“What’s that?” Tornel asked, sitting down across from Theren. In the newly-branded Commodore’s hands was a rather large, ungainly datapad – almost half again the size of a man’s hand.

“Ancient human literature.” Theren replied, not looking up. “A large compendium of religious writings, to be exact. The teachings within unofficially governed human society for a long period of time.” He stopped reading, and handed the datapad across the table, to Tornel.

“The bible?” He asked, scanning over the words on the electronic page. “A pretty creative name for a religious text, eh?”

“It was the origin of the word.” Theren said, as his new aide returned the datapad. “The word was originally in reference to this. Life Day is derived from the day of celebration from the birth of the main character in the latter half of this book.” Theren frowned. “The name has been lost in translation, though. It calls him ‘Foretold Anointed’, now.” He threw the datapad down onto the table. “It doesn’t matter, really.”

“You don’t believe in any of that shit, do you?” Tornel asked, gesturing at it uncertainly. “Religious texts are pretty frowned upon by the Empire.”

“Of course I don’t.” Theren said. “I just think it’s an interesting quasi-historical piece. You know, in this book, the ruling government is a theocracy. Church and state are so melded, you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Funny thing is, when this savior that everyone’s been waiting for, for x number of years, finally comes along, they kill him.”

“They kill their own god?” Tornel asked. “Nice to know that we come from such civilized origins.”

“Well, whether he was real or not, as far as I can tell, they pretty much summarily executed him – didn’t give a fuck if he was or he wasn’t.” Theren shrugged. “There’s another prominent theocracy that we all know and love. I just think its interesting to see what history teaches us about what becomes of theocracies.”

“The Republic.”

“Right.” Theren chuckled. “It’s a strange thing, you know. God creates something, and even though he says that it’s good, it turns on him. They call that theodicy. Or they used to. The question of how there can be evil in the world if God is so good.”

“It’s an interesting question, Theren.” Tornel said, looking somewhat quizzically at him. “But I don’t understand the context. Isn’t the question irrelevant if there is no god?”

“Not necessarily. All of these religious texts are at least somewhat metaphorical. Since someone, somewhere along the line had to make them up, they generally try to say something. The Bible is like a collaborative novel, and theodicy is one of its themes.” Theren fixed Tornel with a bemused look. “And history never dies. I thought you’d have learned that at Dantooine.”

Tornel nodded his assent. “Yeah.”

“There are a lot of modern applications to these lessons. One, I can think of very clearly.”

“What?”

“Tilaric Brel.”

Tornel furrowed his brow at the mention of the traitor’s name. “What do you mean?”

“Tilaric Brel was created by the Empire. He was a clone, a perfect clone, created to serve the Emperor. Yet, strangely, he turned on us. He killed billions of our people. How, if the mighty Empire is so great and good, can our creations be so terrible and evil?”

Tornel said nothing.

“It’s a good question, isn’t it?” Theren tapped the datapad. “This book, however, offers very few answers, and a number of questions.” Finally, finished speaking, Theren noticed it on Tornel’s face; a look of nervousness, pressure, as if something were weighing on him heavily. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s funny you should mention Brel.” He said, gulping slightly. “Because our next assignment came in. Someone upstairs was pretty impressed by what you pulled at Dantooine. It’s an important one.”

“What is it?”

“Bastion.”

All remaining joviality was drained from Theren’s face. “Bastion?” He said. “I don’t want to fucking go back there. There’s no god damn way I'm doing it.”

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” Tornel asked, as Theren shoved more of his belongings into a small case. “They tell me the system is rather unoccupied, at the moment, in terms of rebel guard vessels. It should be cut and dry. It is a routine mission of cleanup.”

“Of course I am.” He swore again, taking the piece of luggage in his hand, and starting for the door. “I have to do it. Someone has to do it.” He stopped walking, and Tornel stopped with him. “Who gave me this assignment, anyway?”

“Vice-Admiral Vikar. It was handed down to him from the Regent, though.”

“Of course.” Theren shook his head. “A Commodore is ordered to retake the most important Imperial planet aside from Coruscant. What a load of shit. Why didn’t they just have Kaine do it?”

Tornel didn’t answer. He just looked at Theren, smirked a little, and started walking again. Theren cursed and followed him.



