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 8 - Galantos III
Lieutenant Ashsca Screold
"I will be remaining on Black-15 for the foreseeable future. As such, there are several tasks I require you to oversee," Tullius spoke with the usual dry and aloof cadence he used in day-to-day life, yet despite that familiarity, I winced internally. There was an unfamiliar sharpness in his tone, how some words were spoken or how a sentence stopped that betrayed his true emotions - Tullius was angry. At the situation undoubtedly, but the harshness of his stare made it clear some was directed toward me.
"Speak with Colonel Maab, I want my dissatisfaction with his actions on Bakura known - he has also avoided reporting our material losses on the world - or gains, as it were. I am not unaware of the walkers that have mysteriously entered my storage bays. After that, I need an accounting of our fighter situation. Speak with Matread and gather the flight officers - I want plans written out on how to best evenly divide our remaining fighters across the section. The local quartermaster has been distinctly unhelpful in that regard. Also, this situation on the Escapade needs to be resolved until we reach the loyalist space. Speak with Thawne and the ranking officials aboard, and find out if we need to deploy more security to the vessel. There is also the matter of the Wrath crew we spirited away. Find out what happened to them, and compile a list of our options regarding them."
"Yes, sir," I responded sharply, keeping my back straight and eyes level as Tullius rattled off his orders rapidly.
"... Also, speak to the Mining Guild representatives. I would wager they have some idea where we can offload that mineral cargo. Beyond that, keep me updated on the status of the vessel. Ensure none of the Yevethans are left alone, even for a moment - even if you need to post Navytrooper squads to follow them!"
I winced again but nodded my understanding.
"Yes, sir." My tone was the same as I repeated the phrase. With that, Tullius cut the communication and I was left alone in the bridge conference room once again. A sigh escaped my lips before I could stop myself. It was a test, that much was obvious. My… lapse in judgment regarding the Mining Guild and Panatha situation had shaken his faith in me, and now I needed to prove I was worthy of it again. Time was also of the essence, though not just out of fear of Tullius's diminishing patience. I knew my position was perilous; I was a young officer and one of a lower rank compared to my authority. Everyone wanted to jockey for the position as Tullius's favored subordinate, outside perhaps Matread and Harand. Especially when the man was not present, where he could see and disapprove of any political maneuvering from the crew.
I straightened my back and fought my expression back into practiced indifference. Feeling markedly more presentable, I turned about and entered the bridge once more. It was notably empty now, a skeleton shift made up mostly of reservist crew members or officers pulled from the secondary bridge. The main shifts were getting their well-deserved rest, much like the rest of the crew that had been working non-stop since Bakura - and before. It was a true reprieve, unlike that which we had on the expedition from Bakura to N'zoth.
The tall, stooped figure of Harand drew my attention as he turned to face me. His dark eyes were unchanging as I met his gaze. I merely nodded at him before making my way to the elevator, calling a tram to meet me at the bottom.
There was a distinct calm in the lower decks of the Conqueror - distinct, but hesitant. Sailors chatted softly in the halls, but their voices were always kept low as if waiting for an alarm klaxon to blare. Navytroopers continued their patrols in full kit, but some of the tension seemed to vanish from their shoulders. I could not speak for the rest of the section, but on the Conqueror at least there was a sense of tentative relaxation. It was telling of what the crew had been through over the last weeks that they treated any calm with suspicion. In time, this would pass. Here in the depths of Black Sword Command's space, we were unlikely to be accosted by rebels or pirates or rampaging alien fleets. Unless, of course, we were to get caught up in a fight against or for the local Imperial fleet. Given the track record thus far, I was keeping my hopes at a reasonable level.
There was a noticeable increase in activity the lower my tram took me, loadlifter droids and repulsor sleds transporting military hardware between the cargo bays. Unfortunately, this activity appeared centered around the ventral hangar bay - my destination. More cargo was filling the hallways the further we went - racks of blasters, crates of explosives, deconstructed EWEB turrets. The passage became so packed that a squad of Armytroopers had the press themselves to the walls just to avoid being run over- Wait.
The Conqueror didn't have an Armytrooper complement. While she had more than enough space to carry a full ground force, as all Imperial Star Destroyers did, the Conqueror had never been dedicated toward the independent operations such an army was needed for. The Conqueror was a purely combat vessel, like most of Arrowhead Command's main fleet. Acclamators fulfilled that duty traditionally, and so it was rare that this ship carried anything more than her security complement and a small garrison of Stormtroopers. Last I checked, the Conqueror did not have an Armytrooper detachment - though it was possible we had found them on Bakura, or Wrath, and somewhere in between.
