Captain Tessarion von Calox
I have been a mercenary Explorer for nearly my entire career within the Imperial Exploration Corps. That is not to say I am a deserter, rather the control the IEC had over us is so lax and inconsistent that many of us rely on outside funding to get by. We call ourselves mercenaries in our little circles as an in-joke, and Explorers to the rest of the Empire.
Commodore Tullius was another in a long line of would-be Admirals to hire me, hoping to find some quick riches hidden between the stars of his new sector. More often than not, all that remained were some mined-out asteroids and barren planetoids - despite the low population, the corporations had spent millennia scouring the galaxy.
There was not much unexplored within the N-5 grid, less so within the Ciutric Hegemony itself. Each gravitational anomaly was largely abandoned, smugglers and the like scattered when we passed through.
We were tracking an anomaly a few parsecs off the Veragi Trade Route, closer to Salin and Vinsoth than it was to Ciutric.
"Reversion from lightspeed in ten." The navigator announced from the lower levels. I sat at the pinnacle of the tower, leaning back on my command throne. Personal knick-knacks decorated the left arm, taken from a dozen alien worlds over the years.
"This'll be the last for the week, I think." I decide, pushing off my throne and stretching. The crew was tired, just as I was - everyone could use a little shore time. The Stargazer dropped out of hyperspace quietly, drifting at the very edge of the local system. A large yellow star dominated the center of the system, most of the planets barely being worth the effort of sending a probe to explore their surface. One, however, was interesting - a desert world, second from the star and with a breathable atmosphere.
There were no satellites in orbit, based on the scans sent out by the Stargazer's powerful array. We drifted closer to the world, staring down at its mostly uniform surface. Further, deeper eventually uncovered small settlements and scattered spaceports, but little activity.
"Put together a landing team." I ordered, finding my throne again. The lack of communication attempts indicated the world might be abandoned, or else not in any hurry to contact us. That the world did not appear on the charts I was provided indicated it might be abandoned. "Search the main settlements, see what we can find."
Sergeant Nark Fimmon
The first thing I noticed about the world was how hot it was. No wind, just the silent heat beating down on our heads. It took a moment for the internally regulated temperature of my uniform to kick in. The shade provided by my wide helmet did little to take the edge off the roiling heat.
My squad followed me down, eyes scanning the spaceport our shuttle set down on. There was evidence of some wind as sand had poured over the outer walls of the clearing. The spaceport and town were dug out of the ground, likely to protect the former inhabitants from the sunlight. Only one other shuttle sat in the spaceport, a rusted and dilapidated thing half keeled over on a rusted out landing strut.
"Corporal, check that out - see if anything still works." I ordered, pointing out a squat sandstone-coloured building at the far end of the landing area - likely the central office or 'control tower' for the port. The man nodded and grabbed a few Troopers to bring with him, moving that direction. I brought the rest with me into the town itself, passing through the wide ravine that connected it to the spaceport. A sign sat high above, faded but still readable: "Welcome to Abafar!"
The town was organised in neat straight lines, wide roads separating blocks of tan-coloured buildings. More sand crept in along the outer walls, though the city interior was largely unaffected. Speeders lay abandoned, signs written in aurebesh hanging over businesses that had long since lost power. I signalled for the team to move ahead, setting off down the road.
It became rapidly apparent that the town had been abandoned for years; houses left open and empty, others boarded up. I couldn't get a feel for how long it was empty, but we had explored enough of this type of town in service under von Calox that I could tell it had been years. I watched some men walk into an open door, the sign long since ripped from its frame over the door, before a voice called me over.
"Sergeant, got something here." I turned from the door and walked over to the source of the noise. A speeder, half buried in sand, was surrounded by a few of my men. The speaker was knelt close to the front, dusting something off. It was revealed to be the narrow head of a Separatist battledroid, tan chassis still maintained despite the presumed years it had been laying here. I frowned, waving the man off as I knelt and dug lower down its body. I found a blaster, held loosely in the three-fingered grip of its former owner. An E-5 Blaster Rifle, deceptively heavy compared to the E-11 and SE-14C blasters we carried. I hefted it up into the air and squeezed off a shot. The blaster barked, flashing the road red and drawing eyes toward us. I lowered the weapon and let it drop back onto the road.