The Zenith, a Star Destroyer which had been assigned Theren – and provided for him to name – dropped out of hyperspace in a sudden, quick motion. Theren had to grab a rail to steady himself; the drop was unexpected. “I didn’t order you to drop out until we reached one of the four inner orbits of this system. What the hell is going on here?”

“There’s some sort of interdictor field, sir.” Replied one of his officers. “I can’t pick up just where it’s coming from, but it’s definitely here. The gravity flux is playing with our sensors.”

Theren nodded. “This system isn’t as unguarded as Imperial Command would have us believe. Someone is still here.” He looked out the viewport, the wide transparisteel panel showing a clear, macabre view of the Bastion system. Within it, mere silhouettes on the bright outline of the Bastion sun, were the thousands of broken hulks which formed the grisly graveyard remnant of the battle of Bastion. The mangled masses of metal extended out as far as where the Zenith lay, on the very edge of the system. The mere visage of the ghoulish wrecks brought back vivid memories of that bloody battle.

“Are we picking up anything on scanners?”

“Not yet, sir.”

Theren steeled his jaw, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “Deploy support craft. A squadron of TIE Fighters, and keep the shuttles on alert.” An Imperial Star Destroyer, because of its size, often employed several shuttles around it to support its girth with repairs and supplies. The common misconception was that the Imperial Star Destroyer was some sort of 100% self-sustained juggernaut. “I want those TIE Fighters scanning every inch of rock and metal they come across. Scan for movement and ion trails. There’s too much god damn metal out there; you could hide a fleet in the wreckage.”

A moment passed, and Theren spoke again. “I’ll be in my office. Tornel, come with me.”

The two left the bridge, and Tornel, catching up with Theren, muttered, “Why?”

“You know how I said that you could hide a fleet in that wreckage?”

“Yes.”

“The thing is, I’m absolutely fucking sure that’s what someone is doing.”

The bridge of the Star Destroyer Vengeance was dark, as were those of every other ship in the fleet. They had been powered down, all but life support systems, in order to find out exactly who was after the former Imperial Capital and.. for what.

After a good deal of intelligence checking, they had come to the conclusion that this force was, indeed, from the New Order. A pleasing bit of information for Voltimas, who was looking to prove himself a worthy ally to them.

"Commander, power up the fleet and pulls us out of this space junk. Then open a channel for me."

"Yes, my Lord."

Interior and running lights returned to the First Crimson Fleet. Engines began once more to rage against the cold dead of space. Weapons, communications, and all other systems returned to full power. Suddenly, transponder signals once more rang out silently in the night.

The fleet began to move slowly out, undoubtedly already catching the attention of the Imperials. Finally the full first fleet was clear of the Debris field. A rather impressive fleet, for such an unknown quantity in the galaxy.

The communications channel opened.

"Greetings, Imperial Commander. I am Lord Voltimas, Grand Admiral of the Crimson Regime."




OOC Manifest


Imperial Class Star Destroyer - Vengeance (Flagship)
(12 Tie-Phantoms, 42 TIE Defenders, 4 Sentinel-Class Shuttles)

Victory MkI-Class Star Destroyer - Champion
(12 TIE Interceptors, 12 TIE Bombers, 5 Imperial Landing Craft)

Aegis Star Cruiser Mk II - Executioner
(Lambda Class Shuttle, 24 TIE Phantoms)

Aegis Star Cruiser Mk II - Deliverer
(Lambda Class Shuttle, 12 TIE Phantoms, 12 TIE Defenders)

Aegis Star Cruiser Mk II - Savior
(Gamma Class Shuttle, 24 TIE Defenders)

Aegis Star Cruiser Mk II - Defender
(12 TIE Defenders)

Aegis Star Carrier - Hive
(196 TIE Raptors with independent Droid Brains)

Aegis Star Carrier - Nest
(196 TIE Raptors with independent Droid Brains)

Aegis Star Carrier - Lair
(196 TIE Raptors with independent Droid Brains)

Aegis Star Carrier - Beast
(196 TIE Raptors with independent Droid Brains)

Aegis Star Carrier - Swarm
(48 E-wings)