"Driver, hold." I order, reaching and grabbing the man's shoulder. He acquiesced, bringing us to a halt next to the squad of Armytroopers. Recognizing either me or the rank, the men saluted.
"Sergeant," I said, noting the man's pauldron - it was naval security black, "What unit are you from."
"522nd Naval Security, sir," The man rattled off immediately, "Conqueror Detachment."
"Why are naval security in Armytrooper uniforms?" I ask, making my tone stern despite being more curious than annoyed. The man froze, straightening further and looking slightly past my head. He had discipline enough not to glance at his fellows, who all shifted at my scrutiny.
"Sir! This equipment was seized from the Bakuran garrison under orders of Colonel Maab!"
"And so you decided to wear it? Take it for a little spin?" I drawl, eyes passing over the armor. Now that I was closer, it was clear none of these men had worn Armytrooper plates or uniforms. While I was no expert, I could identify a crooked strap there, a tunic cinched wrong there. Navytroopers did not traditionally wear armor, and if they did it was far lighter than what the men standing before me were wearing now.
"Uh…" The man stuttered before quickly finding himself again, "Er… In accordance with Imperial Military Doctrine Handbook page 337, section 8, subsection 8b-"
I zoned the man out as he began to recite the justification for battlefield looting his superior had quoted to him and looked down the hallways again. With closer inspection, it was also clear that most of the hardware was not ours. Loose rocket launchers were stacked precariously against one wall, something I could now identify as a speeder bike with a tarp thrown over it, and so much more. Much of the equipment and the crates they occupied were stamped with the emblem of the Imperial Army.
"-Equipment found and seized by naval security personnel may be used with approval, see page-"
"Why is all of this out here," I interrupted the man, gesturing to the stacked items. The man stumbled mid sentence, finally diverting his gaze from me to take in the mess. He swallowed, seemingly relieved that my attention was no longer on him and his equipment.
"Colonel Maab and Quartermaster Miraan ordered full stock to be taken of the Conqueror's storage bays. Ordinarily this would be done using whatever station we're docked with to hold goods, but Colonel Maab wanted it all done in-house. Security, sir."
Security, or Maab didn't want some officer on Black-15 seizing the hardware he rightfully stole.
"Keep going," I ordered the driver, falling back into my seat. We left the navytroopers behind, racing down the hallways and toward the ventral hangard bay. It was a small mercy that the closer we got to the main hangar bay, the more organized the mess seemed to become. Clearly, Maab had at some point cared about keeping an organized system for his loot before giving up.
Wide double doors greeted us, kept open and so allowing me to witness the chaos of the hangar bay. Every square inch seemed to be filled, cargo crates stacked half a dozen tall with pathways barely as wide as one to move between them. Lifter droids lurched unsteadily, balancing their loads between the durasteel maze while AT-PT walkers - refit with a pair of large vice-like arms - shoved aside containers to make room. Far on the other end of the hangar bay, dangerously close to the shielding that separated the void from the ship's internal atmosphere, two large gangways sat alongside a pair of AT-AT walkers.
"For the love of…" I breathed, before sucking in a sharp breath - suddenly outraged. Tullius was making a problem about the ingots I took when the hangar bay looked like this?! It wasn't as if this all appeared yesterday, the weeks since we had left Bakura he had to have-
Oh, right. He was relieved of command on medical advice. On my advice. I sighed, a low and pained noise - I could have blamed Matread or Harand, they were the more senior officers, but I would not let excuses justify incompetence. I dismounted the tram, it would be no use here, and marched into the hangar bay.
Technicians directed me toward Colonel Maab, a trail that led deeper and deeper into the jungle of containers and cargo - some marked, but much more not. On the other side of the sea, a clearing was made - a buffer around the large walkers. A large hovering mechno-chair stood before them, seated atop it a stout and wide man in Navytrooper black.
Colonel Barton Maab, commanding officer of the Conqueror's security forces and those of the rest of the section. He also oversaw the away teams, when the need arose for the section to deploy its own meager ground forces. Regrettably, I knew very little about him - it was rare that I even saw him, little more than dealt with the enigmatic Colonel. He had been on the Conqueror for longer than I had been and likely was one of her most senior officers - if only by time-served.
