Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars nor am I associated with those that do. This is a non-profit fan work written for the purpose of entertainment.


The Imperial: Arrowhead Command

Chapter 2 - Flight


From my earliest days in the Imperial Navy, I had the solidity of the chain of command drilled into my head. Everyone had a superior up until the very top, and if that superior were to perish there was always someone that could replace them. Yet, what happened when the very top of that pyramid was killed; the Emperor himself? The chain of command for the Navy was clearly defined in the regulations, but who was supposed to take over control of the Empire when the Emperor died?

For a moment, my mind toyed with the idea of disbelief. I could not believe that the Emperor was capable of dying, but in combat situations refusing to believe the situation before your eyes was a recipe for disaster. Almost against my will, the shock was pushed aside by discipline and training. With a breath to steady my rapidly beating heart, I turned on my heel and studied my crew.

They were all frozen, eyes glued to the transparisteel viewscreen with varying degrees of disbelief on their faces. Evidently, my initial fears were shared by the bridge crew at large as each attempted to accept the possibility - the certainty - that the Emperor was dead. There was no denying it, Governor Jerjerrod had announced the Emperor's arrival on the station, it had been repeated time and again in their briefings, and even reconfirmed by the bridge crew of the Death Star II. What's more, the head of their leadership had been decapitated in one movement. The Emperor was dead, alongside Admiral Piett and his staff. It was safe to assume that Lord Vader had been aboard either the vessel or station, and was thus lost in much the same fashion. That would mean that command fell upon the Pride of Tarlandia, having been serving as the secondary flagship of Death Squadron and the main communications relay for the fleet.

I took another breath before stealing my expression. My words served as a whip crack to get the crew moving.

"Lieutenant Screold, order the squadron to fall in with the Conqueror and be ready to move out. Maintain combat readiness, we are moving into the battle at my order," I announced, walking back into the bridge as the crew parted like waves before me. Screold, ever a credit to her training, quickly took to the task and began relaying my orders to the squadron at large. I continued giving orders, more to get the crew moving than out of any real need. I came to a stop when I reached the communications officer, who was trying to split his attention between the empty void ahead of the Conqueror and me.

"Open general fleet comms," I ordered, before raising my voice and addressing the sensor technician, "And sensors, identify some sort of formation, or the location of the Pride of Tarlandia."

Confirmations echoed across the bridge, and soon I was tapped into the general fleet comms for the entirety of Death Squadron. I almost wished I hadn't bothered, as the bridge was greeted by a cacophony of shouting, orders, and cries for help. The Pride of Tarlandia was supposed to organize and direct communications among the fleet, a task they now appeared to be incapable of. Command of the fleet had been thoroughly decapitated in a single strike, and now a dozen fleets that made up Death Squadron were left to squabble amongst themselves. Luckily for me and my section, we could find our fleet easily enough and rally on their position.

"Keep an ear open and update me when a chain of command emerges," I ordered, leaving the communications officer to his work. The bridge crew had mostly gotten over their shock now and were rushing to make the Conqueror ready to move. It was the height of foolishness to march blindly into a warzone, but it was either wait here and risk whatever punishment the new commanders could think up for sitting outside the battle or move to support any isolated pockets.

I opted for the latter option.

Soon, the Conqueror began to burn at maximum speed, followed by its menagerie of support vessels. At sub-light speed, it took some time for us to reach the battle proper, but in that time we began to piece together what had happened and who was in command. The Executor, flagship of the fleet and former ship of the late Lord Vader, had been destroyed at some point before the destruction of the Death Star. With it went Admiral Piett, the commanding officer of the operation in the absence of Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine. Roughly around that same time, the Pride of Tarlandia had also been lost and thus the centralized command structure of Death Squadron was frayed. Some officers had already cut their losses, fleeing the battlefield and jumping from the system. Even as a lowly Captain, a part of me recognized that the day could still have been ours had we rallied, yet the weakness of the Imperial chain of command was made all too apparent on this day. It was a revelation I would deal with for the years to come, but at that moment all I needed to do was rally to my fellows.