"Someone contact the shuttle, tell the Stargazer that Separatist droids may still be active on-world." I ordered. "Before someone walks into an active garrison."
One of the Troopers began to contact the shuttle, only to be interrupted as the signless building came to life. Lights flickered in dusty windows and the gravely tone of a damaged sound system filled the street. I frowned, moving into the building just as the music abruptly stopped. Troopers were milling around inside what appeared to be a bar of some sort, one stepping away from a hastily silenced speaker system. One was behind the bar, digging into the contents beneath the counter only to stand as I approached - looking shame faced.
"All of you, out." I barked, watching the group scurry away from the building as fast their legs could carry them. I peered over the edge of the counter then reached down, catching a remarkably dust-free bottle and pulling it up. I nodded, stuck it in my kit and walked back out.
We didn't run into any active droids for the rest of our time on the planet, though I learned one of the other teams wasn't so lucky. Rotten luck for them, I was glad I didn't need to deal with any clankers.
Sergeant Ferdinand Minos
One of the observation teams had made a discovery nearly two weeks after we returned to Ciutric-IV. Maybe fifty kilometers out of the city my squad was stationed at, we were called in to cut our way into something that was not labeled on local maps. We left as soon as the report came in, tasked by one of the Captains to take a look. Cardon had been sending out smaller squads to investigate the countryside. For what, he never said - I suspected it was just to limit the number of CompForce agents in the capital. He was under less scrutiny if there wasn't an army in the city, or so I guessed.
My squad had spent most of its history fighting in urban environments, so our old Light Transport Vehicles never got the chance to be put through their paces. On those long, straight paths in the Ciutric countryside, those repulsorcraft sailed. We made the fifty kilometer trek in less than half an hour - moving off the main road and into a side trail.
Probably half a kilometer out, the dedicated energy receptor in my vehicle was chirping - it was picking out a very large concentration of active electronics. Out here, that was surprising - and immediately suspicious. I brought the long-range communicator online, tapping into the command frequency. After a moment, I belted out a series of code phrases - first to identify myself, second to confirm I was not speaking under duress and third to give my report. The Captain was now aware we had found something, but what it was remained to be seen.
Another LTV sat on the side of the road, its driver flagging us down. The man wore a parka over his armour, in preparation for the dark clouds gathering overhead. The lead vehicle drifted past the man as mine stopped next to him, the driver lowering its window so I could speak to him.
"Sergeant. We've got a blast door in the hillside up ahead. Special Agent Grimmsen thinks there's something inside."
"I figured as much, the DER was picking it up half a kilometre out. Has he tried cutting through?"
"We estimate the door is a metre, maybe a metre and a half thick. We'd need to ditch the fusion cutters and bring out the turbolasers to get through. One of our guys is trying to Slice in, no luck so far."
"Alright." I patted the driver on the shoulder and pointed to the right side of the trail, beneath the cover of the trees. "Get us over there. All units: get off the road, it's going to rain. And close your damned roofs! If you get your transport flooded, you're walking back. Kartl, grab your kit and dismount - find out how far along Grimmsen is."
Kartl was our squad engineer who did some Slicing on the side. We carried around a cadre of pre-programmed Spikes - standardised Slicing programs to cover a variety of needs - but Kartl was probably the only member that understood Slicing well enough to tweak them. I saw the man hop out of the lead LTV, a blaster held by its strap in one hand and a satchel in the other. We drifted over to the right shoulder before setting down, leaving some of the squad behind to watch the transport while the rest of us followed the parka-wearing Agent in the direction of the bunker. We were moving through the undergrowth, though given how the trees parted here I guessed there must have been a path here at some point.
