Beyond - Legends Losing Sullust (short story; 5ABY Dark Forces / Empire of Ashes / Hour of Judgment tie-in)

Title: Losing Sullust
Author: cthugha (Francesca Pallopides)

Timeframe: 5 ABY
Characters: Ral'Rai Muvunc, Sian Tevv, Siin Suub, Sien Sovv, Sander Delvardus, Shea Hublin, 8t88, Sariss
Genre: short story with some space battles and lots of confusion

Summary: We know that Sullust aligned itself with the New Republic in 4 ABY. We know that Sander Delvardus attacked the New Republic at Sullust in 5 ABY. We also know that Jerec parked his Vengeance above Sullust's moon Sulon somewhere around the same time, where Kyle Katarn was busy punching Imperial goons. So here's the story of how all of this hangs together: a story of an entirely unserious battle in which almost no one is actually trying to win. Can be read as a bonus chapter to Empire of Ashes or as a weird supplement to Dark Forces: Jedi Knight, and ties in with HandofThrawn45's Hour of Judgment, which establishes that Sian Tevv traveled to Sullust around this time. Part of the ReExpanded project to create cohesive new stories in the Legends universe.

~~~~~


Losing Sullust​

Sullust hung low in the sky, looking like a gigantic egg about to crack open and birth fire. Siin Suub watched it with apprehension from the highest tower of a dark lord's castle.

It had been his once, this stubborn globe of ash and fumes and endless warrens – his to rule as the Emperor saw fit. But then, five years ago, the traitor Sian Tevv had unseated him… and now Tevv had given the Rebels control of the planet, while the once-mighty head of SoroSuub was reduced to exile on this moon.

At least his new accommodations were satisfactory. At first, Suub had stayed at the Offworlder Hotel near the spaceport, looking out on the weapons-testing fields surrounding Baron’s Hed. After the Emperor's death, however, with his minions hunting each other down across the galaxy, Suub had been able to convince the Imperial garrison to let him move into the tower left behind by the Inquisitor who had governed this moon for a while. For a blind Miraluka, Jerec had shown fine taste, Suub thought as he turned back into the throne room. The vaulted black ceilings reminded him of the magma chambers of Old Byllurun, and with his pleasure fems lounging on Jerec's pillows all around him, he could almost imagine he was home.

But the illusion only held as long as he kept his back to the planet above. The moment he looked back up, he would see the Rebel ships in orbit – not as many as when the traitors had invited the Rebel fleet here before their assault on Endor, but too many to ignore. Unlike most members of his species, Siin Suub had excellent vision even across larger distances, thanks to surgical augmentations paid for by SoroSuub.

At this moment, he wished he didn't. Then he wouldn't have seen the Rebel ships maneuvering from their stations to blockade Sulon – one angling towards Fuel City, two headed for what looked like Akkalo Station, and five pinpricks forming a pattern up in orbit that Suub knew would allow them to shoot down any ship trying to leave. At least they weren’t directly assaulting Baron’s Hed; they were probably wary of the firepower Jerec had assembled at the Imperial garrison surrounding his castle.

Still, if they landed in force…

One of his fems noticed his agitation and approached him to knead his shoulders. Suub shoved her aside and began to pace. The other fems shrunk back to give him room; they knew better than to annoy him or get in his way.

“I ought to do it,” he muttered to himself, his jowls quivering. “And I will.” He balled a fist and shook it at one of the pitch-black statues Jerec had placed in every corner of this room. “If even one Rebel soldier puts his boot on Sulon's surface, I'll have the aquifers poisoned. I told them.” He had raised his voice, shouting up at the statue now as if it were his enemy. “They come at us, and Sullust starves!”

There was a gasp behind him, a small frightened sound. He turned around to see which of his fems dared to show sympathy with the traitors in this way – but then he saw that Alv, the fem who had tried to massage him, was staring out of the window.

“Master,” she said in a quavering voice, pointing out of the window. “Master, what's this?”

Suub pushed her out of the way – and gasped as well.