And then - finally - an order came through from some semblance of command. A "Captain Pellaeon" of the Chimarea finally gave the order for the fleet to retreat from the battle. There was no set location to retreat to, but at that point, I didn't much think the remaining officers cared. The reaction was fairly immediate. Sections and squadrons cut and fled, grouping back with their original comrades before leaving the system. Some ships, either by choice or the lack thereof, remained to fight the rebels to the bitter end. For my part, I kept my sensor and communications officers listening out for what had come of Arrowhead Command. The news we received varied from cataclysmic to merely concerning. Some claimed that the Whirlwind had been destroyed, while others instead claimed that the vessel had fled with the rest of Arrowhead Command when the order came through.

In the hours that came, I kept my section placed at the edge of the furthest planetary orbit, dodging rebel ships that came to investigate or scaring away those that remained persistent. The number of Imperial forces dwindled further until there was scarcely a handful of organized pockets of resistance remaining.

I was left with quite the conundrum - we had received no orders, barring that urging of Captain Pellaeon to retreat from the system. He was been forgotten? A trickle of fear went up my spine, but I quashed it just the same.

No. Captain Thoath wouldn't just abandon us out here; wouldn't just forget he had left part of the fleet on rearguard duty. Yet even the most hopeful part of me couldn't ignore reality. Forgotten or not, it was my duty to get me and my men out of this system safely. Yet, as I came to that decision, fate decided to intervene.

"Captain, we're receiving a hail request from the Eleemosynary." The name was unfamiliar enough to give me pause, wondering for a moment if the communications technician had misspoken or if I was hearing them incorrectly. Death Squadron was small enough that every Captain should have been familiar with every other ship of its weight class, but to my detriment, I did not recognize the name.

"Put them on," I ordered as I approached, placing myself in front of the communicator's camera and nodding to the technician. After a few moments, the console flickered to life. Instead of showcasing the video feed from the other side, text flashed across the screen reading: "video connection unsuccessful, audio only".

"This is the Conqueror," I said, but the words barely left my lips before whoever was on the other side was speaking.

"This is Grand Admiral Teshik of the Eleemosynary. We're sending our telemetry: fall in and assist."

Far from taken aback at the brusqueness of the order, I turned my gaze from the console to the sensor officer. A nod in my direction indicated the information transfer was successful.

"Received, Admiral. We are en route." With that, the communication was closed and the bridge returned to its earlier business. The technician overseeing the long-range scanners had already pulled up a report before I had even reached them. The distance was not so great as to make the time a major concern; a micro-jump and then full burn would see us there. However, the Eleemosynary was not facing a favorable matchup. Three rebel cruisers bore down on the vessel, supported by a collection of secondary and escort vessels. Even with the numbers I could bring to bear, it was likely that the rebels would call reinforcements of their own. The rebel presence in the system was now greater than that of the Empire, and while they had thus far decided to ignore my section there was little doubt in my mind they would let us rescue another vessel.

"Grand Admiral Teshik? The cyborg?" Lieutenant Screold asked, joining me at the scanner station as I gnawed at my lip. Though my fist was covering the nervous tick, I was still unable to stop if only subconsciously.

"The same," I responded, "I've not had the pleasure of meeting him, but reports indicated that he was aboard the Death Star II prior to its destruction."

"Would command not have fallen to him?" Screold asked after a moment of consideration.

"In that mess? It's a miracle that anyone could reign in the fleet," I said absently as the scanner readout began to appear. First was the Eleemosynary, a top-down silhouette of the star destroyer overlaid on a two-dimensional map of space. Listed next to a vessel were technical readouts and more exacting coordinates for its location. What came next was four rebel cruisers, thor unfamiliar and rounded shapes giving away their Mon Calamari origins. Three came at the Eleemosynary from the front, while a third came at its starboard side.

