Captain Rivejer Tullius
My words were met with a pregnant silence as Weblin stared at me unflinchingly.
"You have a gift for understatement, Captain. That much is obvious." Even through the poor connection, I could hear the annoyance dripping from the man's tone. "My own servants tried to kill me - and it was only after which I learned that the entire second fleet abandoned their posts to flee into N'zoth. It would be prudent to start from the beginning, Captain."
I swallowed nervously before nodding my head, starting from my arrival in the system. A credit to Weblin, he did not offer much of a reaction to my story beyond a stern glare. I described my immediate press-ganging into Paret's planned coup, my time spent aboard Black-15, and the rebellion. I skimmed my escape beyond the part I played in the discovery of Paret and recovery of his code cylinders. Where issues arose was in the fate of the Intimidator, and the extinction-level event on N'zoth.
"The loss of the Intimidator is not just poor form, it is devastating for any operations in the system. Reconquest efforts or otherwise. I can not even begin to comprehend the thought process that led you to that decision, nor do I wish to. There will be a reckoning for this, Captain - mark my words," Paret said, remarkably calm despite his words, "To say nothing of the lost Imperial assets on the world."
I swallowed back the knee-jerk response that it was not my fault or my decision to crash the Intimidator. Unfortunately, when you are in command, every failure is always your fault. I could not throw the blame onto my mind in good conscience, nor would such a cowardly action reflect well on me. I could only stand at attention and respond in a placid, apologetic manner.
"It was deemed the best course of action at the time, sir."
"It seems we disagree on what the best course of action is, Captain," Weblin let out a sigh, "Though I suppose I must applaud your efforts in destroying two of the rebelling Star Destroyers - you are sure they were under Yevethan control?"
"They fired upon me and mine, I returned the favor," Was all I could say on the matter. The thought had occurred to me that we were being pitted against other Imperials, but there was no way to be certain. I opted to ignore it, for my own mental wellbeing.
"The loss of Commodore Dobbatek was, if not inevitable, woefully mistimed. His competence was not in question, even if his loyalties now are."
"I… Take the blame for that one," This part I was kicking myself over. I cared little that Dobbatek was part of Paret's betrayal, I had hoped to be long gone from N'zoth before it came to fruition. My error was in allowing that CompForce stooge to follow me around like a lost hound, and in underestimating his fanaticism, "I mistakenly brought a CompForce operative with me."
"CompForce?" Weblin looked mildly alarmed as he studied me. Whatever conclusion he reached in the brief silence that followed went unspoken as the man shook his head and continued, "Be that as it may, your new objective is far simpler. N'zoth is lost, and I will not expend what resources we have left trying to retake it. You are to retreat from the system immediately, Captain. Sabotage Black-3 - preferably without completely destroying it or the moon it is over - and move to Praxlis immediately."
"Yes, Governor Weblin," I said with a bow of my head, "When can we expect Imperial reinforcements?"
Weblin made a face, pausing for a few moments - long enough that I feared we had lost connection.
"Do not expect reinforcements or relief at this time. The situation on Imperial ceen-teeeerr…" But whatever the situation on Imperial Center happened to be was lost as Weblin's image shuddered and then vanished - the connection lost. The buoys were likely so much stardust now. I frowned, turning away from the project and opening the door. My walk back to the command deck was silent as I poured over what I had learned. Weblin giving away nothing was not unexpected, even if his survival was. I had erroneously believed he was somewhere in the system, though his orders told me otherwise. It made sense - why would he holocall in on a meeting he could attend? Still, his comments about Imperial Center were concerning. I expected instability, but if Weblin could talk to the outside then why wasn't the home fleet bringing the wrath of the Core down on N'zoth? Two super star destroyers or no, the First Fleet of Azure Hammer would decimate what was left here.
Something was happening in the Core, and suddenly I was much less eager to get there. Still, I had my orders - orders that I now feared would be the death of me. My mind harkened back to Dobbatek's words before his death, about what Weblin would do to contain this mess. It was becoming a recurring theme, these treasonous and criminal commanding officers. Things were so much simpler under Harrsk.