Interdictor-Class Cruiser - Imobilizer

Interdictor-Class Cruiser - Crusher

Carrack-Class Cruiser - Wild Fire

Carrack-Class Cruiser - Winddancer

Carrack-Class Cruiser - Shadowmoon

Carrack-Class Cruiser - Missionary

Nebulon B Frigate - Greatness

11 Skipray blastboats

“So,” Theren said, pointing down at the holoprojected map, “We’ll move in across here, directly towards the sun. If we pick up so much as a fleck of ion where it shouldn’t be, we shower the area with cover fire.” Tornel nodded in reply. “We send a squadron of TIEs up either side – here, and here – and keep them on alert, separated from us by the wreckage. Essentially, it creates three rows; no matter where they attack from, we either have them flanked, or have them in a position where we can lead them into a superior force.”

Tornel took note of all this on a datapad, occasionally looking up from his record-keeping to view the hologram illustration of Gevel’s plan. “And what if this rebel fleet is more than we can handle?”

Theren stared at the holoprojector, not meeting the gaze of his aide. “They send me one fucking Star Destroyer to do this with, so we’re going to have to do it with one fucking Star Destroyer.” He shook his head. “We have no choice. The Empire is short on vessels, short on personnel, and short on options, so we’ve got to do our best.”

Tornel nodded, and the two headed for the hydraulic door. “You don’t seem to be very pleased with this situation, Commodore,” The aide commented candidly.

“What tipped you off?” Theren replied sarcastically, throwing a glower Tornel’s way. “I don’t want to be here. I never wanted to be here. And now we’re stuck with one Star Destroyer against whatever the hell is waiting for us in this mess of a system, cleaning up the shit of an insane despot that I almost died throwing down. I just…”

“What?”

“I feel as if I dedicate my life to this god forsaken organization, and the more I give and sacrifice, the more trouble I get. I help kill Brel, I capture an Imperial traitor at Dantooine, and I get one understaffed Star Destroyer to face some sort of phantom menace hiding in the husks of ships I destroyed. I feel like Job.”

“Job?” Tornel began to ask, but was immediately cut off by a ring tone at his waist. He reached for his commlink, bringing it to his ear and nodding as a muffled voice spoke to him. After a moment, he turned to Gevel, raising his eyebrows. “You know how you said you could hide a fleet in the wreckage?”

“Yeah.”

“I think we may have found it.”

Theren and Tornel entered the bridge in a rush, with the Commodore still re-adjusting the uniform jacket he frequently removed when not on the bridge. “Situation?” He asked.

“We’re being hailed, sir, by one Voltimas, purportedly of the Crimson Regime.”

“Rebels.” Theren said instinctively. “You mean, the Crimson Rebels.”

“Not according to mister Voltimas.”

Theren puzzled for a moment, then shrugged. “His vessels?”

The officer ran down the list of vessels at the other commanders disposal – quite an impressive list.

When he was finished, Theren said, “Put in a call to Imperial command – request another Star Destroyer and support craft. I don’t want to fight him so shorthanded, though hopefully it won’t come to that. If he’s hailing, that’s a better sign than if he’s shooting. Put him through.”

Tornel whispered, “Is this your hidden rebel fleet?”

“Not likely,” Theren replied. “I’ve read the file on this Voltimas… a shady character. A clone, some reports say. He wasn’t at Bastion, so he’d have no reason to be hiding here waiting to spring on unsuspecting Imperials. And he was recently at Mon Calamari.”

“Ah.”

“Channel opened, sir,” The communications officer said.

“This is Commodore Theren Gevel of the New Order, responding to a hail by Lord Voltimas. What is your business in Imperial space?”

Carnor Jax had received word that he was needed on the bridge of the Vengeance. Though he was unsure as to why, he did not question orders. A full stride brought him aboard the bridge where he promptly saluted the Grand Admiral, Lord Voltimas. A death black cloak swirled about him concealing like covered armor. His helm, trimmed in crimson, hid his face from the outside world. He was, at the least, one of the best of the best.

Voltimas looked upon him, after returning the salute.

"Take over here, I am going to my meditation chambers. You have full command of the fleet, Grand Master Jax. Also, hail them using current Imperial Code. We don't want anyone else listening in on what you have to say."

