Saga - OT Remnant. Short Story. Nash Windrider. OCs. Action, Drama, Angst. Written August 9, 2017.

Title: Remnant
Author: Darth Mu
Timeframe: 9 ABY
Characters: Nash Windrider, Rae Sloane, Snoke, OCs
Genre: Action, Drama. Angst.
Keywords: Empire. Origins.
Summary: The Origins of the Imperial Resistance.
Notes: About 6000 words long short story.

The front viewscreen revealed only stars. The Murderer was alone in the system.

Maybe they were early.

Not likely, as Grand Admiral Sloane was a sticker for punctuality. Nash checked his wrist chrono again. Nine hours and five minutes and eighteen seconds from mark. The rendezvous was for Eight hours and thirty minutes exact.

You worry too much, his wife’s voice sounded in Nash’s ear. Relax. Things will happen when they happen.

Right, Nash thought, He walked toward the appropriate consoles and ordered down the crew pit. “Resume scanning and keep the hailing channel open.”

Twin voices from either side of the bridge, down the crew pit, confirmed.

A couple of minutes later, “Still nothing beside the Asteroid CX80, Admiral.”

“Nothing on the subspace, Sir. Will continue observance.”

Nash nodded absently and paced away from communications. He was satisfied with the progress of the current training regimen, and was confident of his officers’ efficiency. If they said there was nothing out there, there was nothing out there.

The Grand Admiral was late. Something has gone wrong with the Imperial Knight demonstration.

Nash never could understand the logic behind the new Imperial Special division. In his mind it was a dilution of true Imperial power. Scarcely something the Empire could afford after Jakku. For some indecipherable reason the Grand Admiral trusted the “Supreme Leader” of the division. He called himself Snoke. What kind of name is Snoke? Nash had never seen the man, of course, but if an old guard Imperial officer such as Nash never heard of him, how important could Snoke be? Where did he come from?

Nash did try to find out. He sent his wife, Movreena Windrider to serve on Grand Admiral’s flagship, not only to answer her call for competent ISB officer after the unfortunate accident befallen Captain Mook, but to find out about more about Snoke.

Nisha and Kebin didn’t want their mother go, and Nash did find himself reluctant. Movr, however, was enthusiastic, moved by loyalty that made Nash himself jealous.

If only we had more like Movr and Ciena Ree, then maybe, just maybe it would be some old Rebel captain waiting to rendezvous with his superior in the middle of nowhere.

Nash shook his head and sighed. It could be a while. He put his index finger behind his right year and activated the audio input from the TIE fighter simulator arena.

Instantly the sound of some ancient space battle filled his ear. In front of Nash, the nothingness of space still pierced his vision.

===

“Good luck, Keb.” Lael winked at him. Kebin was grateful the simulation mesh hid his blush. The sinewy mechanic was already yelling and running for Denis’s simulator when Kebin thought maybe he should shake her hand.

He climbed inside and put the real, clumsy, TIE fighter helmet on top of the simulator mesh. Filtered air filled his nostrils and Keb put on the fighter gloves. He pushed the appropriate buttons on the console, and the simulator came alive. In front of the cockpit, instead of a grey bulkhead, became the shielded launch bay in some kind of installation. Kebin was not in a simulator anymore, but a real TIE fighter, in for a real dogfight, somewhere else. Good.

The intercom crackled, “Death Squadron, this is leader, squadron, check in.”

The leader’s voice was female, heavily accented basic, a far cry from any of Keb’s training mates. Before Keb could try to figure out who was Death One, A bunch of acknowledgement came in, finally some one was yelling, and Kebin wished he would top. She would stop? Death Six, are you there? Death Six? Kebin, you awake? Check in so we can start the simulator run!”

Belatedly Kebin saw that his TIE fighter, his simulator, had a small engraving near the bottom of the front panel, Simulator 6. “Uh, Death Six reporting.”

His father’s voice boomed and filled the cockpit. It was unmistakably the voice of Admiral Windrider himself.

“Stang.” What the kriff? In none of Kebin’s former simulator run had the voice scrambler. What was the point? What battle would they fight today? Kebin thought about this fleetingly, it did not matter.