Further reports indicated that reinforcements were moving at sublight speeds to reinforce their fellows, placing the Star Destroyer and any would-be rescuers at a severe disadvantage. My lip gnawing had graduated now to worrying my knuckle, the salty taste of sweat barely registering to me. In my mind, indecision warred with cowardice and Imperial loyalty. On one hand, Admiral Teshik appeared unable or unwilling to retreat in the face of such odds and it was my duty as an officer of the Empire to render assistance. On the other hand, moving to assist may very well cost me my life, and that of my crew as well.

I closed my eyes and took in a breath, calming my frayed nerves and hyperactive mind. The disaster this day had been for the Empire could not be understated, and with every leader and planet lost the Empire's standing was worsened. This was not a matter of survival or assisting another Imperial, but rather acting in service to the Empire. It was not a choice, it was an obligation.

I let my breath out and opened my eyes.

"Upload the data to the command room," I ordered the technician before raising my voice and addressing the communications officer, "Order the section to fall in. Keep our formation tight and make way to the Eleemosynary with utmost haste."

Responses came to me in a chorus of voices, and the bridge became a storm of action once again. My breathing was steadier now as I calmed myself and set back into a combat mindset - there was little room now for nerves.

"Lieutenant Screold has the conn. Chief Matread, to the command room."

Screold gave me a tense salute before ordering a new heading for the helmsman. Leaving my flagship in her competent hands, Matread and I retreated from the main section of the bridge and into the adjacent room behind it. With a hiss, the blast door separated us from the rest of the bridge. The room dimmed before the holotable at the center of the room came to life, throwing up a three-dimensional representation of the Eleemosynary and its attackers.

True to the scanner report from before, two of the enemy cruisers were approaching the Eleemosynary from its front on a relatively similar plane and orientation. The third was coming at the Star Destroyer from below and the starboard assailant from above. As it was angled, the Eleemosynary could bring most of its guns to bear on three of its attackers, but the fourth could prove troublesome.

"The Intimidation reports minimal snub craft losses in the previous engagement, it can still field three full squadrons of fighters and a full squadron of bombers. Lieutenant Zanus reports that the Steadfast still has its complement of fighters, pairing that with the survivors of the Intimidation's fourth squadron and the survivors of the Torment, then we can account for an additional full fighter squadron."

"And us?"

"We suffer the near-total loss of the third squadron, but we can keep a full wing if we include the Interceptors. Bombers suffered zero losses."

That left us with two full wings, and half a wing of bombers ready for deployment. Given the lack of definitive information on the rebel cruisers, we could not account for their true fighter numbers. However, even if the Eleemosynary had lost its entire complement, we could still field a considerable strike force. There was one known variable, gathered from the shared battle-net between Imperial ships before the Pride of Tarlandia was seemingly lost: the expected weapon hardpoints of the vessels. They were split between ion cannons and medium turbolasers, with the former being favored by most vessels. They were the quintessential line holders, as I understood it, with powerful and redundant shielding, as showcased by their larger cousin a few hours earlier.

At that moment, communication with the main bridge was established and the quiet command center was flooded by the voices on the other end. My glance towards the communications officer had that volume lowered and isolated to Lieutenant Screold, limiting the sound pollution.

"Damage report, Captain," Were Screold's first words through the connection.

"Send it," I ordered, watching as text filled a section of the holotable. I cursed under my breath at the diagnosis: my little trick against the rebel heavy cruiser had fried the capacitors on most of the ion cannons or outright melted a few of their barrels. While ion cannons had never been the primary armament of the Conqueror, their loss severely limited our options against the rebel ships.

"Shut them all down. Inform the Intimidation that they are our main output of ion in this engagement."

"Sir."

"We still have our ion torpedoes for the bombers, sir," Matread offered. I nodded slowly at this information. However, I also had to consider the fact that those bombers were TIE-Bombers - slow, not maneuverable, and unshielded.

"Then let's hope the rebels are too distracted to ward them off. Communications, patch all squadron traffic through us."

Without the Pride of Tarlandia to piggyback off of, the Conqueror would need to serve as a makeshift nexus of communication for the section. The range would be limited, but in this engagement, it would need to suffice.