"Yes, Lord Voltimas."

Voltimas turned and took his leave of the bridge. His stride took him directly to the chamber which he had retrofitted to be a place of meditation for him. His confidence in Jax was unyielding. He knew if anyone could convince these Imperials that they were there to help, it would be Jax. After all, he was the Grand Master of the Imperial Royal Guard.

Silently seating himself, Voltimas began to meditate. Reaching out to the surrounding area with the Force he began to search. His search was made more difficult by the fact he did not know what he was looking for, only that there was something out there. Something that was not right with his mind.

Upon the bridge, Carnor Jax opened a channel once more. This time he broadcast on the most current Imperial code. He also made his broadcast in full holo.

"Greetings, Commodore Gevel. I, as you may or may not be aware, am the Grand Master of the Imperial Royal Guard, Carnor Jax. I am second in command of the Crimson Regime at this time and will be speaking henceforth for Lord Voltimas who has retired to his meditation chamber. Please do not take his absence as a sign of disrespect.

I am sure, by now, you are reviewing intelligence reports on our little band here. I am sure they have shown you that many of our officers and crew were once of the Crimson Empire headed by the, now dead, Dark Lord of the Sith, Maim. I am sure they have also shown you that in previous incidents we have shown loyalty to the Coalition of Light Factions.

I am sure you have also taken a full inventory of our ships. From their transponder signals I can only guess you have surmised that some of them also come from the Crimson Empire, though others come from other places and have been altered to hide that past.

However, what your intelligence will not tell you is that we are, in fact, not loyal to the Coalition but instead wish to see the Empire returned to it's former glory. The Dark Lord, however gifted in other areas, treated us, the members of the Royal Guard, as his personal assassins and slaves. We have usurped his power so that we may better serve the Empire as a whole.

Now, I am sure that you will have pause to disbelieve us. However, had we had other intentions we could easily have obliterated you by now. Also, I am passing you a few bits of intelligence we procured from the Coalition before leaving.

One, that it is in their plans to attack the corporation LFX Industrial, if that matters to you in the least. Two, and most importantly, that they intend to launch an assault upon Coruscant itself.

I wait silently your reply to all that I have said, as I know it is alot to take in."

The Grand Master did, in fact, go silent at that moment. He stood rigid and unyielding to the elements awaiting a reply from the Imperial Commander.

Theren glanced sideways at Tornel, who stood conveniently out of the area targetted for transmission by the holoprojector. “One moment, then, while I confer with my crew.” Carnor Jax nodded in reply, and the transmission ceased. Tornel approached.

“They’re not offering us too much choice, with that numerical advantage. However, had we had other intentions we could easily have obliterated you by now.” Tornel looked out the wide viewports of the Imperial Star Destroyer’s bridge at the ships of the Crimson Regime, and added, “A friendly introduction.”

“They have an agenda, Tornel. Whether or not they’re offering us a choice is irrelevant; obviously, they have a reason for being here, and it isn’t to ignite the wrath of the Empire to destroy one ImpStar.” Theren looked about the bridge. “Someone, bring me the most recent intelligence report on the Crimson… whatevers. They want something from us.”

An officer nodded in reply, and immediately sat down at a terminal and began pounding away at the keys. Tornel said, “That would explain their meeting us here, and informing us of anti-Imperial CoLF plans. They want to buy our friendship.”

The officer approached Theren and handed him a datapad, which the commodore accepted and scanned. “Yes. It doesn’t seem that they left the CoLF of their own volition, but were forced out by political turmoil. They’re planning retaliation, and their want our help.”

“So, do we accept?”

Theren thought for a moment. “The Coalition obviously isn’t going to be friendly to the Empire for any longer than is convenient, but whether we should ally ourselves with defiant enemies of the Coalition so soon is questionable… especially when we’d have to speak for the Empire to do so.”

Tornel nodded. “It’s your decision.”

“Yes, it is.” He sighed. “Things just got even more complicated. Now, not only do we have to contend with this rebel fleet, but we have to avoid an intergalactic political incident. Wonderful – just fucking wonderful.” He turned to the communications officer yet again, muttering, “Open up the channel, again.”

