Commodore Rivejer Tullius
After the chaos of the last few months, the calmness of my office was a disquieting experience. The mere act of sitting here and doing nothing felt wasteful - as if there was something I was supposed to be doing. Technically, there was - or rather, there was something I could be doing. I could be captaining my ship, or what was left of the old girl. Taking over the duties I typically would have been overseeing from Matread and Harand. However, I was now faced with a new reality: one of delegation.
I did not captain a ship anymore. While my time as the head of the 2nd Flank Squadron was often quiet prior to Endor, I was expected to both command my own ship and guide the rest of my squadron. Now, I was fully in the position of the latter task. I found myself oddly melancholic at the thought as I stared down at my old rank plaque. A small thing it seemed now, but I had proudly worn it on my chest for years. Now, it would be passed on to a successor - figuratively, of course. Whoever I raised to be Captain of the Conqueror would get a plaque of their own; this one would be mine to keep.
I turned the small strip over in my hands, feeling the familiar grooves. It was calming, in a way. This small action served to soothe my racing mind.
At present, I was waiting: a meeting was scheduled in half an hour with a representative from KDY. Over the holocommunicator, of course - the people I needed to meet with would never deign to do so in person. However, my timely arrival had made the lower management stooges Harand was grappling with panic and called their superiors. It was amazing what two extra squares on my chest did to open doors.
The meeting was on the fate of my old ship. With the Intimidation stolen away before I had even arrived, the Conqueror was the only Star Destroyer I had left - discounting the matched pair of Victory-I Star Destroyers, of course. Unfortunately, even from the preliminary reports it was increasingly obvious that repairing the Conqueror was out of the question. At least, not on my current budget.
Because the fleet was broke. Flat broke.
Arrowhead Command's crew backpay was seized the moment Harrsk stepped foot in the Deep Core and every other coffer I might have been able to rely on was similarly drained. Since I was never part of Harrsk's inner circle I was also not privy to any secret accounts he held. My thoughts on my former superior were mixed at the moment, so I could not decide if I was relieved by my lack of closeness or else bitter. Following had always been easier, but now I was left with the unpleasant thought that I alone made decisions for the fleet. It was not much of a departure from the last two months in all fairness, but my 'promotion' made it official. Expectations were far different for Commodore Rivejer Tullius.
With a sigh, I set the plaque back down on my desk and leaned back. Matread was right out, the man's skills lay in fighter command - he would be wasted commanding the Conqueror. That left Screold or Harand. Keeping Screold a lower rank despite her authority felt foolish in hindsight, she had proven her loyalty to me time and again. However, that youth would serve to harm her, I felt. Perhaps control of the secondary bridge, beyond my direct oversight, might allow her to build the connections needed? I had hamstrung her career out of the selfish desire to secure my own position, but in the Fleet there was no one above me. I did not need to jockey for position now.
Harand, despite our years working together, was also unlikely. I knew the man; he was quick to panic and ill-suited commanding a ship of this size alone. However, if Screold was taking his old position, then he would need a place…
I filed that line of thinking away for now. My communicator had begun to blink, my early warning of an incoming call. I pushed the plaque aside and pulled over my datapad before answering.
"Commodore Tullius." I declared, waiting for half a heartbeat as the connection was secured.
"Commodore? This is Overseer Blix Nerra, KDY Procurement. I have some members of my office present, they will be taking notes. Is now a good time to start our meeting?"
"Better now than later." I grunted, tapping at the screen of the datapad with a stylus.
"Wonderful." The man on the other end said with false cheer before immediately launching into his sales pitch. "We are discussing your Imperial I-Class Star Destroyer, correct? The… Conqueror?"
"Yes." Obviously.
"Wonderful. And let me just say, an upgrade is for the best! KDY has been recommending that the Imperial Navy retire these old ISD-Is for years now. We are happy to hear you are being proactive about this."
I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. I would prefer to keep the Conqueror, though I knew it was sentiment alone that kept me connected to the ship. She was a workhorse, but an old one. Our successes against more modern ships - namely the Imperial 2-Class Star Destroyers - was built on the incompetence of our foes and the skill of my crew.
"I believe the status of my next flagship will be discussed with your compatriots in Acquisitions." I was not eager to have this official sell me on some overly expensive warship, especially because my coffers remained worryingly light. The surplus yard would be my destination as I had already seen the wait list for a new ISD of any type: a backlog of seventeen months. An older ISD would suffice for now, at least until I reached Ciutric and could take stock of their situation.