At sublight speeds, it took us well over half an hour to reach the Eleemosynary, but we had beaten the rebel reinforcements with time to spare. The other Star Destroyer appeared worse for wear, with two of its heavier turbolaser batteries on the port side visibly inoperable. Gouts of flame spewed from areas where the hull had broken, before quickly dissipating in the vacuum of space. Yet, despite the damage it had clearly sustained, the Eleemosynary continued its withering fire on the attacking cruisers. One had limped some distance away, a considerable amount of its superstructure exposed to the void, while the other three kept the larger vessel surrounded. They were winning, but it was slow going.

"Steadfast and Intrepid, break off and engage the isolated cruiser," The holographic images of the twin Victory Star Destroyers separated from the section, gunning their engines to max now that they didn't need to match the pace of the slower Imperial-class. A corvette raced to join them.

"Cut to cruising speed," Screold ordered on the bridge, allowing the Intimidation to overtake us. At last, the enemy cruisers began to react to our arrival. One broke off from the attack on the Eleemosynary to engage us while the injured vessel tried to continue limping away. Blinking lights began flickering around the Star Destroyer and rebel cruisers as the sensors began picking out snub craft. Only red designations were present, so either the Eleemosynary had lost her entire complement, or they were holding what remained of their fighters back.

"Chief, scramble the first-stage fighters and bombers. Their targets are the cruisers engaging the Eleemosynary. I leave them to your discretion."

"Captain."

The Intimidation reached effective firing range before the rebel cruiser, opened up with its heavier turbolaser batteries and ion cannons. At this range, even with a target as large as the cruiser, the ion cannons missed more than they hit. Still, the opening salvos rattled the cruiser, if its peeling off from the charge was any indicator. It oriented itself back, letting the underside of its shields take the preliminary bombardment. Either the rebel officer did not know the strength of his shields, or he had taken enough damage to fear the shields breaking after one salvo. Still, the shields appeared to hold and soon enough the rebels would begin their return fire.

"Viscount, take your section past the Intinimdation's starboard flank and support the Eleemosynary. Lieutenant Milgern, keep that cruiser occupied."

"Aye, Captain," Milgern responded, the image of his Star Destroyer continuing its advance and laying down heavy fire on its opponent. The Viscount and several frigates broke from my main force and followed behind the Intimidation, before peeling away on its starboard side. Flashes in my peripheral vision drew my attention to the injured cruiser soaking up concussion missile blasts to its unshielded hull. While the hologram did not go into exact detail, it was obvious the ship's weakened armor was unable to resist the missiles.

"Enemy bombers disengaging from the Eleemosynary. Squadron Herf-Besh, marking targets: intercept and destroy." Matread's voice was joined by a brief highlighting of the enemy fighters in question, their glowing holograms bridging the gap between ships. Holographic indicators for the TIE-Interceptor squadron flashed to life as they raced to meet the oncoming rebels.

"Enemy cruiser destroyed, Conqueror." A brilliant flash indicated the destruction of the injured cruiser, its wreckage splitting apart as the Victory Star Destroyers broke off.

"Move to assist the Eleemosynary, we will follow. Screold, ignore the cruiser and burn ahead, the Intimidation shall keep it distracted."

"Aye, Captain. Helm, maintain trajectory, ahead full. Raise starboard shields by fifty percent and redirect excess power to the sublight engines."

We couldn't feel it in the bridge, but the Conqueror rapidly reached its top speed and quickly overtook Intimidation. The remaining escorts followed behind us, though some opportunistic gunnery officers took the chance to give the rebel cruiser a few parting shots as they passed. It was at this moment that our interceptors met the enemy bombers and their escorts. Several small flashes came from the cloud of green and red holographic indicators, but no sooner had they begun their bout before less than a dozen of the rebels' numbers broke off and continued on their path toward my forces. Matread was speaking before I had time to address him.

"Snub fighters, likely with proton payloads. Nothing too dangerous given their numbers."

"Still, better safe than sorry," I muttered at Matread's dismissal, "Lieutenant?"