It was the Arrow of Sullust, a massive Bulwark-class battlecruiser that had been stolen from Sullust's orbital shipyard by the Rebels two years ago. Its fishlike bow bristled with turbolasers and enough ion cannons to take down an entire city's electrical grid.

It came in low over the horizon, like a predator crouching before it leaped… and it was heading straight for Baron's Hed.

***​

“Attention, people of Sulon,” Sian Tevv spoke into the Arrow’s audio pickup. This being a SoroSuub vessel, the ceiling-mounted communications rig came down to Sullustan height by default, a marked improvement over the Human or Mon Calamari ships Tevv had grown used to over the last year. “The Republic has freed this system, and many others, from the Empire's clutches. Only you, the people of Sulon, are still being held hostage by a few power-hungry Imperials.”

Sian Tevv paused for a moment and looked out through the viewport. The plains of Sulon stretched out before him, divided into huge rectangular fields by a network of irrigation canals. The flat expanse was broken only by the massive taproot trees which brought water up from the moon's underground aquifers – and, further ahead, by the city of Baron’s Hed, a smallish town distinguished only by the bombed-out plains around it and the black tower of Jerec’s castle sticking out from the center of the Imperial garrison.

“Sulon is the life-blood of the Sullust system,” he continued, raising his mousy eyes to the holocam which broadcast his image to every receiver on the moon. “Without the food you grow here – the lichen, the grain, the algae – Sullust dies. And that,” he said, letting some of the anger he was feeling into his voice, “that is what the Imperials have promised. For the sake of their own power, their petty fiefdoms, their illusion of control over you, the good people of Sulon… For those unworthy reasons, they are threatening to poison all of your harvests, dooming all of you – and all of Sullust – to death by starvation.”

The Rebel Alliance and its successor, the Alliance of Free Planets, had bent to their demands for the sake of convenience. As long as the Imperial holdouts kept up their end of the bargain and supplied Sullust with food, Mon Mothma had reasoned, it was easier to let them remain on Sulon than to expend much-needed forces in driving them out. Sian had disagreed – an Imperial stronghold so close to his home planet was a thorn in his side, not to mention a huge security risk – but he'd been overruled again and again.

Until now.

He exchanged a glance with the Twi'lek who stood next to him on the bridge, and waved him closer. The comm rig shifted automatically to accommodate the other’s larger stature as he joined Sian within its field of view.

“This is Ral'Rai Muvunc,” Sian Tevv introduced the Twi'lek, “Minister of Commerce for the New Republic.” The New Republic, which – striving to be a proper government rather than a mere wartime exigency – had finally approved Sian Tevv's mission, and given him the appropriately named Arrow of Sullust to fully pacify the system. “Ral'Rai Muvunc is here to help integrate Sullust into the new galactic economy – an economy of equal partners and mutual aid, rather than of exploitation and extortion.” With a nod up at the Twi'lek, Tevv ceded the floor to him.

Ral'Rai Muvunc looked straight into the holocamera for a few heartbeats before speaking. “I would like,” he said gravely, “to see all of you thrive and prosper. Yes, I mean all of you, even those who still think of yourselves as our enemies. Let me tell you some things I know.” He held up a battle-scarred hand and began counting off his fingers. “I know half of your fields are lying fallow. I can see the weeds, the empty farmsteads and the clogged canals from here.”

Instinctively, Sian Tevv followed his colleague's gesture and looked out through the viewport. His eyes were not acute enough to make out what Muvunc had described; but Tevv had read the recon reports too. “I know,” the Twi'lek continued, “that some of your tap roots are dying because the Imperials used them for target practice. Your beautiful moon is scarred by blaster fire and craters from weapons testing – just as many of you, like me, bear the scars of Imperial caprice.” The top phalanx was missing from his second finger; Tevv knew it had been shot off at Hoth. A third finger joined it, marred by a burn scar from the same battle. “I know that many of your ag droids are standing around as useless lumps, because you lack the spare parts to repair them – let alone the funds to pay for those parts.”