"Of course, sir. We at Kuat Drive Yards just want to make sure you are aware of your options through each step of this journey." The official - Nerra - was not caught flat-footed by my words and effortlessly moved into the main topic. "Now, we were to discuss the fate of your former flagship. Your subordinate. Harald-"
"Harand."
"Yes, Harand, wished to sell it to the local fleet. Unfortunately, given its state, we simply cannot allow that. Kuat Drive Yards prides itself in fielding only well-maintained vessels. The present state of the Conqueror does not allow us to accept it. Our repair yards are also at full capacity, and considering the extent of the damage…"
Nerra let his words trail off, as if to emphasise them. I frowned, before remembering that he could not see me and letting out a low hum. Silence reigned for a long minute as neither of us said anything; it took me an embarrassingly long time to realise that he was waiting for me to speak.
"I see." I said slowly, before quickly adding: "I assume, then, you are here to present an alternative? Or else this meeting could have been summarised in a message."
"We would never disrespect a ranking member of the Navy in such a fashion, Commodore." Nerra sounded almost offended at the notion, or else afraid of offending me. That was a new feeling. "While your ship will not find a new place among the local fleets, it can still be used to help repair other damaged Star Destroyers."
And there it is. An ignominious death for a vessel that had done so much to keep her crew alive. I was more offended by that notion than anything else said in this short conversation. Yet, practicality again made me stay my tongue. Already, getting pay for my men was a challenge from the credit-chit pinching Admiralty, but gathering the necessary funds to repair the Conqueror? It was a feasible operation, but such a repair was expensive. Immensely so, before even considering the issue of time.
I would need to betray my old flagship, consigning her to a fate as scrap parts while I left with another ship. Such thinking left me morose, but I kept it far from my voice as I responded.
"How much is my ship worth, then?" I asked. I could almost hear the greed in the official's voice as we began to discuss.
The next two hours were filled with heated debate - or as heated as such a discussion could be in any case. I felt I made a good showing of myself and sold the corpse of my Conqueror to Kuat. As the call ended, I deflated in my seat - taking in the office for one of the last times. It was small, bare and rarely ever used - but I felt its loss all the same.
I did not give myself long to grieve and soon pushed off my chair and moved out of the office - scheduling time for someone to begin clearing out and documenting my affects. Beyond the door, my four-man team of Deathtrooper bodyguards waited. It had been a struggle to keep them from invading my office as well. They fell in step behind me without a word as I made way for the bridge.
The bridge was busy, as usual. At least temporarily, Harand had taken over the business of commanding the fleet while I dealt with KDY. Screold, as always, was at the front of the bridge - barking orders and keeping what was left of the Conqueror intact. Both had been made aware of my intentions to sell the old ship, though only Screold seemed upset by that course of action. Harand took it in stride as always; little seemed to put the man off kilter. He also seemed to sense my own black mood, as he took a more proactive role in keeping the fleet ordered and drilled - good man.
I quickly dismissed the saluting officers as I entered, approaching Harand.
"It's done." I said without preamble, passing off the datapad I carried to the nearest officer. "For better or for worse."
Harand nodded slowly, but offered no words of sympathy - or any words at all. Instead, he waited for my next words. I appreciated the sentiment as I brushed past him and moved to the holotable that dominated the rear bridge. Many hours were spent stooped over it. Despite being a standard model, I had felt connected to it.
Damn my sentimental heart, but this ship had been mine - if not literally, then figuratively. Mine. And I was selling her for parts.
"How goes our progress?" I asked, speaking to Harand so as to fill the unwanted silence. He answered immediately.
"Colonel Maab finished moving the rest of his equipment yesterday. The remaining shuttles have been spread amongst the fleet. Everything is accounted for, Commodore."
"Good. I'll leave you to it." I dismissed the man, letting him return to his work. Raising a hand, I passed it through the glimmering hologram of the Conqueror, barely fighting back a sigh. I was not left to ponder for long as a new voice interrupted me.
"Tullius." The gruff, perpetually annoyed voice of Wilek Nereus drew me back to the present. I turned to face him, finding the former Governor as perfectly dressed as always. A man of taste, or so I believed. He did not allow his uniform or grooming standards to fall, despite all but living on the bridge now. The image was ruined somewhat when I remembered his drunken stupor on Black-15, but as he never spoke of that day I decided I wouldn't either. Really, the entire affair was quite terrifying.