Kebin positioned his fighter for launch position with thrusters and started the Ion engines. The familiar hum greeted him. In seconds, he knew the whine would start and he would find himself in space.

“Squadron launch! Maintain Kredoon flower formation until we know what we are dealing with.” Death Leader ordered.

Taking flanking position beside Death Five, and being led by death Four, Kebin found himself in sync, the Kredoon would be executed flawlessly. He looked starboard and gasped. By the sound of the intercom, the other members of the squadron was awed as well.

A grotesque grey ball almost ten times bigger than the biggest ship Kebin saw in his ife stared at him accusingly, its gut open. And spewing debris. Seconds later Kebin realized that it was TIE fighters and TIE interceptors. Then it dawned on him, as part of the simulation, his own fighter was launched from what must have been a space station.

“What in the hell is that?” Someone one in Death squadron asked.

“I don’t ... Whatever that is, it’s launching Imperial fighters, so it must be friendly. This must be some kind of escort mission. The installation seems incomplete, stay sharp.” Squadron leader said.

As if on cue, pseudomotions started surrounding everything in sight. Minutes before, the sheer number of TIEs seems to fill the space, but now, it seemed to Kebin, literally every type of ship filled the cockpit, everywhere he looked. He could barely recognize four types. The hated Mon Calamari cruisers, the traitor nebulon B light assault ships, Some rebel troop transports, and Corellian freighters ranging from YT-800 series all the way to the huge gunships. Then there were huge numbers of totally unrecognizable destroyers and freighters.

Then everything exploded.

Unlimited numbers of X-Wings, A-Wings, and B-Wing grew from the debris, and assaulted Kebin’s senses.

“Forget the fancy flowers maneuver, it’s everyone for himself!” screamed Death Four.

“Belay that order! Maintain unit cohesion. Squadron, on me.”

Kebin juked his controls and rolled to starboard to answer the call. At the edge of his vision he saw Death Five following. He wasn’t sure how many enemy fighters were on his tail, but he was sure an A-Wing and his wing man was headed straight to him . He pushed the controls forward repeatedly to unleash some green energy, praying the unaimed shots would save him. One of the A-Wings did explode, the other one unleashed its own energy shot. Kebin felt his whole fighter shake, then his TIE rapidly lost power. Frantically he pushed button likely he trained millions of times before, mere seconds later he knew he was successful in shutting down the starboard engine, therefore saving himself. He knew his fighter didn’t explode because the simulation didn’t end.

Kebin found looked at the controls. Whole swathes of colours were no longer lit and half of the lit ones were yellow. He knew what that meant even before he took the controls again. An entire panel was missing. The A-Wing’s shot must have clipped half of the TIE neatly between the cockpit and the starboard panel connector.

Kebin assessed his situation while he fought the controls to keep the TIE flying. He could transfer all powers from the weapons to the engines or alternatively he could disable the engines to make the weapons more powerful.

Before he could make a decision, blinding heat enveloped him. Green, too much green. Then debris cracked the cockpit.

Kebin was losing pressure in his fighter. He thought about doing nothing, let the simulation end.

Then he would find the mechanic, find Lael, take her hand in his own and ask her for caf. And he’ll be weak and not worhy of being an Imperial officer like her.

Thankfully the simulation hasn’t ended. Kebin gasped for more air and struggled to find the emergency allbrick. He patched the crack. The pressure was restored.

Miraculously, his TIE was still operational. He checked the board only life support and port engine was operational. Weapons were gone. Comms?

He forgot about the comms, he must have shut it down during the oxygen deprivation. He turned on intrasquadron channel.

“Death Leader, anyone?”

No one answered, and Kebin rasised his head, and found out why.

A thing out of legend, what must be a command ship of yore, reeled dangerously and pushed itself against the grey ball that started the mission. Moments later both of them were gone, leaving only...

A shockwave. A shockwave heading straight to Kebin.

He closed his eyes.

===

One minute after listening to the simulation audio, Nash opened the channel to the training bay. The duty officer answered promptly.

“Simulation Bay is running an unauthorized training run. Shut it down.”

“Yes sir, right a way.”

Nash turned to his bridge viewport again. It was ten hours after mark. Something has indeed gone wrong, Nash decided. He walked down the starboard crew pit, and toward the Science officer.