Theren opened his mouth to speak, wondering how he could possibly believe a man who had openly rebelled, who had joined the Coalition of Lightside Factions. How could he now claim to wish to serve the Empire? He could not be trusted.

But then, he stopped stopped. The holographic image of Carnor Jax still hung there, above the bridge of the Zenith, dressed in his royal guard garb. “Grand Master Jax, you said that you were in the Royal Guard, correct?”

“Yes.”

A royal guard; an Imperial super-soldier creation, like Tilaric Brel. Carnor Jax had rebelled from his own Empire, a personification in and of himself of Job, created by a master who tested and tried him. And in that moment, Theren had something of a revelation. He thought a moment more, then said, “You know, Carnor Jax, that I cannot speak for the Empire or Regent Daemon Hyfe in establishing alliances. And yet, you have put me in a difficult position, where you are forcing me to, one way or another. But I must inform you that I have reason to believe the wreckage which orbits this system’s star may hide in its midst the remnants of a rebel fleet – and it is for this reason that we may co-operate, for now, in its destruction. Perhaps, by doing so,” Theren said, raising his eyebrows, “You might convince the Regent of your intentions, and spare me having to speak for him now. If you understand my meaning.”

Jax broke his silence once more.

"Yes, of course I understand that you cannot speak for the Empire. I will, however, impart to you a few important facts which may be useful in trusting us for the duration of this battle, if indeed there comes one.

Firstly that we did, infact, join the Coalition to secure valuable information with which to combat this growing threat to the Empire. Secondly, and with the utmost of confidence in your ability to keep details hidden from all those who do not need to know them, that we did this at the behest of the fallen Dark Lord of the Sith. It was, infact, his idea that we join with Skywalker and lead to his overall downfall into the darkness.

At his command we usurped his Empire and destroyed him and he is, at this very moment, in the process of being reborn once more upon the sacred Sith planet of Korriban. Perhaps that information will shed a bit of light onto our intentions here.

That being said, I still understand that you cannot speak for the Empire. We will aid you in securing this planet from whatever rebel forces now occupy it. We will aid you of our own accord with no promise of repayment or alliance with the New Order. We will do so because it is our job.

Remember, Commodore, Loyalty never dies."

With that, the Grand Master ordered the fleet to full battle readiness. He also ordered them to take any commands given them by the ranking Imperial Officer. This was his show, after all, they were just there for support.

Times had changed dramatically for Lord Voltimas who was born, or rather created, as Anakin Skywalker. Originally he had been intended as a nexus of dark power which the Dark Lord of the Sith could bend at his will into a vassal of such destruction as to never be challenged. Then he had suffered the pains of exile as he refused to be party to such acts of horrific violence. He had sought out the Jedi Order and it's teachings and become student of Leia Organa Solo.

He had, after time, found the teachings of the Jedi Order lacking and began to learn at his own pace. To learn things forbidden by the Jedi Order such as the ancient art of Morichro which he had protected from becoming a tool of the Dark Lord. He had found the teachings of the Order far to inhibiting both in time and speed. He also had found them far to detached from the pulse of the galaxy. They stood by while those who they were supposedly protecting were slaughtered by their enemies.

Eventually he had called himself a Jedi Shadow and declared himself a Knight of that order. That had led him into a grey area which would eventually cause his fall into darkness. He had spoken to the Crimson Guard in an attempt to get them to aid him in bringing peace, through force, to the Galaxy. In they end they had only further aided in his swift fall to the shadows of the Dark Side of the Force.

Now it held him like a newborn baby. It encircled him in increasing intensity. It's power was easy to gain and grew exponentially as he fed it with his feelings of disgust, rage, hate, and all other passions. Now it consumed him utterly and he was lost to the life he once held to. His views of the galaxy had been distorted by the acts of cowardice and treachery on the behalf of the Coalition. He had been betrayed by them and that betrayal would not go unanswered.

He was now, as he had been destined to be, a vassal of Darkness. He was the shroud of evil that fell upon and blanketed the galaxy for the return of the Dark Lord of the Sith who he would eventually serve to one end alone.

The destruction of his enemies.

He would have his vengeance upon those who held him down and who, he felt, betrayed him. He would bring his wrath upon those who had outright cast him from the light and into the shadows. He would have his vengeance upon the worlds of those who spoke loud, but did nothing.