Muvunc paused for a moment to let the reality of their situation sink into the minds of Sulon's populace. Then, tapping each of his fingers in turn, he went on. “The New Republic is prepared to offer credit for repairs and the reclamation of farmland. My friend here, Councilor Sian Tevv, will prevail upon SoroSuub to prioritize building parts for agricultural machinery.” That was a bit of a simplification – SoroSuub was now nominally under control of the reconstituted Sullustan Council, so Tevv would have to first convince the Council to vote in favor of those measures, and then pull strings within SoroSuub to make sure the corporation actually follow the Council’s instructions. But this was not a time for subtle details. “Rich worlds,” Muvunc said, “from Fondor to Druckenwell, are eager to buy any surplus you produce. The Rimma Trade Route is still blocked by the forces of the self-styled Superior General Delvardus – yet another Imperial bent only on personal aggrandizement – but our First Fleet is working day and night to liberate it and restore the free flow of travel and trade.”

That too was true in principle, even though at the moment Admiral Nantz of the First was still busy fortifying Yag’Dhul and Thyferra against Delvardus’s attempts to reclaim them. “We are here to free you,” Muvunc declared. “All of you. Even if, to this moment, you have thought of yourself as a loyal servant of the Empire, we invite you to renounce your servitude and find your own path as a citizen of the New Republic.”

It was a good speech, Sian Tevv thought. Even though he had helped write it, he could feel himself getting swept up in it. But would it sway collaborators like Sin Suub, or hardline Imperial officials like Governor Beeth? He wondered.

“But make no mistake,” Muvunc thundered next to him. “If you prefer to fight rather than yield in peace, we will fight back. If you try to take Sulon and its people hostage, we will hunt you down. And if any of you should try to follow through on your threat to poison the aquifers…”

***​

“... we will spare no resources in capturing you,” the hulking Twi'lek in the hologram said, “and delivering you to the justice of those whose lives and livelihood you have destroyed.”

One of the fems whimpered when Sin Suub shot the hologram projector. The others all recoiled from the sparking machine. The Human standing off to the side of the room, a tall man flanked by two gleaming white stormtroopers, and trailed by a lanky assistant with a datapad, merely frowned. “Ebberen,” he told his assistant, “flag that for replacement, will you?”

“Already done, Governor.”

“Thank you.” The governor stepped up to Siin Suub, ignoring the blaster in the Sullustan's hand. “Mister Suub,” he said, his voice carrying a note of impertinence that would have rankled Suub if he had allowed himself to be rankled in front of his fems. “For the record, I need you to confirm your instructions.”

Suub looked up at the Human. Ever since he'd prevailed upon Governor Beeth to let him live in Jerec's quarters, he'd had a sneaky suspicion that the Human was humoring him. It was the little things, such as calling his orders “instructions,” that gave it away. But Suub had dealt with his species often enough to know that Human males, in particular, had a deep-seated need to feel superior to anyone shorter than them; so he humored the Governor in turn.

“Of course,” he said, nodding at the assistant who was holding out his datapad. “Do you need to take my biometrics too?”

“Verbal confirmation will suffice, sir,” the assistant said. At least this one knew how to show the proper deference.

“Good.” Suub cast a look over his shoulders at the fems, who were watching him breathlessly. They were as good an audience as any for this demonstration of his power. “I, Siin Suub, the rightful head of SoroSuub, currently governing in exile from Sulon after a Rebel coup, hereby order the execution of Operation Denial, to be set into motion as soon as Rebel forces land on the planet.”

“Very good,” the Governor said stiffly. “Now, just to make sure there can be no misunderstanding, would you briefly describe what Operation Denial entails.”

If he'd been Human, Suub would have rolled his eyes at this latest example of Imperial obsession with procedure. “There are canisters of Malastarian fuel positioned at strategic points throughout the aquifer system, which will be released into the water at the touch of a button at the first report of an enemy landfall,” he explained. During his tenure as CEO of SoroSuub, he had smoothened his manner of speech to perfection; now he was promising ecosystem collapse in the same voice he would have used for a product launch in the past. “The fuel will durably sterilize the soil, denaturing most nutrients and releasing toxic gases during decomposition that will reliably kill off any organism smaller than a Sullustan child. There is no antidote, nor any single point of failure. Once the order is given, any Imperial officer on this moon who sees or is notified of a Rebel landing will be able and required to initiate the process. The only way to keep Sulon from being poisoned, then, will be to stay away.”