"Raising shields, sir. General brace!"

Screold's words were followed by a singular klaxon shriek, signalling to the crew to brace for the incoming strike if they were not already prepared. The remaining officers still standing - myself included - were quick to find seats and brace themselves on the holo table or nearby consoles. The digital representations of the enemy fighters rapidly approached the Conqueror, releasing their payloads before peeling off to retreat. The remaining squadrons of TIE-Fighters gave chase, but it was the smaller indicators that were my focus. Proton torpedoes, even those typically carried by snub craft, could be dangerous to an unaware or distracted capital ship.

The impact was anticlimactic: there was a dull roar outside the bulkhead, but not noticeable shaking in the ship itself. Watching the hologram, I saw that all the torpedoes fell short of their marks, impacting some invisible force surrounding the Conqueror.

"Kinetic shields holding at ninety-three percent," Screold announced, sounding pleased at the failure of the rebels. Certain now that the threat had passed, I pulled myself up out of the chair I had claimed. Matread had done the same, not pausing to point out that he was right regarding the minimal threat the rebel craft represented. As if he hadn't paused for a moment, Matread was back to orchestrating the squadrons.

In the few moments, we had been bracing, the Viscount and their escorts reached the effective range of their turbolasers and had begun pummeling the nearest of the two unengaged cruisers. While their combined firepower was not enough to damage the larger vessel, they were enough to draw a portion of its attention and energy off of the Eleemosynary. The long-range return fire was half-hearted at best and was either nimbly dodged by the Carracks or ignored entirely by the Strike cruiser.

On the topic of the injured Star Destroyer, with the distraction of its assailants, the ship managed to fully turn itself and face its last attacker. The rebel cruiser lacked the firepower to pummel through the front armor of an Imperial-class with any speed, and with the bombers and cruisers bearing down on it, the rebels finally cut their losses. Down one already and another of their number in a losing battle, the remaining two rebel ships broke off from their independent engagements and flee for the nearest friendly battlegroup.

However, the one being engaged by the Viscount was forced to quickly cut power to its engines and raise its shields. A barrage of missiles slammed into the barrier not more than a couple of moments later, courtesy of the encroaching Steadfast and Intrepid. The Eleemosynary appeared content to sit back and let my forces do the fighting now, so the rebel cruiser was stuck. It was facing the wrong direction to engage its attacks, if one discounted that the Victory cruisers were still well beyond its effective range. Even still, turning around would lose the cruiser time if it wanted to make a clean getaway, considering that my Star Destroyer was still approaching.

The decision was taken out of the rebel commander's hands as the TIE-Bombers, lumbering as they were, finally reached the ship. Small flashes on the holo table indicated that they had fired their payload, and a moment later a brilliant flash indicated they had breached the shields of the rebel ship. The turbolaser fire that followed ensured their destruction. It was a fate shared with the other vessel fighting the Intimidation, as its armor buckled and hull split under the concentrated fire. All in all, the battle had ended in our favor as I recalled the remaining forces chasing away the surviving vessel. However, victory would be short-lived if we stayed here for much longer. Sensor indicated that the rebel ships were approaching with utmost haste.

"Raise comms with the Eleemosynary," I ordered as I left the command room, blinking at the sudden light that had been absent around the holo table. Matread remained behind, coordinating the fighters and bombers back into the hangar bays of the surviving vessels wherever they would fit. The officer was quick in following my commands, and it appeared that the Eleemosynary still had an operable communications system. At the officer's signal, I began speaking.

"Eleemosynary, this is the Conqueror. The enemy forces have been repulsed, what is your status-"

"Conqueror, I shall be taking over this section. Form up on the Eleemosynary and prepare to receive rebel reinforcements." The gruff voice of the Grand Admiral cut me off, causing me to splutter for a second as I had not expected his words. It took me more than a few moments to understand what he had said, and it took everything in me not to exclaim my confusion.