It was regrettable, as otherwise we might have been forewarned about his ardent kleptomania. I walked up to the Colonel, hands at my back. He did not turn to face me. Maab's head was tilted back, his face angled up the walkers as he stared at them. I was briefly off-put, thinking the man was wasting time admiring his loot than organizing this mess, before his voice reached me over the roar of machinery.
"... I know 74z's need maintenance, but I don't want to waste time with them when we don't have riders. Stick them in the back… No, I haven't spoken to Tullius yet, he isn't answering my messages… No, I… I don't know, deal with it," The man held a communicator in one tight fist, eyes glazed over as he spoke with whoever was on the other end. An earpiece sat snug in his left ear, keeping private his conversation with whoever was on the other end.
From the front, Maab's features were more easily definable. Maab was indeed wide, but the distribution of his fat was far from consistent. His cheeks were wide and rosy, or what I could see in any case. His cheeks were hidden but sideburns, though far from the more tasteful and trimmed affair on Tullius. They were massive, crawling down the sides of his face like great bushes before looping up around his cheeks and into an equally massive and obscene mustache. The brown whiskers were neatly trimmed and groomed, but appeared to fray despite Maab's best efforts.
Dark, sunken eyes flicked to me as I walked into the Colonel's range of vision, but he did not stop speaking.
"Yes… I see, well, deal with it. Ah, one moment," He lowered the communicator and turned to face me fully, "Lieutenant Screold? To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the command bridge?"
"Colonel Maab," I said, saluting the man sharply before continuing, "Captain Tullius requested that I speak to you about the events on Bakura."
"Events on Bakura? Ah, you mean the seizure of the capital? Textbook work, really, those Bakuran chaps weren't much of a fight. I think the Bakuran garrison put up more of a struggle when we liberated those walkers! Ah, you should have seen the look on their faces, Lieutenant - of course, they weren't in much position to refuse, not with the rebels knocking down their doors."
I blinked, mildly impressed Maab had managed to say all that in a single breath and without pause. After a moment, I shook my head and addressed the Colonel again.
"No, not that… At least, not right now. I was referring to the events preceding the Bakuran Insurrection, when you ordered your forces to open fire on the demon-" I bit my tongue, stopping the word before I could finish it. 'Demonstrators' was not the word I wanted to use - terrorists, rebels, insurgents - but unfortunately, Tullius had used the word 'civilians', "... on the Bakuran civilians."
"Civilians? I don't remember civilians. Dissidents, rebels, rioters; not civilians."
Again, I held my tongue and my knee-jerk reaction - I agreed with the Colonel, but for some reason, the Captain did not. It could be that Tullius just didn't know what had happened on Bakura itself - either that the deaths at the beginning were linked to the insurrection as a whole - or there was some point he was trying to make. I worried my lip with my teeth for a moment, scouring my mind for some reason Tullius might have cared whether the Bakurans were civilians or not…
Unless it wasn't about the Bakurans specifically?
"Colonel, were the rioters already revolting when you ordered your forces to open fire, or did that begin afterward?"
"Does it matter?" Maab asked, his tone marking the question as rhetorical, "A dissenter is a dissenter, I did not have the resources to quell it normally."
Ah! Now I understood, it was clearer now than ever before that Tullius had a practical mind for these things. The Vasha situation came to mind, not making enemies of a local world while you were still trapped in the system. Maab's indifference to whether the Bakurans were rebellious or merely protesting was telling, what would happen if he were thrown into stressful situations when dealing with actual loyalists or friendly forces.
Probably rob them blind, I decided, eyes drifting back to the pair of heavy walkers.
"It does to Captain Tullius. Your overeagerness may well have cost us a great deal more than expected, had you failed in-"
"But I didn't," Maab interrupted me, spreading his arms wide as a gesture to the hangar bay at large, "As evidenced by the bounty I have secured. You and Captain Tullius appear to be worrying about something that didn't happen."
Again, I was stumped, and again I was forced to figure out what I needed to say to get the Colonel to agree to at least discuss the potential of changing his tactics. How Tullius juggled these differing personalities I would never know, but I was suddenly very glad it would not be me going forward. I struggled, until at last a memory trudged out from my mind.