Governor Beeth exchanged a glance with his assistant, who nodded. “That will be enough,” Beeth said. “Follow me.”

“Who, me?” Suub asked. “Where to?”

But the governor had already turned around and was marching toward the turbolift. His stormtroopers took position on either side of Suub, towering over him in their white carapaces. Suub considered quickly: if he protested, the stormtroopers would easily overpower him in front of his assembled fems. On the other hand, if he went along, he might be able to make it look like they were his honor guard. He decided not to test his luck. “Do not fret; I will be along shortly,” he told his fems, then marched off in step with the troopers, two steps of his own for each Human one.

They were in the downstairs reception hall, where Suub had retreated with his fems the moment he'd recognized the Arrow of Sullust. When the turbolift doors closed and the cabin accelerated upwards, he turned to face Beeth. “Where are we going?”

“Up,” the governor said simply.

“But why?”

Beeth said nothing, keeping his eyes fixed on the turbolift's control board. Moments later the door swooshed open, and the cold air rushing in immediately told Suub that they were on the roof. And not just any roof, but the roof of the tallest tower, the central spire of Jerec's dark citadel.

Compared to most members of his cave-dwelling species, Siin Suub had a remarkable tolerance for height and open spaces – developed over years of targeted exposure training in the service of SoroSuub. Still, the view from this height made him dizzy, and it was all he could do not to grasp for the sleeve of the man next to him, the lanky assistant named Ebberen, and cling to it for dear life.

“Do you hear that?” Governor Beeth asked, walking up to the edge of the roof with an unconcern that made Suub squirm inside. There were no railings, of course; there never were, in Imperial installations.

From far below came a sound like an underground river, or like a rockslide in a huge cavern. For a white-hot moment, Suub thought the Rebels had already landed and were fighting their way through Baron’s Hed; but then he realized the sounds were voices.

“I can't make out the words,” the governor said, turning back to face Siin Suub, “but there sure are a lot of them. I don't think the populace is too fond of your plan.”

Suub's jowls twitched in irritation. Since when did Beeth care what the populace thought? But he made himself walk forward until he was almost next to the governor. Looking around the horizon, he could not see the Arrow of Sullust any more, which came as a relief; but down in the city, masses of people were swarming towards the garrison, screaming and pounding on the walls.

“Don't worry,” Governor Beeth said. “We'll deal with them appropriately. But first we need to get you to safety.”

“Me?” Suub asked, his stomach dropping. “Why me? I thought this place is secure…”

“Because it was you who gave the order,” the governor said patiently. “They all heard you explain it just now.”

Siin Suub's stomach dropped another few levels when he realized what the governor had done. “They are calling your name,” the assistant said, holding out the datapad with which he had recorded and broadcast Suub's clarification of Operation Denial just before. Now the screen showed the view from one of the security cameras outside the garrison, and tinny sounds came from the speakers. “Down with Suub!” a mixed-species mob chanted. “Deny Siin Suub!” Someone had scribbled “Suubhuman” on a board and was waving it into the camera.

“It's for your own safety,” the governor said when a civilian shuttle set down on the roof behind them. More stormtroopers had emerged from the lifts and were forming two lines to either side of the shuttle – and of Suub. “While we'll be able to hold back the mob, I cannot guarantee that there are no elements within this palace or the garrison that disagree with your plan, and might disagree violently.” He nodded at the two stormtroopers who had come up with them. “Take him away.”

“I will get you for this, Beeth,” Suub snarled as the troopers escorted him towards the shuttle. He would not give them the satisfaction of trying to flee or making them drag him there. With two quick steps for each of theirs, he followed them aboard the small, sleek craft.

When they stepped out again, Suub cast a last furious look at Governor Beeth over the edge of the shuttle's ramp; but the Human was already striding back towards the turbolift.