He would have his vengeance upon all.



Now sitting in his meditation chamber he felt the power of the Dark Side of the Force flood him and instantly the business of many minds washed over him. First those of his ship and then outward, beyond his ship, his fleet, and even the Imperial ship before him. Then it was silent, but only for a moment.

Minds, all seeming tense and nervous as if hiding from some ravenous predator. Their minds were very disorganized but somehow still focused on the same goals. Many different types of minds there were. Some human, some alien, but all with a hearty distaste for him, that much he could tell.

Deeper and deeper he fell into his meditative trance.. deeper into the darkness..

Silently and with a grace only a woman could possess, her bare feet carried her through the dark shadows of the meditation chamber. Adorned in the sheerest silks, the gown clung to every curve of her slender form, the color accentuating her sun gold hair. Along the edge of the room she walked, her chocolate eyes never straying from the man that sat in the center of the chamber.

Arai had watched Voltimas with a growing intrigue ever since their chance meeting at Mon Cal. He had taken her from the self destructing vessel as though without a thought, perhaps as though he had no choice. Something had drawn her to Voltimas the moment he had first touched her, despite his foolish dedication to the Light.

But now, having witnessed his descent into the Darkness within which she found her strength, she finally understood what it was that she had seen in him. The Darkside of the Force beat strong and true through his veins, just as it did through hers, and it bound them together in a way Voltimas had yet to realize.

So she watched him, her mind skillfuly hidden from him so as not to disturb his meditation, moving about him like a predator moved about its prey, waiting for the moment when he would be ready.

“The Grand Admiral’s vessels seem to be reporting in, Commodore. They’re requesting orders.” The officer sounded sincerely surprised.

“Are they, now.” Theren looked sideways, to Tornel. “Thank god for small mercies.”

“God?”

Theren chuckled slightly, and looked straight ahead. “Fan out in the formation I’d defined earlier; one squadron on each side, a quarter of the system apart. Have their Imperial Star Destroyer join the central group, and have three of the Aegis Star Carriers join each of the groups. Inform Carnor Jax that he may divide the rest of his vessels among the three groups as he pleases, and order all craft not to deploy any more fighters unless explicitly ordered.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a slow, arduous journey through the Bastion system, stressful even with the sound tactics of Theren Gevel’s three-pronged assault plan. All of the support craft for the Star Destroyers were monitored closely, as they combed and swept the system carefully. Some unrest developed on the bridge of the Zenith, as officers onboard the craft began to doubt that there truly was any enemy battle group hidden in the system.

Two hours later, they’d only journeyed one-third of the way through the wreckage, towards the center of the system. “Sentinel shuttle X-Five-Gamma requests a return to the Zenith for restocking and refueling.”

Theren looked at the tactical display for a moment, and then shook his head. “No, we can’t spare them. The left group is coming up on that large concentration of drifting debris, there, and we need sensors feeling it out.”

The communications officer furrowed his brow, turning around slowly. “Sir, they’ve been out there for an hour on two hours’ fuel. If we meet the enemy, they won’t have enough supplies to fight.”

The commodore stared at the officer for a moment. “What’s your name, officer?”

“Arrik Kinev, sir.”

“Did I give you permission to speak, Arrik Kinev?”

“No, sir.”

“There is a certain way you have to go about this, Kinev. If we don’t have every possible advantage, the cover offered by this wreckage could destroy us.” Theren said this with finality.

“With all due respect, sir,”

Theren turned, eyes blazing, towards the man. “Get off of my bridge, officer. You are relieved of your position. We’ll be dropping you off at Coruscant, if I don’t vent your fucking carcass into space before then.”

The man took off his headset and stormed from the bridge. The other officers watched him go, stunned. “I understand,” Theren said, “That you are reluctant to trust a new commodore. But you’ll do it, and if not, one way or another, we’ll be sending you home in a @#%$ matchbox. Question my orders if you must, but if any of you ever question my authority, you’ll share Kinev’s fate.” What Theren didn’t say, was that he regretted ever having been sent on that god-forsaken mission; that command expected him to take on such a gargantuan task with one Star Destroyer and a green, distrustful crew was ridiculous. The situation grew more and more complicated.