"Strange place for a bunker." I commented, to which the Agent spoke up.
"We don't think this is the main entrance. Our other LTV is scouring the hills east of here to find another way in."
I hummed, but did not respond as we crested the ridge and looked down at a clearing. It was clear some of the underbrush had been cleared recently, likely by the team of similarly parka-ladden Agents. One hefted a flame projector, evidence of his vegetation-clearing around him.
Special Agent Grimmsen greeted me, looking miserable in the growing dim.
"Sergeant." He greeted me, turning now to face the door as he did. "We've been at it for awhile, my guy can't get through."
"Let's let Kartl have a go before we throw in the towel." I decided, watching as the Agent shouldered Grimmsen's man out of the way and began digging through his pack. "How'd you find it?"
"Whatever this complex is, it isn't very deep underground. We were moving over the hills east of here, sensors picked up something dense and hollow close to the surface. We stumbled over the entrance. I've got a team-"
"Searching for another entrance." I finished, nodding. "You don't think it's a bunker? No sign of it on your maps, either?"
"Not unless you have access to something we don't. As for it being a bunker… Well, it could be a hideaway in case the government is deposed, but I would have dug a little deeper. My guess? Storage."
"It would explain another entrance." I agreed, eyeing the doorway. It was probably nine meters wide, meant to allow foot traffic but not large amounts of hardware or valuables.
Kartl worked on the door for an hour - fifteen minutes in, the rain hit. Sheepishly, I sent some men back to grab our rain gear while the rest of us hid in the shadow of trees to stay relatively dry. Darkness set in as this part of Ciutric seemed to be hit by the worst rain in years, illuminated only on occasion by flashes of lightning. I severely doubted closing the LTVs off would do anything to save them from the rainfall and I would be the one to suffer my warning of walking back to the city.
Finally, the door opened - letting out a shrill shriek as it did so.
"Got it." Kartl announced unnecessarily, stepping back and bringing his blaster up to aim through the doorway. Several other nearby Agents did the same, a pair turning on their flashlights and aiming into the dim.
There was a short landing before the entrance dipped into a steep set of stairs going down.
"Fark, light it up." I ordered, keeping both hands on my carbine though I had yet to raise it. One of the frontmen let his blaster drop and hang by its strap, pulling a short stick off of his bandolier and clicking a button on its top. Immediately, it glowed a bright white, illuminating the clearing once more. The Agent edged over to the entrance and sidearmed the glowstick down the stairs, peering over the edge.
"It goes down maybe fifteen meters and levels out, continuing forward. Can't see anything else." He reported.
"You and you, stay here." I pointed out two Agents. "Keep your comms open. The moment you hear any interference from our end, report it."
The rest of us began moving down. A vanguard of four Agents went first, rushing down to the next landing and taking up what positions they could. The stairs led down to a longer hallway, level and without much cover for any attackers. We moved deeper, an abandoned checkpoint before the hallway opened into a larger entrance chamber. Signage bearing aurebesh betrayed this as an employee entrance, directing different staff on where to go. The security area was empty, though we found a rack with blasters and other service weapons. The lack of dust was telling - someone or something was still maintaining this place.
As we left the room, the entrance guards reported that they were having trouble hearing us. Going forward, I relied on runners to move back toward the entrance and give reports or check in, but beyond that we pressed forward.
We must have entered on the administrative side of this compound as we found bunks, meeting rooms and messhalls. We followed a pathway into a labelled storage area; a map indicating we were on the first level of eight, moving down from a series of large freight elevators or emergency stairs. Kartl began slicing through the door, far faster as it seemed the security was lighter inside than outside. One of the pre-prepared Spikes got through and we entered a cavernous chamber - holding shelves stacked high to the ceiling.
"Bloody hell." Grimmsen muttered as he walked alongside one shelf, staring at rows upon rows of inactive battle droids. Separatist battle droids, tan marked and all. These were the least of them, as the deeper we went we discovered their more dangerous cousins. Super Battle Droids, sparse Droidekas and even a cadre of Commando Droids. It was the Clone Wars aficionado's playhouse - and this was only the first level.