“Wait,” Suub said belatedly when the ramp closed and the shuttle's engines began vibrating. “Wait – my fems! We have to get… we have to save my fems!”

The shuttle lifted off, oblivious to his request. Suub turned and slammed the cockpit access panel, but the door didn't open. Through a spherical window, he could see the pilot, a Human wearing an orange helmet and an unfamiliar uniform who did not seem to notice him. Outside the viewport, Jerec's castle was dwindling beneath them, and Suub thought he could see the garrison's walkers stomping towards the outer walls and the revolting mob.

They would be safe, Siin Suub told himself. The garrison would not be breached. And even the worst Humanocentric Imperials would not harm innocent fems.

Willing himself to be relieved, he raised his eyes skywards to see where the shuttle was taking him. Belatedly it occurred to him that the Rebels would still be blockading the moon. Beeth had said he would get him to safety; but with the system in Rebel hands, where could safety be found?

Suub's stomach, which had almost returned to its proper place during the preceding minutes, made a wild leap down towards Sulon's surface when he recognized the ship that the pilot was heading for. Huge and fish-like, its belly hangar open and outlined in red like a grotesque mouth, the Arrow of Sullust awaited him.

***​

“It's a delaying tactic, of course,” Ral'Rai Muvunc said. “Giving Suub up doesn't mean they won't poison the aquifers.”

“No, but it is a sign of goodwill. Beeth is a hardliner, but he's not stupid; perhaps he has seen the sign of the times.” Sian Tevv watched the shuttle carrying Siin Suub rise towards the Arrow, trying not to feel glee at the prospect of meeting his old rival again in his diminished circumstances. “As soon as Suub is aboard, I want to talk to Beeth again, see if we can hammer out a compromise.”

“You are welcome to try, but I don't think he's in a mood for compromise.” Muvunc waved at the screens, which showed a trio of AT-STs taking position on the walls of the garrison, their guns pointed at the protestors. Someone in the crowd threw a stone, which bounced off a walker's knee and hit another protester. “No, he's trying to buy time… but for what?”

At the sensor station, Lieutenant Olven gasped. “Contacts, sir,” she said, her voice tight. “Coming around Lununmo… They're fast, sir.”

“Tactical,” Tevv said, and the sensor officer sent her data to the main bridge display with the touch of a button. Tevv stared at it for a moment without comprehending: there were Sullust and its moon Sulon, currently on the sunward side; the dashed area signifying navigational hazards had to be the Sululluub asteroid belt… and there, boiling around the north and south of the huge gas giant Lununmo, was a whole fleet of blips of different sizes, their provisional designations updating constantly as the sensors struggled to get a read on them.

“The leading edge appear to be starfighters,” Olven reported. “Twin ion engines… they’re TIEs, sir. TIE interceptors.”

Ral’Rai Muvunc’s lekku twitched, and his lips curled in a snarl. “Imperial reinforcements.”

Sian Tevv took a deep breath. He had accepted command of the Arrow of Sullust on the assumption that this mission would be a show of force followed by negotiations. He’d captained smaller vessels in the past, but he had not expected to be thrust into a pitched fleet battle.

“Lieutenant Olven,” he said, “who is the most senior fleet officer aboard?”

“That would be Colonel Jamiro, sir,” Olven said, indicating the navigator’s station. Jamiro snapped to attention upon hearing his name. “Colonel,” Tevv said, “you will advise me for the duration of this battle. Do not defer to me if you think I’m making a mistake. And comms?” He turned to face the Lyunesi at the communications station. “Get me a secure connection to Captain Sien Sovv. He’s with the First at Yag’Dhul; go through Admiral Nantz if you must.”

Taking another deep breath, he looked back at the tactical holo. It was a full Imperial attack fleet, all right: wave upon wave of starfighters and bombers, followed by at least two Star Destroyers, which were slingshotting around Lununmo at a speed that must be mashing everyone aboard against the bulkheads even with the inertial dampers on full power.

“Take us out,” he said, looking towards Jamiro for confirmation. “The entire blockade. Put us between the attackers and the orbital shipyards.”