"... Captain Tullius has been playing with the idea of expanding the squadron security complement into a full ground force," He had mentioned as much, but Tullius had said a lot of things over the last few weeks, "Of course, concerning its commanding officers he would prefer to keep things close to home, as it were - within the fleet. But he needs reassurances that, with this larger force, you will be able to exercise restraint."
"Restraint?" Maab repeated almost offended as he crossed his legs, but I could see the naked greed in his eyes. I did not need to look at Maab's career to know playing naval security on a Star Destroyer was where he wanted it to end. Finally, his gaze locked with mine and he seemed to notice me. Those depths had a cunning sharpness, "... I see your game, Lieutenant. Fine, if wearing the velvet glove is what he requires for me to be placed in charge, then I will. Inform the Captain I'll have new rules-of-engagement by the next report. Satisfied?"
I nodded slowly, satisfied and relieved that it was as successful a move as it was. Now I was banking on Tullius honestly wanting to expand the section, rather than throwing the idea around.
"There is also the issue of your report on our… stockpile, Colonel," I gestured vaguely around us to the sea of stolen goods, "Or lack thereof."
"This? I filed my report immediately after Bakura," Maab waved a dismissive hand, but I was not so easily dissuaded. My mistake though it may have been, not pursuing this sooner, but I would not allow Maab to run roughshod over procedure.
"I must request that the report be resubmitted, Colonel." Maab waved a hand in my direction, neither accepting my request nor denying it.
"I am certain the Captain will… Colonel, you can move your legs," I realized, staring at his now-crossed legs. Maab looked down as well, making a humming sound.
"How astute."
"Why are you in a hover chair? Where did you even get one in a planetary garrison headquarters?" Studying the chair now, I realized that it was far higher quality than expected. Fur-lined padding, velvet seats, plush and well maintained - this was the wealthy aristocrat's hoverchair.
Maab tapped at the controls on the right armrest, tilting the chair forward and allowing him to step down from it. He patted the machine, a pleased smile on his lips.
"It's comfortable, and I found it in the Bakuran Senate chambers."
My hand twitched slightly, my nerves coalescing in a growing exasperation. I most certainly did not pity Tullius having to deal with the Maabs of the galaxy.
"Was someone using it at the time?"
"Who's to say?"
"I don't get what the big deal is. The I-7 is a perfectly fine fighter - just because Incom is a bunch of rebels doesn't make that any less true."
"It's ugly."
As if a TIE pilot had any room to criticize the aesthetics of a starfighter. There was a romanticism to the classic Venator and V-Wing duo that was lost when the Imperial series began carting around TIE Fighters.
I was in a conference room, surrounded by the ranking officers of the 2nd Squadron's fighter complement. What was left of them in any case - most of the Flight Commanders and Captains were dead or out of commission - in the case of Hamne. Some were present in-person, but the majority were calling in via hologram. The rest were second or third-stringers for command of their given squadrons, and even those were reduced to a motley assortment of fighters. The Skipray Blastboats and TIE Bombers had their pilots and crews pilfered to maintain some semblance of a stable fighter wing, but that was why this meeting was being held.
The door opened again, allowing the portly form of Matread and waddle in, his presence quieting any conversation immediately.
"Stay seated," He ordered, datapad in hand as he walked around the table, "We will skip introductions and get to the matter at hand. Lieutenant Screold is here on behalf of Captain Tullius, who wishes for us to address the current fighter situation for our fleet."
I leaned forward as Matread squeezed behind me before scooting aside as he took his seat. With a wheezy sigh, he was seated with the rest of us.
"The Captain has not confirmed whether or not Black-15 will provide more craft for our reserves, so we are to assume what we have is what we'll get. With that being said, I have come to the difficult decision of approving the usage of ground-attack TIE Fighters in regular formations."
I was taken aback by the response to this declaration, which was immediate and negative. Officers scowled, muttered mutinously amongst eachother, and had some choice words for the Army and its equipment. I honestly didn't see the issue, it was a starfighter with rocket pods - what was the big deal? Matread had tried to explain it to Tullius, but neither of us had understood. Aerodynamics, wing position, differences in how the laser cannons were aimed - minute stuff. Then again, TIE Fighters were fickle beasts, who knew what effect a minor change might have on an experienced pilot?
"Even if we include… them, we still don't have enough fighters to create more than a couple of full squadrons. The Steadfast is the only ship that can still field a full squadron, plus the Intimidation if she had those reinforcements." One officer said, a Flight Commander based on her plaques - I recognized her, though I couldn't remember if she was the TIE Bomber or Skipray commander.