"Governor." I greeted him reflexively, but he made no move to correct my words. He lifted a datapad, one I recognised after a moment as the same I had passed off to one of my staff. How he ended up with it was anyone's guess, but I was not given long to wonder as he quickly spoke.
"I have taken the liberty of reviewing your transaction with KDY. Tell me, did you receive formal commerce training as part of your officer schooling?"
"No." I had never been in a position to need it. Oh, it had been offered, of course - both at the Academy and during my time with Arrowhead - the original one - but it had always seemed pointless. Why would Rivejer Tullius be in the position to make such important, complicated decisions such as fleet budgeting?
Perish the thought. The words flashed through my mind bitterly, but I kept them far from my tongue. Despite my lack of formal training, I still felt I made a good accounting of myself.
"Hmm. It shows."
"I see."
Then again, perhaps not.
I aborted the move to bring my hand up and nervously brush my side burns, though it did not appear lost on Nereus. His sharp gaze moved from my hand to my face, then back to the datapad. I could almost see the gears turning, then he spoke once more - his voice level.
"Interrupt me if you already knew this, Tullius, but did you know that most fleet commanders have an economic officer to handle these kinds of affairs?"
My latest shuttle pilots brought my party from Gortis to the edge of the Kuat system - the gas giant Rasapan. Or, rather, its largest moon. The creatively named Rasapan-7 had in orbit the large surplus yard where Kuati products went to die. Old models, battered warships - anything Kuat didn't want and couldn't pawn off on the Navy. It was the mid-tier system fleet paradise and on this day it was where I hoped to source my next flagship.
With me travelled the newly-gazetted Captain Wilek Nereus, though his rank was largely ceremonial and part of the specialised line. While I hadn't procured the official rank plaque or authorisations yet, for the time being he was here to advise me on matters of finance.
Already, buyers were scoped out for our Caravium stores - courtesy of Screold's efforts at Panatha. Paired with the credits made from scrapping the Conqueror and what remained of my former Squadron's funds, we had a decent amount of money to throw around. I wasn't going to be leaving Kuat in a Praetor, but a lightly used Star Destroyer would not go amiss.
My transport drifted into the shuttle bay of the Kuat Systems Surplus headquarters, setting down in the spacious hangar. I was greeted at the boarding ramp by a rotund man with a long, thin moustache. He was boisterous, nearly crushing my hand in his exuberance before leading the way deeper into the station.
"We have ships as far back as the Reformation! Museum pieces, of course, and expensive to maintain. We hold them for the exhibits at Coruscant, you see." The large man was giving the sales pitch for his surplus ships.
"Imperial Center." I corrected him lightly. "And I am looking for something a bit more modern."
We were passing by a large window now, looking out over some of the 'product'. Large Dreadnaught-Class Heavy Cruisers sat in a neat line, each one still bearing the rondel of the Corulag Defense Fleet even if their colors had been painted over years before. I was experienced enough with the ship class to know these ones were old - not of the updated variant so pervasive across the Empire. I scarcely had the crew to service more than a few of those old warships.
It was a scene of galactic history, one I would have enjoyed perusing were I not here for business. Vindicator-Class Heavy Cruisers sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Gladiator-Class Star Destroyers. If there was a ship produced by KDY in the last thousand years then it had some presence here, with one key exception: Modern Star Destroyers were notably absent. Late war Imperator-Class Star Destroyers hastily renamed and repainted after the Declaration of the New Order, old Tector-Class Star Destroyers retired when their lack of flexibility made them redundant in a Post-War galaxy - all of them were gone.
"The Empire has been buying Star Destroyers faster than we can make them." The large man sounded genuinely apologetic about that fact. "Kuat Drive Yards cannibalised our stock to try and meet quota."
"Unfortunately, I need a new flag ship." I muttered, looking at the form of a bright red Victory II-Class Star Destroyer - its conning tower separated from the rest of the ship and attached to a series of cranes.
My guide stopped as well, humming to himself as we both watched the decapitated ship be slowly put back together. Nereus stood to my left, eyes glued to his datapad.
Finally, the man spoke.
"Well… There is a ship that could work." His tone gave me little hope for the mystery ship's quality.
We were led to the other side of the station, where many of the even older ships were housed. Museum pieces, legacy ships - in other words, junk. We passed a final window and I was able to see the vessel in question.