At the very back, we found a Tactical Droid slumped back in what seemed to be a command throne torn from the bridge of a ship. Its visored head was tilted to one side and its eyes were dim, but I had seen enough of them in older holos about the war to recognise one on sight.
"A little too well maintained to be left over from the war." Grimmsen murmured, staring at the droid alongside me.
"Yeah. The Major is going to want to know about this." I agreed, before raising my blaster and putting two bolts in the droid - one in its head and the other in its chest. The last thing we needed was a droid that could think for itself running around. "Try to find a manifest, I want to know just what we are dealing with here."
Rivejer Tullius
With the situation at Aar finished, I was finally given the chance to return to Ciutric. Loathe though I was to spend more time than strictly necessary in the seat of Pestage power, Ciutric-IV held the facilities to produce new fighters for my fleet. I had never truly appreciated starfighters until they were absent.
"The situation on Argazda would be helped with your presence, Commodore." Alana Pestage-Neron was speaking to me as we left the Aar system. "A show of might."
"I believe that defeats the entire purpose of that exercise, Captain. The plan is to make them less suspicious, nor more. If Nereus needs my help, he will call for it." Though my hesitation was not entirely pragmatic. After the words we shared, I was not eager to speak with or see the man. I did not like being seen through and recognised as the ill-prepared fool I was - at least, not as directly as Nereus had.
She had also wanted me to go to Vinsoth, to oversee the integration of the new garrison and how they would operate alongside the Salin garrison. I had refused those as well, at least until after the Ciutric stop. So that was where we went, dropping out of hyperspace at the edge of the system. It was unchanged from the last time I was here, save the Slice Runner which was still at Argazda. Nereus was hard at work, tightening the grip of the Directory over its subjects. I briefly played with the idea of pushing to have an actual Governor installed there, perhaps even Nereus himself, but decided against it. On matters of politics and control, I was woefully untrained.
I forwarded my access codes and we were unharassed the rest of the way to the docking bay. I left the task of overseeing our maintenance and resupply to Harand, calling Matread and Hamne into a meeting. The purpose? To address what fighters we would be taking on. The local Sienar facility was licensed to produce a majority of their catalog.
"I am partial to maintaining our current fighter doctrine." I began the meeting, seated in the conference room. Matread was attending via hologram while Hamne joined us in-person. Nereus was still busy on Argazda, so one of his staff was attending over the HoloNet as well. I did not expect we would need to pay for the fighters directly out of Arrowhead's coffers, but it was good to have a reasonable voice at hand in case the fighter adherents went too far.
"However, I am cognisant of the fact that I am not the expert here. I open the floor to you two."
"Given the current state of our Cruiser line, we need a greater emphasis on bombers to make up the shortfall. Long-range bombers, to act independently of the fleet." Matread spoke up first, leaning over the table. "And escorts that can protect them on these strikes."
"That sounds expensive." I note mildly.
"And inefficient, given our current fighter capacity capabilities." To my surprise, Hamne stepped in to support my side. "I agree with the Commodore. A mixed approach to support the slow-moving Capital ships is our best option - and the easiest to maintain in terms of numbers."
The two were quick to outline their perspectives on what tactics the fleet should adopt. Hamne was the most familiar to me, the F-I-B trifecta: Fighters, Interceptors and Bombers, each dedicated to their specific role. It was the doctrine that Sienar had been working with for decades, building several hyper-focused spacecraft. The TIE Fighter, the TIE Interceptor and the TIE Bomber were common everywhere in the galaxy, making them easy to source and train new pilots on. He had less care for my Blastboats, which had ostensibly acted under the auspices of fighter command for years. They were technically not fighters, though I used them as such and they were piloted by men of the Imperial Starfighter Corps. They were awkward to fly and expensive to maintain.