“Ensign Zell, program probe droids and send them to all neighboring systems. I want auto update from them every ten minutes regarding any ships. Anything as small as a snubfighter moves within 10 klicks, I want to know.”

“Yes sir.”

By the time Nash walked back on the bridge walkway, his ear piece beeped.

“Report.”

“Admiral, we are unable to shut down the simulation run in the Bay. Unfortunately the health probe also report that all of the trainees except one is in deep coma. Someone has locked the bay from the inside and activated the blast doors. A Stormtrooper regiment is already trying to cut through either the door or the wall, but due to the material used during the simulation bay’s construction, it would take almost an hour. Yet one of my subordinate, has suggested a most dangerous solution. She suggest to simply cut the power, and the blast doors would open on its own, and the door would take the stormtrooper one minute or so to open. Awaiting your instructions.”

Nash turned his face so that the rest of the bridge crew would not hear. “Cutting the power would be for the entire deck, correct?”
“Yes sir.”

“And on that deck there is the ship wide nursery, yes?”

“Affirmative, Admiral.”

Nash cursed. It was a mistake to construct a nursery on a warship, but the Empire does not have a choice anymore after the horrific accident on Groon II. Nash always suspected sabotage, but he just could not prove anything. After Groon, a majority of officers, including Nash himself, decided that it was probably safer for children of the Empire be on warships rather than planets.

But now, it was obvious the children would not be safe anywhere. He had a saboteur, maybe even more than one, on board Murderer. On the one hand the creme of the Empire, the best TIE fighter class Nash has seen in ten years, and his children, stuck in comas, probably dead. On the other hand the future of the Empire, literally, need power to survive their infanthood or toddlerhood.

“Instruct the Stormtrooper commander that he may order his troops to start cutting the door and wall of the Simulation Bay. Once inside they are to stop any resistance should there be any. Take prisoners, I want them alive. And understand this: the power to the deck will not be cut. The nursery will have power.”

“Captain Kroog?” Nash turned to a man his age. “You will go down to the Simulation Deck and supervise the operation.”

After an affirmative from Kroog, he turned to the communication officer again, “Ensign, please tell Doctor Ephoon to get ready the med bay for emergency patients and possible casualties. Tell her to start emergency triage procedure. Rationing for bacta is lifted for two days.”

“Of course, Admiral.” The ensign hesitated.

“Is there anything else?”

“As part of my double duty as morale officer, I have been monitoring intraship communications. Admiral, most of the crew are wondering if we are going to have to delay the Operation.”

Good question. Snoked promised Grand Admiral Sloane some kind of Force user loyal to the Empire, a battalion of Imperial Knights. That was why Sloane felt comfortable with the Operation. If intelligence could still be believed, a Jedi task force would be leaving Yavin 4 for a backwater planet called Chusan X. Snoke had convinced Sloane that the Empire should ambush the Jedi enroute. Hence the operation. Part destroying the Jedi, part demonstration of the effectiveness and loyal quality of the Imperial Knights.

Nash thought it was crazy. But order were orders. Blast it, where is the Grand Admiral and her fleet?

“No, the Operation will be executed as scheduled.” Nash tried to sound confident.

But he knew there was no way his single picket force would be enough to overwhelm the Jedi. Surely the Jedi would make sure nothing like Outbound Flight incident would happen again. Surely they would have more powerful escort than a single Stardestroyer can handle.

==

When the stormtroopers finally found her, Nisha was drenched in blood. Her bangs she had since childhood were gone, replaced by a long, hideous gash.

The stormtrooper clicked his fingers together, and a pair of medics came forward, and offered Nisha some water in a shallow cup. She sipped and coughed.

“I think, I failed the simulation.”

When consciousness returned to Nisha, she found herself in grey hospital gowns. In front of her, her father was dozing in his Grey admiral’s uniform, sitting in a chair.

“You are awake.” Nisha turned her head. It was Dr. Ephoon, with her kind hazel eyes.

“Kebin?” Nisha found her hands around Dr. Ephoon’s collars. The doctor didn’t seem to mind. Nisha didn’t know why.

“He’s sleeping next door. Had to have surgery to replace both of his kidneys and some part of his liver. Used almost three units of bacta, but he’ll be fine.”