"Admiral, we've neither the resources nor the ships to face the entire rebel force," I reasoned, attempting to not make my words combative or detracting of the ranking officer. Not only was it not in my nature to speak out like this, but it was an unspoken rule of the Navy to never speak against one's superiors, be it in private or publicly. Only the most naive or ambitious would try, but few would make such an attempt against a Grand Admiral. Yet, despite my nature, I knew that our defeat would be certain. Despite the relatively fresh state of my forces, the Eleemosynary appeared to be heavily damaged. Two fully operational Star Destroyers, an injured third, and a motely collection of escorts ships was hardly the intimidating force.

"Then we shall die an honorable death avenging our Emperor and this defeat, Captain." The tone of Teshik was dismissive at first, but now there was clear hostility and derision. I grit my teeth, fighting down the urge to worry my lip as I thought out what to say next.

"The fleet has already withdrawn from the system, sir. We must rally our forces and put forth a unified strike."

"I will not have a lowly escort Captain speak to me about sound tactic." Evidently, the designation for my section were displayed alongside out IFF tags.

"Admiral, it would be the height of foolishness to play into the rebels hands now," I spke quickly as Screold approached, a worried look to her otherwise stern expression - bad news, "We must allow cooler heads to prevail and plan an appropriate response to today's events. All we will be doing is sacrificing loyal Imperial lives and warships for a suicide attempt at revenge!"

Of course, it was also the height of foolishness to attempt and play at the Admiral's compassion for his men. Teshik had earned a reputation throughout the years as a brutal and hard man, viewed as an attack dog - a thing - for the Empire. I had no intention of remaining, but it would look poorly upon me if I left the Admiral to die without trying to escort him to safety. Nor could I forgive myself for abandoning my fellows to the tender mercies of the rebels.

"Rebel ships managed a microjump, they are fifteen minutes out at their current speeds," Screold whispered in my ear, earning a nod. Though she still had command of the Conqueror, only I could give the order to retreat. I had already accepted Teshik's resolve to die here and sacrifice his men, and made to signal for the operator to change our channel back to the section. Then, Teshik spoke again with a sigh.

"... Your reason is sound, Captain. Our hyperdrive is operational, plot us a course out of this damned system," The man sounded almost defeated, even over the communication speaker. I blinked, more surprised than anything that my words spoken in desperation had managed to get through to him.

"Forwarding course now," I responded mechanically, muting the communicator and staring unblinkingly at Screold. Even she seemed surprised that I had talked a Grand Admiral down, mouthing the word: 'really' to me. I gave a minute shrug, uncertain if she picked up the movement.

"Navigation, chart us a course out of here. Whatever's quickest, just get us out!" I ordered, walking over to the command pit as if that would add emphasis to my order. The pit officer repeated the command unnecessarily, but I found that following procedure calmed my nerves as well so I did not begrudge the man. I pointed back at the communications officer I had just walked away from, continuing my orders.

"Keep the Eleemosynary between us and the Intimidation."

"Aye, sir!"

Almost as one, the three Star Destroyers turned to face the nearest hyperspace egress point in the system. It was a clear shot, away from the wreckage of the Death Star and the largest concentration of rebel forces. My earlier concerns regarding the Eleemosynary were unfounded it seemed, as the other Star Destroyer kept pace even as emergency crews rushed to patch up any holes or put out major fires. While the port side heavy turbolasers still appeared inoperable, they no longer had gouts of plasma and flame shooting off of them, so I considered that an improvement.

"Six minutes to egress point, Captain," The pit officer nearest navigation announced to the bridge, causing a momentary flurry of action. The guns were locked in place, the hangard bays were closed, and the shields officers were ready at their station to lower their namesake. Ahead of us, the grey bodies of my lighter escorts acted as our vanguard.

We wasted no time in making a jump to light speed. The rebels were the nearer side of a full light minute behind us, and though it appeared they were no longer chasing us in earnest I was not eager to wait around and see. First, it was the escorts, their hyperdrives quicker to fire given the size of the ships, but soon our three Star Destroyers followed them into the dizzying miasma.