Matread was the opposite in many ways, citing more unique Sienar products when it became clear that non-Sienar ships were mostly out of the question. TIE Heavy Bombers or their larger cousins, the TIE Punishers, were his preferred method. Slow moving, but significantly well-armed even compared to the already powerful TIE Bomber. He bemoaned the lack of a feasibly affordable multirole fighter in the Sienar product line. He accepted a larger Fighter wing, but wanted the Interceptors reduced to a token size. Let the TIE Fighters fill many roles, from escort to patrol to interception. However, his stance on the Blastboats was the opposite to Hamne. If he could not have a multirole Fighter, then he would have a multirole Bomber. The Skipray was a highly modular design, capable of being outfitted for a variety of tasks. His defense of the ship was not surprising, he had been the one to recommend them to me all those years ago - citing our lack of Bombers as a detriment. I had been greener then, desperately trying to surround myself with competent officers and hoping to make them like me. Still, those miniature Capital ships served with distinction over the last few months - I was thoroughly sold on them now.
"At the present time, I will have to agree with Commander Hamne. I doubt our friends over at Sienar will be particularly willing to start completely new production lines just to match our hyperspecific needs. Perhaps once Captain Nereus and his staff have a better understanding of the situation, we can readdress this?" I announced. Hamne nodded, grim and serious as always, while Matread seemed thunderous. I decided to throw him a small bone and continued. "However, on the matter of bombers, I remain partial to the Skipray Blastboats. As such, part of the funding for the bomber fleet will remain with the Blastboats. I recognise that the Skipray line is not typically your domain, but I see no reason to change how we have operated thus far."
With that, I called the meeting to a close. Matread and Hamne would need to hash out how the incoming TIE Bombers would be integrated with the Blastboats under their command, alongside how to organise the Fighter fleet. That was their domain, my care would always remain in the Capital ships.
Unfortunately, instead of continuing to scheme ways to use the flying brick I called a flagship, I would need to deal with a far larger headache.
Major Rik Cardon.
I went down to the planet to meet with the man, citing the desire to see how the training he and his Agents were up to. Captain Pestage-Neron tagged along, which I allowed - best not to appear suspicious and deny her outright.
Captain Alana Pestage-Neron
It occurred to me, sitting in this sleepy conference room, that this was the first time I had ever met a ranking officer from CompForce. I had seen their Agents - brutish thugs to the last - but their officers were often enigmatic or lunatics unwilling to meet with anyone outside their superiors. Rik Cardon seemed far more well-spoken than I expected from that sort of man, dressed in a black uniform and speaking with the Commodore as if they were old friends. Tullius barely reciprocated, but that seemed par for the course. Most times, he appeared entirely disinterested with the galaxy around him - that he was speaking so freely may well be a sign they were close friends.
Not surprising, if indeed Tullius was CompForce's creature.
"Our efforts are going well." Cardon explained easily, answering Tullius' question about the quality of their training. "These men never get much of a chance to train outside urban environments. I have them spread across the planet."
Which I was sure the Pestage Clan was very happy over. I sat quietly as they spoke, my mind partially elsewhere. I tried to figure out the next step in my plan to keep the Commodore away from Ciutric. My mind came to a screeching halt as Cardon spoke almost casually about a recent discovery.
"We found a massive storage of battle droids, Separatist ones. From the War, no doubt."
"Hmm. I'm surprised no one found it before now." Tullius noted mildly, a frown on his face. There was an odd tone to his voice, as if there were some unspoken meaning behind his words. Cardon nodded his head in agreement.
"Someone must have, they were quite well maintained. A force that large, they might have threatened the local garrison had we not found them."
"A good thing, then. Any leads on who this storage belonged to?"
"We are looking into it."
I was more surprised that my family failed to find this storage before the CompForce goons, who had been on the planet for a few short weeks. Especially given the ease with which they accomplished this. If there was some Separatist remnant group on Ciutric-IV, dealing with them as quickly as possible would be a priority.