"That brings us to the issue in question," Matread nodded to the officer before addressing the company at large, "Tullius has ordered that the fighters be condensed into two full wings - one aboard the Conqueror, the other aboard the Intimidation. The squadrons from Steadfast, Contester, Absolution, and Loner will be moved to the Conqueror. The rest will be moved to the Intimidation."
There was not much reaction to that information - the pilots likely didn't have any more connection to their home ships as they did any other in the fleet. That was what I deduced from that lack of reaction, in any case. Either way, Matread would be calling the shots - the truer problem became apparent as one of the holograms spoke.
"Simple enough, why did this need to be an in-person meeting?"
"With all wings becoming unified, we need to establish a new chain of command. Enough of you are still alive to create some conflict." Matread grunted bluntly, and that caused some murmuring amongst the officers. Ranking officers and former subordinates, all of whom wanted their spot in the limelight - how many had been dreaming of the chance to jump to command of their squadron? It was the same cutthroat competition that took place on the bridge when Tullius or Harand or Matread turned their backs. I sighed inwardly, realizing now why I was here - to keep an eye on the political maneuvering. Theirs and Matread's-
"Where's Commander Hamne? It goes without saying that he will be commanding the Conqueror detachment." One hologram officer said, looking up and down the group.
"Commander Hamne was injured in the aftermath of Bakura. He's out of bacta now, but he lost an arm - we don't have the equipment to make him a replacement. Commander Ree is in command of Crimson Squadron."
"Then Commander Ree will take command." The officer announced with a wave of his hand, several nods joining his announcement.
What is happening?
I turned my gaze to Ree, the Wrath recruit. The tall woman appeared equally as taken aback by these events, but took them in stride as she addressed the group.
"I am temporarily in command of Crimson, until either Commander Hamne is fit for duty or a new, permanent officer is chosen. Command of a joint squadron should pass to whoever is next most senior, the delegation from the Steadfast as an example?"
"Temporary or not, if you are good enough for the Chief, you are good enough for me." The officer from before announced with a huff, again earning affirmations from his neighbors. That appeared to be the end of it, as another officer piped in.
"Flight Captain Maalek should take over the Intimidation complement, he was the second of Turret Squadron."
"Out of the question," The man I assumed to be Maalek scoffed, "Commander Gerren is the obvious choice for-"
It was as if they were each competing to not be made commander of a squadron - no, that was exactly what was going on! I glanced at Matread, only to find that the man was entirely unaffected by this bizarre display. The faith that the pilots showed Matread, a bridge officer, was staggering - how many horror stories had I heard of pilots and crew second-guessing the ranking officer in the middle of an engagement? Such blind faith in a superior was certainly unheard of!
"Is this… normal?" I ask as I lean into Matread.
"Behold the culture created by Tullius. The competent do not seek higher station, they are selected for it by virtue of their competence," Matread whispered back, the amusement in his voice betraying him.
"How do you mean?"
"Tullius hand-picked every single person in his main bridge crew - from his officers to the guards - and everyone of rank in the others. Competence above all else gains you his attention and accolades, not blindly chasing promotion."
"They seem far more enamored by you, Wyatdrew."
At that, Matread offered me a lopsided smile, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he stared at me.
"Captain Tullius," I was surprised, stopping dead in the middle of the hallway as I saw Tullius rapidly approaching me from the other end. It had been a couple of days since he had disembarked from the Conqueror, and his return was unannounced.
"Lieutenant," Tullius greeted me in turn.
He strode right up to and past me, not slowing his stride for a heartbeat. I quickly turned on my heel and raced after him, back toward the officer quarters where I had been leaving. That was evidently the right decision, as he began speaking.
"The Yevetha will begin repairs in a few hours - I have not had the chance to speak with our security officers, but they are to be under close guard while aboard the Conqueror. Can you take care of this alongside your other duties?"
Was that doubt I heard in his voice? Had I shaken his faith in me that much?! My heart beat faster, fear mixed with panic as his apparent disappointment. I nodded sharply before responding.
"Yes, Captain. I'll ensure they are kept under close scrutiny."
"Good," Was all Tullius had to say on that, as if it were expected, "Governor Nereus and I will be remaining on Black-15 for the time being, have you and Matread already figured out our fighter situation?"
More like they figured it out themselves.