“Sir?” One of the officers said, breaking the silence. “Sentinel X-Five-Gamma reports some sort of movement, in the wreckage of a Dreadnaught. It caught a momentary ion trail.”

Theren stared, for a moment. At times, he thought, fate had a way of telling you when you were right. “Have the Left Group light that ship up. Destroy the wreckage altogether; let them know we see them. Do not allow anyone in the Central or Right groups to fire, or I’ll have their heads.”

“Yes, sir.”

Through the viewport, laserfire began to streak across space to the left of the Zenith. The crippled, long-floating hulk of a Dreadnaught Cruiser buckled under the onslaught, exploding repeatedly until it broke apart, a minor explosion erupting from what Theren presumed to be a detonating reactor core.

And out of the fiery blast, came one, small fighter. It was almost imperceptible through the blaze surrounding it, but it was certainly there, fleeing its observation point. “Scan that!” Theren ordered. “Ensure its identity.”

“Its transponder broadcasts no signal, sir. It can’t be one of ours.”

“Wait a moment. Let it transmit the positions of the second group, if that’s what it’s doing.” A moment later, Theren added, “Order Left Group to fire.”

They did so, and the Aegis cruisers and TIE Fighters quickly obliterated the small ship. Theren waited one, tense moment. Then, through the bridge, the wailing of sensor sirens blared, as more unidentified vessels surfaced on the scanners. “We’ve got one, two… four… six enemy Dreadnaughts, sir, and a litany of smaller craft.”

“Have the Crimson vessels in Left Group deploy all fighters!” Theren ordered. “And order them to engage at will. But do not allow Center or Right Groups to fire yet.” The one advantage of the wreckage of the Battle of Bastion was that, while it obscured enemies, it also obscured you from them.

On the tactical display and out the viewport, the Crimson Regime vessels poured out hundreds and hundreds of starfighters, which promptly began exchanging fire with the rebel craft. Most of the rebel ships were between Left and Center Groups; those which weren’t were on the left side of Left Group.

Laser blasts were exchanged both ways, red and green lighting up the viewport of the Zenith. The crew onboard the vessel were silent, waiting; Theren could see uncertainty on some of their faces, signs of their desire to engage the enemy.

Suddenly, from the dead hulks of two Victory Star Destroyers, came an Imperial Star Destroyer – clearly, Theren thought, the senior vessel of the rebel fleet. “That’s it,” He said. “Order all of Center Group to move in and engage the enemy at close range. We have them flanked. Move Right Group into position, just outside the battle perimeter, just out of sight.”

With a great heave, the Imperial Star Destroyer drew itself forward, towards the battle quite a distance away. Slowly, they closed the gap. “All gunners, target enemy craft.” Theren ordered. Slowly, slowly, slowly…

Then, the ring-tone of sensors decrying that their vessels were in range of the enemy. “Deploy fighters and open fire! Have all Left Group fighters accompany our turbolaser barrage with proton torpedoes.” Suddenly, from the hull of the great craft beneath them, green light shot forth; the seven Dreadnaughts in front of them lit up with blue as their shields absorbed the assault of the Zenith, Vengeance, and other craft. One ship’s shields buckled, and laserfire poured into its hull; it detonated, another hulk to join the many which littered the system.

“Cut across to the left, and target that weakened Dreadnaught. Move to engage the Imperial Star Destroyer.” Quickly, the Dreadnaught in question gave way, as well, and they began to open fire on the Imperial Star Destroyer.

Theren smiled, and said, “Send the enemy commander my suggestion of complete surrender.”

A moment later, “Done, sir. The enemy refuses to acknowledge our hail.”

“Order Right Group to enter combat. Engage the Imperial Star Destroyer.” As those ships, too, began to enter the fray, Gevel added, “And re-issue my suggestion. Perhaps they will be more receptive, now.”

“Yes, sir. They’re accepting the hail, and replying.”
A hologram sprang forth over the tactical display. “This is Rear-Admiral Sinveth Xijak, of the New Republic.”

“The New Republic is dead, Admiral,” Theren replied. “I’d suggest you surrender now, and spare the lives of your men.”

“The New Republic will live in forever in the hearts and minds of those who still serve it.” The Admiral grunted. “But for now, you have won this battle.”