I must admit that it took me an embarrassingly long time to realise why the mood in the room felt so off, or why Tullius and Cardon seemed to not say anything definitive over the course of the conversation. It was possible that they believed the Pestages had been the ones maintaining and operating that storage of Separatist relics.
Which meant the Pestage Clan was now under the scrutiny of CompForce.
Grand Admiral Rufaan Tigellinus
I swirled a drink in my hand as I looked over the night skyline of Imperial Center's former Senatorial district. The aroma of fruitiness and a faint spice greeted my nose as I brought the glass back to my lips - but I stopped short of drinking any more of it. My mood was sour and that would quickly ruin a vintage such as this. I was not Teshik or Takel - one who needed to pound back pure alcohol to feel anything and the other a prolific substance abuser. I enjoyed my drinks with class and dignity, in the public eye and in private.
With a suppressed sigh, I set the glass back down and folded my hands back in my lap. Efforts in unifying the Core had met a snag as of late, not helped by my association with Miltin Takel. The Empire's nobility needed a strong leader, something Pestage could not provide given the array of enemies his government faced. I had been roped into strengthening his position, but these last few months had quickly proven to me how difficult a task that would be. My greed had gotten the better of my pragmatism, as Pestage seemed set on making as many enemies as possible.
"Grand Admiral, the report from Carida." A woman's soft voice drew me from my thoughts, coming from the door somewhere behind me. I gestured to the table next to me, listening to the steady sounds of her heels as she approached. A datapad slid silently onto the table before she retreated just as quietly.
Carida. The latest problem and a world I could not let slip out from my coalition. So long as my allies maintained control of the world - and remained loyal to me - I controlled where the flow of Stormtroopers went. That was to say, Teshik controlled where the flow of Stormtroopers went through me. I was cognisant of the fact I was all but a puppet for his influence. For years, the man had played the aloof and unapproachable leader. Now, suddenly, he had greater interest in the functionality of the Empire's political system. He was arguably more difficult to predict than Takel some days - and Takel seemed to make decisions on whatever childish whim he had! Social and outreach programs, something I had never seen Teshik authorise or oversee, had spread across the Core. All at the behest of the least human Grand Admiral.
That was including the actual alien.
Still, despite the erratic mannerisms Teshik seemed to adopt, he did clean up his reputation. I wish the same could be said of Takel.
Teshik needs to cut him loose. I thought bitterly, but it was old ground I had tread. No matter how abysmal Takel's reputation became, Teshik wanted to keep him afloat. He was the one of us three that could still spend time outside the Core and command fleets and Teshik refused to surrender his work in the Core to me entirely. Fair's fair, Takel was easy to trust - the man had little political power left to his name at the moment.
Still, could he not have picked a less degenerate confederate? Makati?
I glanced again at my wine glass before finally letting the sigh escape my lips. I rose from my seat and stepped up to the window, hands folding behind my back.
Despite the success of Operation: HAMMERSTORM and Takel's sieges, the situation beyond the Core was declining rapidly. With Syn presumed dead and Pitta becoming more and more insular, our little triumvirate was running out of potential allies. My faction in COMPNOR was still fighting for control of the organisation and the illusion of control Imperial Center had over Imperial forces outside the Core dissolved by the day.
A flash somewhere below drew my eye, reflexively making me look down.
I need to meet with Rendili tomorrow. I remembered, nearly forgetting about that meeting. With KDY struggling to meet their quotas, Teshik wanted to open a production line through their rivals at Rendili. It seemed that the Dreadnaught would be getting a new lease on life, for a while at least… That isn't a speeder.
There was a no-fly zone set around the building where I resided, protected by a shield and anti-air positions nearby. When bright green lances tried to shoot the glowing thing down, I realised something was wrong. A moment too late, I realised whatever that thing was, it was headed toward me.
I cursed, turning on my heel and sprinting for the door. There was a crash as the window shattered, the shield was down.
Why is the shield down-
An explosion rocked the room, engulfing me instantly.