“And Lael? Have they found her?”

“Lael?” Dr. Ephoon looked puzzled. “Who’s that?”

“The mechanic!” The hand that were around Dr. Ephoon’s hands found them around her neck again. “Tell me they found the damned mechanic!”

“I think they found some red haired girl locked inside the men’s shower locker. I released her because she didn’t need any treatm-- Oof!”

“Damn it! She’s the one! KREETLE! DAD! Wake up!”

“Huh?” Nisha’s father woke up, groggy eyed, “What’s going on?” Seconds later, he hugged her, hard.

“There’s no time for this!” Lael Daniv! She did this! She sabotaged the Simulation Bay. She’s completely mad. We need to her quick before she do anything else!

“What are you talking about?” Her dad asked.

“When she was strangling me to unconsciousness, she whispered in my ear. I remember she ranting that she had no choice, that she had to do this, that were all traitors because we retreated from Endor and Jakku. Dad, what is she talking about? What’s Endor? What’s Jakku?”

Her dad’s face was ashen by the time Nisha finished her questions. He stood up very slowly, and walked out the medbay without another word.
Turning her head, Nisha found Dr. Ephoon in a faint on the floor.

She tried to sit up. She had to get out of the stale bed, she had to stop Lael, she had to...

She can’t feel her legs.

===

Kebin slowly opened his eyes, to see large green eyes in his whole vision.

“You are finally awake.” Lael dabbed a wet towel on his forehead.

“I am.” Kebin twisted his body and sat up from the bunk. “What happened? Where am I?”

Lael’s eyes were suddenly full of tears. “It was the Jedi. I’m so sorry. It happened so fast. I had to get to you. They attacked and destroyed the ship while you were in the simulator. I couldn’t do anything to stop the--” She sobbed.

Kebin hugged the mechanic. Her body was so soft and smelled of fresh caf.

Kebin shook his head. He slowly took his hand off Lael, and took in his surroundings. Pale green coloured duracrete. “Where am I?” He repeated.

“I was able to get to medbay and get you,” Lael sniffed, “Then I dragged you toward the nearest escape pod. I honestly don’t remember much, but there was a lot of screaming and there were so much blood and different coloured weapons made of light.”

The mechanic sniffed again, “and your sister, she--”

“What about Nisha?” Kebin asked.

“She tried to fight them,” Lael buried her dainty head in Kebin’s chest and shook. “But they cut her down with their blue light weapons.”

Kebin suddenly felt very empty.

“I think if it weren’t for her,” Lael paused, “we may never have made it. She saved you, Kebin, and saved me. Saved us.”

“What about the ship? The Murderer? My father...”

“I’m so sorry, I saw the ship disintegrate in front of my eyes. If it weren’t for--”

“Ah, you are awake, young master Windrider.”

Kebin regarded the bearded man, he had pale blue eyes like his mother, and very short black hair, not quite a buzz cut. He smiled at Kebin, and Kebin found himself smile back for some unexplained reason, but he felt safe, and a warm sensation filled him, almost enough to fill the terrible hole in his chest. For the briefest moment he thought he should be sad.
“This is Master Snoke.” Lael explained. He is Special advisor to Grand Admiral Sloane. When the Grand Admiral couldn’t make the rendezvous, he used his own private ship to help.

“I’m so sorry. I was too late to save the Murderer. I promise you the Jedi and their puppet master, the Rebel terrorists, will pay.”

“Thank you, Master Snoke.”

“Don’t be so formal, young man, you can call me uncle Luuke.”

===

The colour barely returned to Nash’s face when he reached the bridge. He could not stay one second more in the medbay. Truth be told he was ashamed of retreating the disaster at Endor and the debacle at Jakku. He never considered himself a traitor like Kendy Idele and the others. But maybe, no. No one who obeyed orders can be considered a traitor. Fool! He almost fell for the word of a mad enemy saboteur.

He controlled his breathing, and walked onto the bridge walkway.

“Admiral on deck!” Nash returned the salute and headed down toward the crew pit.

“Anything?”

“Negative, sir. Probes have been sent out. If I may say so, if we do not act according to plan, we will miss the ambush for the Jedi.”