“And the shuttle, sir?” the ensign next to Jamiro asked.

“Leave it. Tell the pilot to orbit until we return.”

Jamiro nodded, clapping his callused hands. “You heard the councilor. Let’s go.”

***​

“Lead, Arrow of Sullust is launching starfighters. Permission to engage?”

“Denied, Axe One.” Keeping his gaze fixed on the sensor board of his TIE Interceptor, Shea Hublin appraised the rapidly changing tactical situation in the Sullust system. Looking out the viewscreen would not have done much good: he and the rest of Blade Wing were going much too fast to make out the Rebel forces streaking past as anything more than momentary smears of light. “Our orders are to clear Sulon’s orbit.”

“Sulon’s orbit looks pretty clear, sir.”

Hublin sighed. When he had signed back on with Superior General Delvardus’ forces after deserting him over the Superior General’s abortive plan to attack Imperial Center, he’d known that some of his fellow soldiers would question his motives. Trust and respect are hard to regain once broken, he thought, squinting out of his cockpit on either side to count the running lights of his fighter wing. Flight Lieutenant Breston-Kay, now flying as Axe One, had barely escaped a court-martial for insubordination after calling Hublin a traitor in the officer’s mess of Delvardus’ flagship Brilliant. Hublin had decided to give him a chance anyway, putting him in command of Axe Flight; but apparently Breston-Kay was not taking the gesture the way it was intended.

“These orders are straight from the Superior General, Axe One,” he spoke into his helmet microphone with strained patience. “We are to deny Sulon’s airspace and make sure that not a single Rebel ship can touch down on the moon.”

“Why?” Breston-Kay said, still combative. “Nothing down there but fields. Why aren’t we attacking the shipyards with the others?”

Hublin knew why: because the governor of Sulon had told Delvardus that Sulon’s water supply would be poisoned the moment the Rebels attempted a landing. But that was classified information, and Breston-Kay needed to be put in this place. “Your protest is noted, Axe One,” he said evenly. “I’m sending a recording of our conversation up to Brilliant. From now on, please keep the comm lines clear.” He switched to the general squadron frequency. “Blade Wing, we're coming up on Sulon. You've each been assigned an orbit; your orders are to prevent any landings, but confirm with your squadron commander before making a kill.” He paused for a moment while Sulon grew from a marble to twice the size of a smashball in his viewport. “Except Axe Squadron,” he added with a sideways glance in the direction of Breston-Kay's fighter. “You confirm with me.”

***​

Siin Suub yelled and slapped the viewport with his fists. When the shuttle’s pilot kept ignoring him, he looked around for something hard and not tied down. The shuttle’s passenger section was small and empty, with two hard benches built into the wall, crash webbing hanging from them, and the ramp at the back. But next to the ramp was a small hatch with emergency signage; when Suub tugged at it, it opened to reveal two vacuum suits – and two air bottles.

Grabbing one of the bottles, Suub turned back towards the cockpit door – and stumbled in midstep when the shuttle suddenly bucked and groaned. Holding on to the wall with his free hand, Suub staggered to the door and rose on tiptoes to look through the inset window.

It was spattered with droplets of blood. The pilot hung in his seat, slumped sideways, the back half of his head missing. Cracks radiated outward from a hole in the front viewport, and the sky outside was on fire.

Siin Suub screamed. As if in response to his scream, the door in front of him clicked open, swooshed aside, and he was sucked bodily into the cockpit.

As the head of SoroSuub, he had traveled between Sullust, Sulon, and the orbital shipyards a lot. Because of this, he had gone through numerous depressurization drills in his time. Not that he ever felt he needed them – SoroSuub ships were renowned for their reliability and their autonomous fail-safe systems – but it was his duty to go along with them, to set an example of proper procedure.

Now, in his old age, those drills were what saved him. He grabbed hold of the crash webbing in the empty copilot’s seat, pulled the pack of emergency putty off the wall next to the viewport – even Rebel ships, it seemed, followed some basic safety rules – and threw it in the general direction of the leak. The putty expanded in flight, slammed against the hole with enough force to make the transparisteel viewpane shudder, then hardened instantly.