“Vice-Admiral Vikar is here to see you, sir.” Tornel said, sticking his head through the hydraulic doors to Theren’s office.

“He’s here?”

“He just flew in, yeah.” Tornel said. “Should I send him in?”

“Of course.”

The gray-haired, kindly looking Admiral stepped from behind Tornel, nodding to him in acknowledgement. Theren stood up in recognition of his superior’s rank. “Please, have a seat, Commodore. I do not wish to trouble you for long, but Command has sent me to get an appraisal of the situation.”

“Yes, sir, of course.” Theren said, taking a seat. “Well, as you’ve seen, we took the system. It was only a matter of a few hours. We encountered vessels claiming to be from the Crimson Rebels – Crimson Regime, they’re calling themselves, now – who were of great assistance. We – ”

“Yes, I read the report, Commodore.” Vikar said, waving a hand. “You don’t need to inform me of the details. That’s really not why I’m here.”

“Oh?”

“Theren, I must say, I’m sorry to have saddled you with this burden. It’s very early in your command, you’re understaffed, undersupplied, and I understand that. And I know that you lost a lot of good friends at Bastion. I hear that you have expressed some displeasure at being placed in this mission.”

“Have you, now.” Theren grunted. “Tornel has been flapping his mouth, I see,”

“Only out of concern, Commodore. I see,” Vikar pulled a rather large datapad from his pocket. “That you’ve been indulging in some interesting reading. The Bible. Imperial Command frowns on this sort of thing, you know.”

“Fuck,” Theren muttered. “I guess Tornel showed you this, too?”

“No, this I found entirely on my own. I have keys to every room on this vessel, you know.” Vikar smiled slightly. “I just did some digging. I’d suspected I might find something like this; your history certainly does present the possibility.”

“Yeah.”

“You faced quite a few difficulties on this mission, Commodore. You were somewhere between forced and pressured into actively fighting alongside an alien – possibly enemy – force, perhaps at the chagrin of the Regent. You were asked to take a system with one vessel, and a crew which barely trusts you. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, Commodore, I’d just like to ask you. You have witnessed quite a lot of rebellion in your time; from what happened to Dantooine to what happened with Tilaric Brel. Yet, you continued, and completed your mission – in a way I must say I find to be quite admirable. Why? Why not simply cop out, or rebel?”

Theren stared at the desk, for a moment, thinking. “One thing I’ve learned from reading that book, Admiral, is that in every creation story, the creation wishes to rebel. It’s instinctive, I guess. Cain, and a million other stories. It’s like that, with the Empire. The rebellion, Tilaric Brel, the others who have turned against the Emperor and Regent; they all turn against their creators. And I suppose you’re right; I was tempted to follow the examples set by them, because it makes you wonder how the Empire can be good, and right, if the things it spawns can become so twisted and evil.”

“Theodicy. So, why did you continue?”

Theren thought a moment more. “I kept telling Tornel that I felt like Job, Admiral. And I guess I did. But I didn’t feel as if turning against the Empire, or resigning, or protesting or refusing the assignment, was ever an option. In all of those stories, Admiral, one thing always turns out the same; no matter how angry the creations get, the God is still God. The Empire is still the Empire. I may be a rat in a cage, but no matter how much I throw myself against the bars, they won’t budge.” He looked up, staring at Vikar. He knew the resentment some in Imperial Command harbored for him; the Vice-Admiral could easily demote or dismiss him, after finding such old religious material.

The Vice-Admiral nodded knowingly, and smiled, the edges of his old, wise eyes crinkling. “That, Commodore Gevel, is the best answer you could have given me.” He nodded. “Good day, then. Hold Bastion for a few days, until you are given new orders.”

Theren looked up. “What about the Bible?”

“Ah, about that. I have been forced to confiscate it, by Imperial military law. However, you’ll find a datapad from my – ah, personal collection in your quarters, to replace it.” Vikar chuckled. “If you get my meaning.”

Later that day, Theren found in his quarters a datapad bearing a different copy of the Bible. He immediately flipped through the electronic pages, until he came to the second half of the book. In it, was a name he’d never seen before, replacing ‘Foretold Annointed’.

‘Christ’.