“I am aware.” Nash almost snapped. “Carry on.”

If the ambush is still happening.

Nash made a decision. He can’t stay here near CX-80. He moved to the navigation console.

“Start calculation of lightspeed. Get the Murderer to the edge of the Chusan’s sun.”

“Of course, Admiral. The calculation should be complete within five minutes.”

Nash nodded the same moment his comm beeped.

“Admiral, there was a security breach in the medbay. I’m sorry sir.” A stormtrooper said.

“Was?”

“Nash,” Kroog’s voice was at the other end. “I think you better get down here.”

The body was laid on its back on the metal slab in the morgue.

The medical examination officer nodded as Nash came in.

Death was by asphixiation. Someone put a pillow, probably a pillow from the medbay on top of her head. I’m sorry to say she suffered in her last moments. Terribly.”

“I’m so sorry, Nash. I know Kebin is still missing, and now,” the ME gestured toward the body, “this.”

Per regulations, she will be cremated and buried in space, as we are in hyperspace, however,” the ME shrugged, cremation can wait. Would you like to see her?”

Nash nodded.

The ME slid the sheet back, to reveal the face.

“Good bye, aunt Drea.” Nisha whispered as her father slid his hands across the face to close the eyes of Dr. Ephoon.

===

When she heard the commotion outside, she knew something was wrong.” Nisha sniffed as she took another bite out of her ration bar, and sipped the synth juice.

“She switched dress with me hid under the bed, while she slid under the blankets. That traitor came in and killed her while I... while I... I did nothing.”

“It’s not your fault. You were paralyzed. There was nothing you could have done.” her father said.

“That’s right.” The counsellor said. “Reserve your hatred against the enemy, never at yourself.”

“I want you to say it out loud. There was nothing I could have done. It is not my fault.”

Nisha repeated the words, but she hardly believed them. Her brother, her twin, was missing, maybe even dead. While she sat here, paralyzed from the waist down.

“Good. When you have any doubt, repeat it.” His father said. “Get some rest. The final procedure to restore your legs should be ready by the time we reach Chusan.”

“Drink your meds. Good night, and may the Emperor watch over you.”

Nisha smiled as her father turned off the lights. She drifted off to sleep, and dreamed that a hooded figure gently caressing her.

===

“All hands get ready for sublight.” Kroog said into the shipwide microphone. “Battle stations.”

Muted shade of red shone in the bridge.

“Good. Once we reach the appropriate distance from the sun, restore sensors and viewports.”

By the time they reached Chusan X, the furthermost planet around the star, Nash felt very uncomfortable. Maybe it was because there was no Jedi.
“Analysis?” Kroog ordered.

The science officer replied. “Type 2 planet. Atmosphere is breathable by aliens comfortably. Gravity 1.03 Coruscant standard. Rotation at 40 degrees. 400 Coruscanti days in a planet year and 31 Coruscanti hours in a planet day. Current temperature on planet variable. No human settlement on record.

“No human settlement?” Kroog asked, “how can that be?”

“None on record.” Nash corrected the captain. “When was the last time a planetary survey was performed?”

“Five years.”

“Of course.”

Bring us about geosynchronous orbit. Open hailing channel.

“Hailing channel open, Admiral.”

“This is Admiral Windrider of the Galactic Empire. I declare Chusan X as of this moment, a protectorate of the Empire. Governor of Chusan X, you will pay homage to me, representative of Emperor Palpatine. You will bring the Jedi on your planet to me.”

Four minutes later, the communications officer said, “No response, Admiral.”

“We will see about that.” Kroog turned to Nash. “Standard Operation Procedure, Admiral?”

Nash nodded. No one defy the Empire.

“Bring Turbolaser bank Two and Five online.” Kroog ordered.

Minutes later the Stardestroyer Murderer started to rain death to everything within 400 kilometers of every single river mouth. Nothing at the perimeter of lakes survived.

Yet nothing on the open hailing channel after five whole hours.

“Perhaps nothing really was on the planet. There was no Jedi.”

“Perhaps not. Try to hail The Grand Admiral again. She should at least be out of hyperspace sometime.”

We still cannot raise the Grand Admiral, sir.”