"Captain," I turned to face Matread as the officer approached, though nor before taking a cautionary step away from the command pit, "Grand Admiral Teshik is waiting for you on the holo."

I blinked, momentarily surprised, before thanking the officer and leaving for the command room. Certain that Screold would get us out of the Endor system safely, I left oversight of the section in her capable hands. The interior had been lit up once again, with the majority of the technician present still working at their station. A couple were stood nearer to the elevator, discussing something though they did stop long enough to salute me as I approached. I nodded to them, allowing the pair to return to their conversation as I fiddled with the holotable. Inserting my code cylinder into the available port, I used the security access to accept the priority message.

After a moment, the lights automatically dimmed - the effect of which was hampered somewhat by the light bleeding in from the main bridge - and the holo table flickered to life. It took a moment for the hologram to coalesce, but when the form of Teshik I had to fight down a flinch at his appearance.

The Commission for the Preservation of the New Order, or COMPNOR, had always placed a heavy emphasis on the purity of the human form. Alien genetics and obvious cybernetics were often frowned upon if not openly shunned within Imperial society, especially on those worlds with an overwhelming human population. A part of me wondered how much truth there was to the reputation of Grand Admiral Osvald Teshik as a brutal and emotionless officer, though looking at his face now I found it challenging to argue to the contrary.

For the most part, the left side of his face was left unmarred. His brown goatee still held much of its reddish-brown luster, but his age and the stresses of his life truly began to show in the lines along his face. His one good eye was sunken in a partially obscured by one bushing eyebrow seemingly stuck in a permanent squint. Even in the hologram, I could tell his white uniform was spotless and perfectly pressed, adding to the machine-like presence the man held. It was his other side that served to be the most noteworthy. The right side of his face was a mess of metal plates, criss-crossing wires, and a single, baleful red eye set into the manmade head. Even as Teshik's left eye blinked or gave subtle twitches to show that he was still human, that cybernetic eye remained still and unblinking at all times.

The damage that had claimed his face moved down his body as well. His right arm, hidden though it was in the sleeve of Teshik's tunic, was obvious mechanical. The way the sleeve hung off the arm, as if it had not been fitted for the appendage, gave away the straight edges of machined parts. All-in-all, Grand Admiral Teshik cut an intimidating figure even when he was not staring down at me with a severe and unabidding expression.

"Captain Tullius," The man said in place of a greeting, and though I was surprised he knew my name I saluted all the same.

"Admiral Teshik."

"Your logs indicate your section suffered battle damage, will you still be operable until we reach safe harbour?"

For a moment, I was confused as to how he had accessed that information given I had yet to release it to the Imperial battle records, before remembering that he was a Grand Admiral and likely had the authority to override the ship's security.

"Yes, Admiral. We suffered some losses prior to reaching your ship, but the remainer of the vessels are fully operational." I report, careful to not phrase our timely intervention as "helping" or "saving" the Grand Admiral. It was a lesson I took to heart as while Harrsk had never spoken to me and Captain Thoath was not an especially egotistic officer, it was dangerous to prod the ego of the admiralty. If Teshik noticed this, he did not show it.

"The same cannot be said for my vessel. What is the status of Death Squadron and the rest of the fleet? Who is in command?"

"We were getting mixed reports, sir. Some indicated Yag'Dhul in the Inner Rim, others supposedly retreated to Annaj. But without the Pride…"

"We're all blind… Very well, regardless of the squadron's fate, we need fuel and repairs. The Eleemosynary's connection to the holonet is offline, what is the nearest loyal Imperial base?"

I turned away from the Admiral to repeat the request to the command room's navigator, only to find the man already approaching with a datapad in hand. Evidently, the navigator had anticipated the request and went ahead with locating local depots. I gave a nod of thanks at his salute, making note of where the officer had been seated as his name escaped me at that moment. While naval doctrine typical frowned on the ranks acting without orders, I was never one to refuse positive initiative from my crew.