"Yes, Captain," Was what I said instead, "We have two full squadrons split between the Conqueror and Intimidation, plus reserves. They have agreed on a temporary chain of command until the squadrons can be reformed."
Again, Tullius just nodded. The rest of our trek was thankfully silent, it was somewhat embarrassing to respond to Tullius between hastily drawn breaths. Our destination was his officer, untouched during his furlough. It was a barren affair, with little in terms of personal effects. Tullius moved around behind the desk, but instead of taking his seat he knelt and began fiddling with one of the drawers.
"This goes without saying, but our stay here was unplanned," Tullius said, not looking up as he worked. Stood on the other side of his desk, I couldn't see what he was doing - so I just nodded.
"Unfortunately, I have led us into yet another situation, and this is not one we can fight our way out of. Admiral Paret has decided that chaos is an opportunity - an opportunity to attack Coruscant and seize control for himself."
"I… see." That was a lie, I did not see. I fought to keep my mouth closed, lest I gape stupidly at this information - my mind was immediately cast to the trio of Super Star Destroyers. Such a force would be minuscule in the face of a concentrated Imperial response, but they were more than enough to intimidate Coruscant into whatever terms Paret had. I had little care for politics, but even I found myself boggled by the implications - if one renegade could threaten the Empire, who was to say another couldn't? Of course, the foundation of the Empire was too strong to be shaken by one event, but it set a precedent.
"Admiral Paret has also offered us a position among this fleet, as the vanguard to his crusade." Tullius vanished for a moment, ducking down before peaking his head up, lips curved upward in a smile, "He even called me 'Hero of Endor'. Catchy, no?"
There was a glint in his gaze, an anger betrayed in his narrowed eyes, or the forced nature of his smile.
"What are we going to do?" I asked, and at once the smile vanished from his face. It was replaced by a scowl.
"What can we do? Sending a ship to warn Coruscant would be too obvious. We can't fight our way out - not against these odds. The best we could do is break away once we leave the system - put as much distance between us and Black Sword Command as we can. But that would leave the Escapade and our other comrades in their tender mercies. We can't run, we can't fight…"
Tullius clicked his tongue, finally standing as he pulled from his desk… a bottle? It was a dark brown, text partially hidden in his hands, but I recognized it immediately as something alcoholic. I turned a scandalized gaze to Tullius.
"Sir!"
"What?" He asked, alarmed, before realizing the target of my scrutiny and shrugging, "Oh. I needed an excuse to come here and speak to you in a way that is not monitored. At present, I need to make Paret view me positively, how better than to offer him a drink celebrating his coming ascension?"
Tullius turned the bottle to study it before shrugging. Tullius made his way back to the door before stopping suddenly and turning to face me again.
"Have you spoken with Thawne over on the Escapade?" I was caught off-guard by the change of topic, shaking my head after a moment.
"Not yet, Captain. I was going to complete my tasks here-"
"It's no issue, Lieutenant," Tullius said, waving off my concern as he faced away from me again - a far off expression on his face, "Whenever you find time."
With a nod, he walked off - leaving me to my thoughts in his office.
What is on that ship? I wondered, That Tullius would want me to go there?
Capital Ships:
Conqueror – Imperial I-Class Star Destroyer – Captain Rivejer Tullius, Lieutenant Ashsca Screold, Commander Rius Harand, Chief Wyatdrew Matread, Commander Ciena Ree, & Colonel Barton Raab
Intimidation – Imperial I-Class Star Destroyer – Commander Milgern
Escapade (Shriwirr) - Shree-Class Battlecruiser - ?
Cruisers:
Intrepid – Victory I-Class Star Destroyer – Lieutenant ? (Dead)
Steadfast – Victory I-Class Star Destroyer - Captain Zanus
Viscount – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - ?
Contester – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - ?
Absolution – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - Lieutenant Pax
Valor – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - Commander Titus Cain
Frigates:
Spite – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - ?
Loner – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - Lieutenant Lo Bannick
? – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - ?
? – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - ?
Corvettes:
Overlord – Lancer-Class Frigate - Captain Forster
Justice – Lancer-Class Frigate - Commander Titus
? – Lancer-Class Frigate - ?
? – Lancer-Class Frigate - ?
? - DP20 Frigate - ?
? - Marauder-Class Corvette - ?
Bakura II - IR-3F-Class Light Frigate - ?
Bakura V - IR-3F-Class Light Frigate - ?