Kroog said, “It’s peculiar for sure, but still not yet of concern. This Operation is labelled silent running after all.”

“But I was able to get someone from the Serial Poisoner.”

Nash and Kroog exchanged glances. One of the Grand Admiral Sloane’s escort ship.

And more importantly...

“Nash! It’s a conspiracy!” Movreena’s usual well arranged coiffure was a dishevelled mess. The hologram in the Murderer’s bridge did not show her wild brown strands, but the wild, almost crazy eyes were available for all to see. “Shut off power to the lifts! If they get in here it’s all over! No shut them all down!” The unmistakable sounds of blaster rifles, stun rays, and some strange hummings came from the hologram. Everything on the Murderer’s bridge stopped. Someone was panting loudly, Nash thought it might be himself.

Minutes later. Movreena, at least Nash thought it may have been Movreen, screamed. Someone whispered. “Any last words?”

The hologram fizzled and only audio came from the mess. “Nash, baby, tell the children the Emperor will always be with them, and that mommy lo-- The strange humming again. Then even the audio went out. Someone vomited everything on the floor. Kroog? Himself? Everyone? All Nash felt was a burn inside his mouth and esophagus.

“No!” Nash half screamed and half croaked. “NO!”

“Incoming!”

With sudden pseudomotions, two Stardestroyer and a single carrier dropped out of hyperspace and into the system.

All of them bore the signs of recent battle. By the horrible damage Nash could see with a glance, they must have lost.

“Captain Kyrell’s Morteo is hailing us.”

Bring him up with the hologram.

Captain Dalven Kyrell’s haggard face locked with Nash’s own. “Nash. Please tell me Grand Admiral Sloane sent you here to guard her secret la-- Oh.”

He promptly cut the transmission.

The Morteo is bringing up her shield and turbolasers. She’s jamming us. She’s scrambling all of her TIE fighter complement.

Nash cursed. He knew the shield and turbolaser of a carrier cannot really hurt his ship, but the TIE fighter and the bombers was another matter entirely.

“Of all the incompetence!” Kroog said. “Bring up our own shield. Get the pilots to their fighters.”

“We are being played.” Nash muttered, “From the beginning.”

“It’s obvious now. But what we can do now? We have no choice but to defend ourselves. I want the turbolasers adjusted. And roll bay four.”

“No we leave.” Nash said. “It’s the only way. I won’t have Imperials fighting Imperials.”

He turned to the Navigations ensign. “Calculate a course, anywhere inside the unknown regions is fine. We can do recalculations later.”

“I had calculation done minutes ago, Admiral, but the Chusan X’s gravity well is preventing us jumping to hyperspace.”

The helmsman interrupted, “I’m trying to get us out from the gravity well, but we will be in weapons range of the Morteo’s TIE bombers in half a minute.”

“Shields.” Nash said. “And hold on.”

===

The medical droid finished the procedure in the nick of time. It put in the final chip, and Nisha felt feelings in her lower portions again. She tried to wiggled her toes, and was rewarded by the feeling of soft grass between her phalanges. She smiled. The medical droid smiled back. It then exploded as it was violently shoved against the med bay duracrete. Nisha was almost crushed by the same impact.

The ship shook violently, and repeatedly. Nisha crawled and stood up, something she wasn’t able to do for a long time. No time for celebration as the intercom came on, and Captain Kroog’s voice reverberated. All pilots to their fighters. All pilots to fighters. This is not a drill.”

Nisha run toward the TIE bay.

“Where do you think you are going?”

A stormtrooper blocked her way. A Blast-Tech rifle pointed at her head.

“I’m a pilot. All pilots to their fighters. That’s me.” Nisha said.

“You are not in your uniform. Let’s see some ID.”

“Oh, you got to be kidding me.” Nisha just realized that she was still in a medical smock. “Stang.”

Look, I’m TC-8718 Lieuenant grade. I’m a certified TIE fighter pilot.”

“And your squadron and call sign?”

“Seriously what is your problem? I need my TIE fighter. I don’t even know your operating number.”

“You could be a saboteur. A saboteur recently killed a bunch of TIE fighters candidates and the ship doctor. I’m taking you in.” Nisha noticed the stormtrooper taking off the safety.