The command center was as I had left it. Bragg and Eistern approached me at the entrance, both appearing apprehensive. Cardon hovered nearby, which certainly didn't help their disposition.
"Orders from Weblin, we are leaving the system," I explained in lieu of a greeting, pulling my service cap off and running a hand through my sweaty hair.
"We're abandoning N'zoth?" Bragg repeated, his tone nervously optimistic before quickly adding, "What about the rest of the fleet?"
"If they had any sense, they would be here," Eistern said, "What is the plan to retreat? The Yevethans have the east and south under lockdown."
"Working on that. He wants us to go to Praxlis, I can't say I'm familiar."
"Praxlis is the sector capital - as much as the world can be called that, in any case. It was the base for-" Bragg started, but was interrupted by Eistern. The man glared at my fellow Captain.
"Praxlis still stands?" Eistern asked, his tone betraying his surprise.
"It's where I assume Weblin is holed up. Worse for wear, but alive."
"Small mercies," Bragg muttered, turning his glare from Eistern for interrupting his history lesson - before he appeared stricken, "You… You do not think Dobbatek was right? About the risk of execution?"
"Even if he is, do we have a choice?" Eistern asked, his voice a growl, "We don't have any way to break that blockade onto the Metellos Spur. Not unless we are feeling especially sacrificial."
"What about the jump point to Praxlis?" I asked, turning to repeat the question as an order to whoever the sensor officer was when Eistern stopped me with a raised hand.
"Lightly guarded, but on the wrong side of the system. And Praxlis is the only system in that direction - the moment we head that way, the Yevethans will know what we are doing."
"We'll need to microjump, as close as we can get." I agreed with a nod.
"I will have my people begin calculations," Bragg said, appearing relieved that there was a plan, "We will have to circumvent the planet entirely. Five, maybe six microjumps."
"Then we have the start of a plan," I said, Bragg's relief infectious as I felt buoyed by his words. Then, my gaze found Cardon, and my mood soured. There was a problem I needed to deal with, and I very much did not want to deal with it. Unfortunately, a trend was beginning to take shape among specifically my ground forces, one of independence and taking liberties I did not grant them.
"If there is nothing else, gentlemen? I have some issues on my ships to take care of." When neither of them spoke up, I continued, "Very good. Speak with your people, and begin abandoning Black-3. Weblin wants it intact, or relatively speaking, so-"
"This isn't my first scuttling, Captain," Bragg said, "We can handle it."
We dispersed with that, Eistern leaving to tend to the tattered remains of his ship and contact the new commander of Dobbatek's flag. I left, Cardon trailing behind me as we were joined by my Stormtroopers. A few paces down the hall, I addressed the CompForce operative.
"There is a matter I need to speak with Colonel Maab about. Go to the Conqueror and send him over. I'll be waiting in… whatever passes for an observation deck on this station," I muttered that last part, looking around at the featureless walls with narrowed eyes. Cardon paused, hesitating for a moment as if to ask "why don't you use your communicator". After a heartbeat, there was a snap of leather heels and Cardon walked off, leaving me and my guards. Once he turned the corner, I let my shoulders sag - it was easier to show exhaustion around Stormtroopers, they never talked.
Without a word, I led the way to the observation deck - hoping for a moment of relaxation before I had to deal with Maab.
The door to the observation deck opened, making me tighten my hand reflexively. Nerves, I realized - I never dealt with personal confrontation very well. Still, I forced myself to unclench that fist and stay facing the window - looking out over N'zoth's moon to the burning world itself. It was calming, in a macabre sort of fashion - the damage did not look so bad from up here.
"You asked to see me, Captain?" Maab asked, his voice gruff as usual. I finally turned to face him, offering a strained smile and a nod.
"I did, thank you for your punctuality, Colonel. Please, take a seat, we have some matters to discuss."