The list was organized with the present fuel of my section, but at this end of the galaxy choices were sparse. Some of the names were passingly familiar, as the officers had all been informed where the nearest Imperial supply depots or points-of-interest were in this sector. Bakura, Annaj, Ponemah; just to name a few. Bakura was out of the question; we were moving away from the world and the navigator placed it as being an additional week trip if we were to turn around. Annaj would be the next logical choice, being the supply depot for Death Squadron, but then it became an issue of distance. Had we escaped along the designated hyperlane connecting the Endor system to Annaj, we wouldn't have had an issue. However, in our haste to escape, we had not taken the correct egress point. Our current trajectory put us on course for the Vasha System, one so minor it had not even been included in my sector reports. However, we could jump for Ponemah and Wrath Station, the Imperial base overseeing the Moddell Sector.

I voiced as much to Teshik, who was silent for a moment before responding.

"Wrath Station? My flag was too heavily damaged, I need to stop and refuel if I'm to make it."

"We could make a stop in a local system and send one of my sections ahead to get support?" I offered, eyes darting over the map as if it would suddenly offer me a solution.

"Out of the question. I've no doubt the rebels are scouring this sector for any remnants of Death Squadron. Sending a ship out on its own will weaken us more than I am willing to accept."

I hum for a moment before finally picking out a system. Vasha - which we were already en route to - had a minor space station that was likely acting as a trading post out on this corner of the galaxy. Scarcely any information was available on the databanks, but it was our only option that was not back toward the bulk of the rebel fleet.

"Vasha may be our only recourse then, sir. A small trading post and no Imperial presence, notable or otherwise. We can likely appropriate the resources we need to make our way to Wrath Station."

If the station was still operational or in Imperial hands, of course. The disaster at Endor had likely expanded across the sector as Death Squadron scattered to the winds. Still, we had three mostly operational Star Destroyers to our number plus the collection of escort ships: unless we met the entire rebel fleet, we could just strong-arm any hesitant administrators into doing what we wanted. It was hardly the noblest tactic, but in the debate between honor and survival, I would pick the latter in a heartbeat.

Breathing in a sigh, I turned back to the communicator as Teshik spoke.

"Vasha? … Desert world, ostensibly loyal. Their lack of garrison will at least guarantee their cooperation. Very well, set course for that system, Captain."

"Sir," I salute, as the hologram of Tashik flickered and died.

At the edge of an uninhabited system, three Star Destroyers and their escorts briefly exit hyperspace. They spent all of half an hour there, reorganizing before rushing to the nearest egress point and leaving the system as quickly as they arrived. Trudging along, unnoticed by the small squadron, an old Imperial probe blinked softly, sending its distress signal into the uncaring void.


A/N:

No fleet changes this time between last chapter and this one, so I'll just respond to a few reviews.

Havalt300 - I am a massive Empire fanboy, and the lack of Imperial POV outside the usual Star Wars cast - Luke, Vader, Han, Leia - is far and few between.

DarkSideUSer - While I intend to mess with the timeline a bit with the introduction/survival of Tullius, as evidenced by this chapter, there are some things that either aren't within the expected time frame of this story or would change the power dynamic in such a way that it would either make our cast too strong or too weak very early on. While Tullius will be involved in what we might call "Legends Canon" for a bit, he'll be off doing his own thing for a good amount of this story. That's not to say he'll be completely removed, his very presence will be shaking things up, but he won't be shaking hands with the upper echelons of the galaxy on a regular basis… For now. Given my melding of Canon and Legends, Tullius will have some opinions on how the Ruling Council and "Loyalist" cliques conduct themselves.

DarthZanus - Your wish is my command, Lieutenant Zanus.

Wildk - As a Thrawn's Revenge addict, I am partial to Sander Delvardus - especially back in 3.2, as he was neutered in 3.3. However, there isn't really much within the frame of the story that would help Delvardus get his act together. Without spoiling anything, our MC will be operating at least relatively close to Delvardus, ostensibly making them enemies. The sad reality for Delvardus is that he was neither as skilled as Zsinj nor as cautious as Kaine.