I had seen its ilk at the edges of the Kuat System, meant to act as a first line of defence for the system in the event of an invasion. At a cursory glance, I estimated it to be on the nearer side of 2,500 meters - give or take a hundred. Its sheer bulk alone put it well above an Imperial-Class Star Destroyer or even the Allegiance-Class Heavy Star Destroyer. Its thickly armored hull had once filled the minds of warship enthusiasts for centuries, standing as the quintessential battlecruiser.
It was the Procurator.
The famously undergunned, slow and underpowered Procurator-Class Battlecruiser.
"The Glorious." The official announced, gesturing with one hand toward the massive, ancient warship. "She hasn't seen a day of battle, but this ship has been through more drills than entire battlegroups!"
I had to fight back a low groan, eyes scouring the oversized hunk of armor. The Procurator was infamous in modern circles, a ship that was horrifically held back by the restrictions of the Ruusan Reformations. Calling it 'underarmed' was not giving its armaments justice, it was horrifically underarmed. Rows of light, restricted turbolaser batteries. Middling ion cannons - or what few there were in any case. Perhaps the one benefit the old ship had was the variety of weapons it had, despite being outdated. Laser cannons and torpedo tubes joined its typical armament.
And the engines. Stars of Naboo, there were modern Super Star Destroyers that were more maneuverable than a Procurator! To say nothing of its hyperdrive.
"How much would it cost?" Nereus asked. The official quoted the price and I had to fight back another long groan.
The arena shifted and from the moment price became the discussion Nereus was in control. Spirited debate and argument flowed between the former Governor and his corporate adversary; I was left trailing behind them. From my perspective, Nereus fought valiantly against the price demanded from Kuat, but even then it was an expensive prospect. The official knew I - and by extension the rest of the Empire - was so desperate he could charge almost anything and we would be forced to pay. So, Nereus changed track.
While I might have been more knowledgeable about the state of the Procurator relative to modern warships, Nereus was no idiot. If he could not get them to lower the price substantially, then he would push them into modernising it. I had to appreciate his canny nature, Nereus kept that particular trick in his pocket until the engineers were present. The idea of doing unspeakable things against the old Battlecruiser lit a fire in the eyes of those engineers, who it seemed were never allowed to really cut loose. It was the official's turn to be nervous, especially once a price was agreed upon and the engineering team began theorising what they could add to the Procurator to modernise it.
"The weapons are the most pressing issue." Argued the engineer Sellex, jabbing a long finger at the hologram of the Glorious that dominated the table. Red light gleamed where the current weapon hard points were located, clusters of light and medium turbolaser batteries on the ship's wings. They were joined by the scarce few ion cannons - all of which were restricted and outdated. Modifications could be made to the present weapons, but even if they were all brought to modern standards the Glorious would still be well below the standards of modern warships.
"The weapons won't matter much if the ship can't reach combat." Another engineer, Lumine, countered. She was right as well: the massive engines strapped to the battlecruiser's aft were woefully underpowered. The ship was never meant to wander far from the Core, or Kuat - why would it need powerful engines? "And the hyperdrive. We'll need to strip the whole thing and replace it."
"Far be it from me to interrupt." I stepped in, leaning over the table. "But perhaps we could focus on the weapons first? I wish to address its viability in combat before all else, if that isn't an issue?"
"Our first concern should be the ion cannons." Sellex sounded smug that I was taking his side, gesturing to the sparse ion-based weapons carried by the battlecruiser. "While its current turbolaser loadout could deal with lighter ships easily enough, these aren't the halcyon days of the Stark Hyperspace Wars. Shielding is king nowadays and these cannons won't cut it. This should be a simple enough fix - maybe some NK-7s bolted onto the hull here, here and there, in clusters."
Sellex pointed out groups on the wings, balancing out the weapons along the hull.
"And turbolasers?" I asked, knowing full well the current armament would be hard pressed to deal with anything larger than a Cruiser.
"Not as easy." A bitter-sounding Lumine muttered, though she justified her answer shortly after. "Big capital-grade turbolasers need a lot of room and power. We would need to cut away sections of the armour to make room - that takes time and money, especially if you want to add enough to make the investment worthwhile."
Seeing as I was already going to spend a horrific amount of credits, that was expected. However, before I could agree with such an idea, Sellex entered the conversation once more.
"Not necessarily. The current weapons are good enough for most ships, why not focus on quality over quantity for the heavier weapons?"