“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice sounded behind Nisha.
Dexi Murth.

The ship shook again. But the stormtrooper held his ground. So did Nisha.

“Dex! Am I glad to see you. Tell this... stormtrooper who I am.” Nisha asked her friend.

“Thank you ensign. I’ll take this prisoner to the brig myself.” Dexi took Nisha roughly by the arm and dragged her away, Nisha was so shocked she forgot to protest. They turned a corner and Dexi immediately released her.

“What the hell? Dexi! What the kriff was that?” Nisha yelled, “And why aren’t you on the bridge?”

“You are not going out there.” Dexi said, “Admiral’s orders.”

“What? Nisha shook her head, “What are you talking about? Did you not feel the ship shaking? We are getting hit, and hard! Captain Kroog is scrambling all fighters. I’m a pilot!”

“What you are is an Imperial soldier, and those hitting the Murderer, Dexi said, “are fellow Imperials.”

Nisha stared at her friend, waiting for flowers to burst from her ears any second.

“I don’t have all the details, but I have specific orders from the Admiral himself. Dexi explained, “we are going to hyperspace as soon as we clear Chusan X’s gravity well, which should be any second.”

“Beside, how were you planning to distinguish friend from foe? You’ll all be piloting TIEs.”

Nisha tried hard to start hyperventilating. “Point.”

The ship underwent the most violent shake yet, and both Nisha and Dexi were thrown bodily from the floor all the way to the ceiling and then the Nisha hit the right side duracrete wall. She felt her head crack. Blackspot started filling her vision, and then red rain, and then Nisha thought the ship may have entered hyperspace. She stopped thinking after that.

===

Nash pushed the steel bar away from his feet. He stood up from his ruined bridge.

The emergency blastwall still held for the cracked viewscreen. The duracrete now painted obscenely with red, scarlet, and magenta. All blood.

“Hello?” Nash called, “anyone else alive?”

He coughed violently, and figured that he had a collapsed lung.

“Over here, sir.”

“Ensign Greyn?” Nash recognized the voice, the helmsman. “Is that you?”

“Aye, Admiral.”

“I think I broke my console with my elbow. I’m sorry sir.” Greyn said, “I’m also stuck.”

“Am I correct in thinking we are still in hyperspace?” Nash asked. A piece of debris, lance shaped, impaled Greyn. Poor kid.

“Yes sir. Of that I am sure. The hyperspace lever is still at the on position.” Greyn’s voice drops to almost a whisper. “What is strange is we should have dropped out of hyperspace a long time ago. Is that not strange, Ad--” Greyn expired.

Taking in his surroundings, Nash decided that he could do nothing in the bridge. He had to get to the auxiliary on the engineering deck.

He tried the lift, but found the door inoperative. His coughs are getting worse as he tried the other door, the one for his ready room. If he could get in there, he could remove the table and reveal the ladder.

The manual door opened with the key he always had in his uniform pocket.

Grunted with effort, ten minutes later, Nash found himself climbing downward. One block down, five hundred and eighteen blocks remaining... Nash hummed to himself, coughing occasionally.


“Are we still in hyperspace?” Lieutenant Mook asked the chief Engineer.

“We’ll find out in a second. Engineer Kaom said, “Hold the light lower, on this pad. Let me see more clearly. Okay, the code should be... Okay. Open.

The door slid open without a sound. Kaom and Mook entered the auxiliary bridge.

It was lit in red, like everywhere else on the ship.

“Something’s wrong.” Kaom said, “I think... Look! I think everyone’s dead.”

“Not everyone, thank the Emperor.” Kaom recognized the voice. The Admiral.

“Di.... dii... did you kill them, aaa ddd Admiral?” Mook stuttered.

Relax, kid. The Admiral coughed, “They were dead for a long time, probably the same saboteur who killed the TIE candidates and killed the Doc. I took us out of hyperspace, but I can’t bring back the power to the computers and steer the ship at the same time.”

“Steer the ship?” Kaom asked. “Oh. Shavit.”

“Indeed.”

“Is that, what I think it is?”

“It’s a pulsar. A neutron star. And we are slowly going toward it. We’ll crash into it in five hours if powers are not restored.” the Admiral warned.