Maab appeared as he always did, a walking conservator of a man. His looked groomed to perfection, as if what had happened on N'zoth had no more effect on him than the quality of that morning's recaf. To be completely honest, I wasn't sure how I felt about it. A tragedy yes, but one I struggled to place a decisive emotion on. I pondered for a moment if there was something wrong with me? I had lived a privileged life so far, no wars and certainly no moral quandaries. At least, none that weren't purely intellectual or political in nature. This, however? This was real, people I knew made these decisions, and I placed them in the positions to make them.
My arm tingled, a fresh dose of stimulants pulsing through my body like fire - making my heart race for a moment before it calmed. My attention snapped to, and I was suddenly much more aware. I would have my crash, eventually. Not just physical, but mental and emotional. These last few weeks had been a toll upon my mental state, something I was using copious combat stimulants to compensate for.
How many billions dead? I wanted to chase those thoughts away, I wanted to ignore them and bury them down and keep marching. That was easy, that was safe, that was simple. I would never need to look at myself in a mirror and wonder if I had done the right things because I was just following orders.
I did not hate the Yevethans, that insinuated a level of personal connection I did not have with them. It was easy to cry hatred when the wounds were fresh, but in the intereding hours I could approach the situation logically. I disliked them, the twinge in my arm reminded me of that, as did the death of my men - but hate was a strong word. It was easy to dislike them when all I had seen were their soldiers, but there weren't only soldiers on N'zoth. It was with these thoughts bouncing through my head that I asked the question.
"What happened?" A part of me wished there was silence after that question, that Maab needed a moment to ponder his answer. To question what actions led to crashing the Intimidator into a planet and consigning a sentient species to probable extinction.
Maab did not.
"With the Intimidator? Master stroke, that. Wish I thought of it - wish I thought it was possible." Maab spoke so conversationally that I was caught flat-footed, unsure how to respond. Maab continued unbidden, sighing as he sank into the nearby couch - not seeing my stricken expression as I faced forward, "I admit, I am impressed with their moxie."
"Their… moxie, Colonel?"
"They have a go-get-them attitude. It was those kinds of heroics that made war heroes back in the War."
Heroics? War heroes?
"I can hardly call this the work of heroes, Colonel," I snapped, unable to catch myself in time and interrupting Maab. The man fell silent, his reflection staring at my back with a shocked expression.
"... Captain?"
"How many beings are dead, Colonel? How many lived on N'zoth? Hundreds of millions? Billions? How many will survive by the end of this."
Silence. After a few moments, Maab stood from the couch and walked closer. He was next to me now, looking through the viewscreen. Given we were standing side-by-side, I could not see his face and so was unable to gauge his emotions. Had I said too much? My blood chilled as I remembered Cardon, was he nearby? I was shocked out of my stupor when Maab spoke.
"Death's death, Captain," There was something… hollow to Maab's tone now, off, "Let me tell you what I learned in the war. One death, a hundred, a thousand, a million, a billion - death is death. We kill a billion, they kill a billion. If you look at it like a tragedy, you won't get anything done. If you agonize over it, you will get killed. You are doing well enough Tullius, don't let this…"
Maab waved a hand toward the viewscreen, toward N'zoth.
"This… Distract you. They knew the risks, and they paid the price. That's all there is to say on the matter."
I turned to look at Maab, and he looked at me. I was taller than the man, yet at that moment I felt very small before him. He was smiling that same easy smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were hollow, cold - inhuman. Not casual or flippant as his tone said, as if something was missing. I realized now that I knew nothing about Colonel Maab - where he had been or what he had done. In my mind, he was Maab - the man with sticky fingers and a penchant for thievery only recently exposed.
I did not want to be standing near this man, not right now. The air felt oppressive, crushing - I needed to be anywhere else.