"What, do you want to strap some octuple barbette turbolasers to the hull?" Lumine snapped at her compatriot, but Sellex appeared too manic at the moment to care. His hands flew over his keyboard now, entering specifications. Large hardpoints appeared across the ridge along the top of the Glorious. One was sat almost directly in front of the bridge, right before the decline from the 'conning tower' to the hull of the ship. Unlike future KDY ships, the Procurator lacked a tall, defined bridge. The second point was at the foot of the decline and the last sat just before the edge of the bow, behind the communication relay antennas. I refrained from mentioning that fact as Sellex just removed it from the model.
"Are those HX.6s?" Asked Lumine, her voice incredulous. Sellex nodded his head, looking more than a little pleased with himself.
"Long range, anti-capital weapons." He stated. I wasn't familiar with the name, but they looked heavy. An image was displayed for ease of viewing - and it was certainly a strange looking weapon. The six large barrels were arranged in a hexagonal shape, giving the turbolaser the appearance of a cylinder rather than the typical line of barrels common on other ship-based turbolasers. It was powerful, if the readout attached to the image was any indicator, which made my ignorance of the weapon all the more surprising.
Nereus stared at the image for a time before recognition flashed in his eyes.
"Those are planetary defense turbolasers." He said with an incredulous tone. "Surface emplacements, meant to fire into orbit."
Now it made sense, such a weapon was unlikely to be put on a ship.
"We call them Superheavy Turbolasers when they are mounted on a ship." Sellex said, his voice still painfully smug. Lumine, despite being his opponent for most of this discussion, seemed to be considering the idea.
"Can the Glorious's reactor handle a weapon that size?" I asked, still mindful of the ship's age.
"Don't let the old girl fool you." Sellex said, waving a hand dismissively. "A Procurator's main reactor is substantially more powerful than what its weapons might tell you. Efficiency is the key issue, but if we are already opening her up to install the guns, some modifications are in order."
"And the communications array?" Lumine asked, gesturing to where the array used to sit. Sellex gestured at the ship's core.
"We move it in. Cut down the crew compartments - there's a lot of stuff we could automate now, really lower the crew complement."
Lumine nodded slowly and it seemed the engineers had finally found some level of peace. The discussion that followed was well above my head, so I let them do their work. There was a certain degree of amusement in my heart as I watched the agent's face sink further and further, though.
By the end of the discussion, the slipshod planning meeting had delivered a functional ship. Even with engine upgrades, the Procurator was a ponderous vessel at best. A new hyperdrive would still be rated lower than most of my ships. Its weapons were lower than a modern ship its size would have. However, in the grand scheme of warships, the Glorious would be almost passable. Her chief advantage remained the incredibly thick armour plating, far above every other Battlecruiser in use. Her shields were even contemporary to their modern equivalents, though still outdated.
Now came the question of where to store Maab and his stuff.
The bridge of the Glorious oozed that pre-Clone Wars quality KDY was so obsessed with. Wide, spacious - leather seats for the crew and a top-shelf holotable for the officers. Unlike later ships, the bridge was a single feature. No blast door to seal the forward section from the rear. It was a wide space that narrowed at the back. I moved through it, trying to familiarise myself with the layout - identifying where sections were. Thankfully, KDY had decided on the general layout of their bridges long before the Procurator and that translated into future ships. The command pits were absent, the additional space allowing them to be raised and moved to the walls. The forward half was dominated mostly by empty space and a wide viewport.
It was here that I also finally got a feeling for how startlingly large a Procurator was. Almost a kilometer longer than the Imperial-Class of ships, I could already imagine the issues that came with maneuvering it in busy space traffic. My crew would need to be drilled intensely until they knew this ship as well as they did the Conqueror.
I was joined on the bridge by Harand, who was peering down at a communication relay terminal. It was offline at the moment, but I could tell it was an antique. Another small thing that needed to be replaced or modernised.
"Unfortunately, this ship is neither as fast nor as maneuverable as the Conqueror." I began, hands moving behind my back. Harand hummed before rising. I continued, "Charges will just see us overextended and isolated. We would be too easy to avoid."
"I agree completely, Commodore." Harand said, bobbing his head.
"... I may need to reconsider my current tactics." The words felt sour on my tongue, but it was the truth. The Conqueror was quick for her size, the Procurator was terribly slow for hers. Gallant charges didn't matter if the only ships that couldn't escape us would be the types of ships we didn't want to charge in the first place. Even with the weapons the KDY engineers planned to add, the Glorious would remain an anvil; meant to take punishment and bait an aggressive enemy force to engage it while smaller and faster ships maneuvered around them. The long range batteries would allow us to force that engagement.
It now became a question of how. How did I unlearn a career of institutional aggression?