo's hackles, thereby ensuring that he would keep the encampment on full alert, I went to mount the speeder bike that had been unloaded from one of the Sentinel shuttles.
Before I could hop onto the bike, one of the non-stormtrooper engineers came up to me. "Sir, the report on the planet you requested just came down sir. Here it is sir!"
"Dismissed." I quickly waved the hapless man away, the fear he emitted entirely unappealing to me. I preferred fear to be something I caused deliberately, to make it more savory.
The report was nothing that I hadn't already gotten my hands on up on the Adamant but the intelligence department did find the official name of Planet 358271-99. The last reference to it, official or otherwise it seemed, was from an astronavigation report on planetary drift along the Corellian Trade Spine in 788 bGrS authored by a group that had been expunged from all Imperial records. That alone made this planet worth investigating, because if the Jedi wanted to know badly enough to send their own to find it, I wanted to know what drew them here.
So back then they had called this planet Lettow.
Now there was a suitably dignified sounding name. The way it rolled off my tongue when I said it made it seem like even the name had secrets to uncover. First I had to get to the place that held the secrets, and the, well, compass the Dark Side had put into my head pointed me eastwards.
So onto the speeder bike I climbed, and with a pitched whine I raced out into the wider dust plain, chasing the horizon with a yellow-orange sun hanging overhead.
A/N: Hope my American readers had a fun Independence Day and that you were able to set off as many fireworks as pleased you, I know I did. God Bless and Protect the United States of America!
So we come to a planet that I've been moving Andorak towards for a while(in my plan for the story) and here we are. I can't wait to write some more tomb raiding on the lost planet of Lettow. The Deep Core Defense Fleet is no longer a fleet in name or so much of a paper tiger when going up against warlords and defectors as it previously was. Comments and the like are appreciated as always. See you all next time.