"... Be that as it may, Colonel," I spoke slowly, mindful of my dry lips, "There is still the matter of the liberties taken by the… by the men. Governor Weblin is concerned about the loss of Imperial assets. We can not let this happen again. Some of the fault lies with me, I needed to set stricter guidelines, stricter objectives. I understand they are Navytroopers for the most part, but given the increasing number of operations they are undertaking we need a stricter chain of command."
"No man can control everything, Captain," Maab said, "Have to delegate some day."
Evidently not. Leaving Maab and the strike teams to their own devices led to this situation - a destroyed star dreadnought, a distinctly unhappy Grand Moff, and now death at an apocalyptic scale. My faith in the abilities of these men was not shaken, it was my trust in their ability to make the right call. I had no illusion that the CompForce stooge was not, in some way, involved with the decision, but that was not unexpected. CompForce were wild hounds, barely controlled by their leashes. I expected better of the Stormtroopers and Navy Commandos, a foolish notion I realized now. Removing the Agent was a priority, if only because he was clearly a bad influence on my men.
"Still, keep them in line, Colonel."
"Very well, I will whip them in shape," Maab grunted before letting out a chuckle, suddenly elbowing my side, "But Weblin, eh? Man's just upset he lost his dreadnought. O'course, if we were able, we might have taken it for ourselves. How about it, Captain Rivejer Tullius of the Intimidator does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it."
And like that, the moment was gone. Maab was back to jovial and pleasant - as if nothing had happened. I offered a shaky smile, unsure of how to respond.
The viewport before me gave a view of N'zoth's moon - an asteroid battered rock nearly uninhabitable due to its lacking atmosphere. Somewhere down there, a hypervelocity cannon stabbed into the sky like a spear - its barrel tracking the nearly imperceptible Armadia. N'zoth was hidden from view now, and perhaps it was cowardly to think it, but it felt like the weight was lifted from my shoulders somewhat.
The door to the chamber opened and admitted a newcomer, and this time I turned to face them. Unlike Maab, I did not like having my back to a man as volatile as this. Cardon turned heavily lidded eyes from me to the pair of Stormtroopers by the door, before then offering me a salute. The troopers were more of Talik's men - as shaken as my faith was in the man, they were reliable as soldiers if nothing else. One twitched slightly at the move, but remained still otherwise.
"Reporting as requested, Captain," Cardon announced, lowering his hand at my signal.
"Thank you, Agent," I said, folding my good hand behind my back again and digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand. I fought down the pounding in my chest as I considered the man. Cardon was still adorned in his armor, I'd yet to see the man take it off. As the sole survivor of his team, I had no idea where he spent his time on the station, but I doubted it was somewhere restful or relaxing. I let the silence stretch as I calmed my nerves and tried to find my words, trying to present the stern visage of an officer. I had little doubt I was failing miserably.
"I intend to abandon the system," I announce immediately, gauging his reaction. My knees tensed as I made ready to throw myself aside - while I was confident that the Stormtroopers could lower their blasters faster than Cardon could draw his from the holster, I did not want to stake my life on it. There was a long silence that followed my words as Cardon stared at me, unblinking, unemotive.
This staring contest felt as if it lasted for ages, until Cardon finally blinked.
"Yes, Captain?" He asked, his tone questioning as he cocked his head ever so slightly. That gave me pause, I was not sure how to react to that response. I expected anger, accusation, and in the worst case a quick draw of the blaster from his hip. Instead, he remained relaxed - or, as relaxed as a CompForce officer could appear in any case. The response he gave… It was as if he were waiting for me to elaborate.
"Holding N'zoth has become an impossibility. With the present forces at hand, it is inevitable that this station will be overwhelmed once the Yevethans manage to bring the entire fleet under their total control."
Again, Cardon had no immediate response to this, so I pressed on.
"I intend to rally the fleet, scuttle this station, and break for Galantos," My trepidation rises again as I study the man, "Will this be an issue?"