===

Morva Kray knelt in front of Snoke.

“The training is going along according to plan, Supreme Leader. The recruits’ progress is most impressive, thanks to young Windrider. Say what you will, the Empire knew how to bring talent to the fore.”

“Most excellent. Now, I sense you no longer enjoy your Lael Nadiv cover.”

“Lael Nadiv served her purpose.”

“Yet young Windrider’s role in galactic affairs is not yet complete.”

“How might Lael Nadiv further assist our cause?” Morva asked.

“I’ll show you.”

===

Three hours later, power was restored ship wide, and engine one and four were brought online.

Not enough for hyperspace, but quite enough to get away from the Pulsar’s danger.

The nursery and the medbay had the highest casualties, but considering the circumstances, 431 wasn’t a complete disaster.

The disaster came in the form of the fixed holonet receiver.

“Loyal citizens of the Galactic Empire!” It was Snoke.

“I have grave news. Our beloved Grand Admiral Rae Sloane is dead.”

The entire surviving officers and crew in the Murderer mess gasped. She can’t be dead! Nisha thought. She only saw Grand Admiral Sloane once, she had seemed so vibrant, so healthy.

“Murdered! In cold blood!” Nisha could hardly believe her ears. Who would want to hurt her. Could it be the Rebels? But she had the most tight and competent security force.

“Murdered by her most trusted lieutenant. Treason! Most despicable treason!” Nisha found her cheeks wet, outrageous! She cannot wait to avenge the Grand Admiral and bring the Emperor’s justice upon the traitor.

“Nash Windrunner.” A picture of her father. Had Advisor Snoke asked her father to hunt the traitor?

“Nash Windrunner betrayed Admiral Sloane, and killed the last of the Grand Admiral of the Galactic Empire. This is the weapon he used personally to cut her throat two nights ago on Niglugh.” Snoke brandished dagger. “I brand him a bandit and a fugitive! Any loyal citizens of the Galactic Empire has their sacred duty to hunt him down and --.” The holonet broadcaster was destroyed instantly in a hail of blaster fire.

“What the grugging hell was that?” An off duty engineer asked?

“Is he on spice? Does he know what the Admiral did for Sloane? That son of a--”

“The son of a murglak probably killed her himself!” A huge Corellian said.

“Two nights ago? Two nights ago my brother laid dying in a powerless medbay as we were stuck in hypespace!”

“Who the Grugg is a Snoke? Where the hell did he come from anyway?”

Nisha was too shocked to notice that all of the crew left the mess. She was alone.

She knew her father did not murder Rae Sloane. Why would Snoke say such a thing? Surely that would mean...

“Nis, you okay?” Somehow her father was sitting opposite her in the officer’s mess.

“It’s over, isn’t it?” Nisha asked her father, tears in her eyes, “There is no more Galactic Empire.”

Her father took Nisha’s hands with his own. “Snoke is trying to dissolve the Empire, organizing something called a First Order.”

“But the Empire is more than an Emperor, or a Grand Admiral. It’s loyalty. It’s here.” Her father pointed toward his own heart.

“And here.” Nisha brought both of their hands toward her own heart. And we’ll always hunt down terrorists and traitors.”

Her father kissed Nisha’s forehead, where her bangs used to be.

The End.

 

Civil War within the Remnant! This is interesting! Snoke is playing one side off the other to grab power. Nash, still madly loyal to a dead Emperor, seen as as a traitor. This sets up some very interesting possibilities. I can't see him letting this slide.

Only 9 years after Yavin... wheels within wheels while the Republic tries to rebuild and the FO gathers strength, and Nash is a wildcard, perhaps gathering up other Loyalists...

 

Hey Thanks Mistress Renata for reading a whole thing. It's only 5910 words or so. You also took the time to review. I really appreciate it.
Oh Nash would never let what happened slide. He's going to fight down the line. But will he be able to outsmart Snoke?
I really like the set of OCs I introduced. Hopefully later on I will write about them again.
Hm... Yeah I did set this thing on 9 ABY, didn't I? I envisioned Nash's kids as Jaina and Jacen's age... Great, now I have to think really hard about their origins....

Well everyone thanks for reading. Even the lurkers.