"You intend to allow this rebellion to go unanswered?" The man asked, his voice toneless. My heart was pounding in my chest, he was impossible to read at that moment yet I could feel the menace in his voice. My fingers twitched, the Stormtroopers shifted, but I forced myself to remain still.
"No," I snap far too quickly, panic gripping me as I force my voice to return to some facsimile of calm, "No. We will need to rally with Imperial forces and prepare for whatever the Yevethans have planned, that is our first and foremost duty."
I pause again, gauging his lack of reaction and wondering if I had said too little. I slap together a finishing few words.
"If my superiors allow it, I will be on the first fleet back to finish what was started here."
Which was to say, I would be trying to put as much distance between me and this damned system as physically possible. COMPNOR, Yevethans, warlordism - enough was enough. Finally, this earned a reaction from Cardon - a sharp nod and a stern expression.
"Naturally. I never doubted your intentions for a second, Captain."
Wonderful.
I turned away from the man, moving my good arm back to my front to hide the nervous shaking. I closed my eyes and fought the urge to sigh, before looking out over the moon once more. Silence reigned here for a moment or two, before Cardon spoke again - spooking me as I assumed he had left immediately.
"Captain, permission to ask a question?" The man asked, sounding almost uncertain - an alien concept given who he was.
"Granted, Agent."
"What is your plan to evacuate the system?"
I set my lips into a thin line, that was the question of the hour. A bright lance appeared in the distance as the planetary cannon fired. Somewhere out there, the Armadia was forced to maneuver out of the way of another volley - refusing to get too far away from us, but also refusing to get closer.
An idea began to hatch in my mind. The Intimidator had been inoperable before the strike team had boarded it, but the Armadia…
There might be a chance to break out toward the Core afterall.
Agent Rik Cardon
Tullius dismissed me soon after, his expression thunderous after my question. I left quickly, fearing I had offended the man. It had been close before, when I worded my question about his intentions. The brief flash of anger in his voice, how he snapped back a response - he was offended I had even insinuated he would want to leave the Yevethans to their devices. I was kicking myself over that one, I had dealt with the more radical officers before - and Tullius ranked up there with the most mad. The Captain rarely let anything out from that deadpan mask of his, but I knew his type well - I could almost see the anger simmering under the surface.
It was a shame he wasn't going to survive this. Dobbatek was right about one thing, there would be a reckoning after all this was said and done. If not from the Grand Moff, then certainly from the higher powers back on Imperial Center. With any other officer, I would have expected the blame for some of these occurrences to be passed down the ranks. The destruction of the Intimidator, as an example, would be an extremely unpopular decision - no matter how necessary it was. Such a tactic wouldn't work, but it was the principle of the matter. But Tullius… Maybe I was being hopelessly naive, but he felt different. How many naval officers did I know who would pick up a flamethrower with a busted arm and charge a blaster cannon? Hell, how many did I know would take their damaged ship and counter-charge a fully operational Star Destroyer?
A shame. If Tullius were part of COMPNOR… Well, he probably wouldn't have been in this situation to start with, but that radical aggression simmering under the surface would have been cultivated rather than suppressed by the forced stoicism of the Imperial Navy. At that thought, I paused.
As a member of a fleet, Tullius had some protection, but if he had the attention of a major pillar of the Imperial government, it would be far more difficult to snuff him out. After all, successfully breaking the Yevethan blockade and rallying with Imperial forces would do wonders for the Imperial propaganda machine. If it just so happened that he had a member of CompForce with him, then COMPNOR could even spin this as them scoping out a potential exemplar of Imperial training.
I smirked, leaning back on the bench - that CompForce operative, whoever he was, might just be transferred out of backwater duty and given a new unit to command. One that may even be attached to a Captain with little qualms about letting his specialists do what needed to be done.
I pushed the end of my straw through the plastic cover of my juice, sipping with a hum as I looked down at my report. A few nervous officers glanced toward me - I fought down a chuckle. They were all a nervous lot.
I opened a file on my datapad, one titled: "TULLIUS, RIVEJER". I began to type.