Siin Suub’s ears popped and his vision swam, but he held on to consciousness with stubborn determination. There had to be a button to transfer control to the copilot’s station – no, it was a lever, there. He pulled on the yoke, not caring where he went except up and out of the atmosphere that licked at the ship. When the shuttle’s nose lifted and he felt himself pressed down into the seat, the next thing he looked for were the comms.

He found the comm board just as another shot, even brighter than the flames outside, grazed the nose of the shuttle and rocked it under him. Punching the buttons harder than necessary, Suub opened what he hoped was a general frequency. “Stop shooting at me!” he yelled. “This is Siin Suub of SoroSuub Corporation! The Rebels are shooting at me! Governor Beeth lured me onto this shuttle, the small Rebel one with the hole in the viewport, and they're trying to shoot me down! I repeat, I'm Siin Suub, a civilian! I am the rightful CEO of SoroSuub! Governor Beeth is a traitor! If you're hearing this, execute Operation Denial now…”

During the last words, the comm board had begun to crackle – probably due to atmospheric interference on the edge of space, Suub thought. At least the shooting had stopped for the moment. The viewport cleared, the flames receding as the shuttle made orbit. And coming alongside him, its angled wings glinting in the light of Sullust's sun, was a TIE Interceptor.

The crackling ceased and was replaced by a smooth Human voice. “Siin Suub, confirm you're alone in that shuttle,” it said.

“They shot my pilot! Thank the Mothers you're here.” Suub craned his neck, looking for his attackers, but all he could see were two more TIE Interceptors flanking him. A cold suspicion stabbed at his heart. “Um, you're not… did Beeth send you? I didn't mean to…”

“Is there anyone else aboard, Mister Suub?” the voice said, unperturbed by his stammering.

“Uh, no. No, there was just the pilot.” Suub glanced left at the body and immediately wished he hadn't. “Um, I don't know to what extent this ship is damaged, the alarms seem to be down…”

“Try to steer to a heading of one-nine-six.” The heading appeared on the comm screen, and Suub – working slowly, not trusting his trembling fingers – transferred them to the navigation console. The ship pitched slightly forward, yawed to the right, then leveled out. “Is that, was that…”

“Good. Mister Suub, you're in a stable orbit now. Do not, under any circumstances, attempt a landing; you would not survive. This system is currently a battle zone; I'll have someone retrieve you once we've won. Blade Leader out.”

“Thank you,” Suub said, but the comm had already gone silent. “Thank you,” he said again, peering out of the damaged viewport as a sudden, fierce hope blossomed within him. Once we've won, the TIE pilot had said. Which meant the Empire was there in force, to kill the Rebels and retake the Sullust system. Which, in turn, meant that Sullust would be his again. SoroSuub would be his again. With any luck, the Imperials would capture Sian Tevv, so the cowardly grub could be made to watch and suffer as Siin Suub was restored to his rightful place…

***​

“Blade Wing, confirm the orbit’s clear,” Shea Hublin said. As the confirmations clicked in, he gently pulled back on the throttle to fall in behind the shuttle carrying the exiled Sullustan. Aiming carefully, he shot away the vessel’s comm antenna, then placed a precise low-energy shot on the fuel lines between the shuttle’s drives. He imagined the Sullustan shrieking with outrage inside it, but his feelings hardly mattered. Checking that the shuttle was still in a stable ballistic orbit, Hublin peeled away from it.

“Axe One, you stay on the shuttle,” he said over the squadron frequency. “If Suub tries anything, vape him. No debates.” Not that the Sullustan was likely to put up a fight without comms or functioning drives. “Everyone else, form up on me. We’re going to reinforce Brilliant at the shipyards.”

The fight, when they finally joined it minutes later, was fiercer than anticipated. The Rebels had brought multiple unfinished vessels from the orbital shipyards into the fight, which were hurling themselves against the Imperial lines with the same reckless fanaticism he remembered from Vale. Why anyone would be so eager to throw their life away for the sake of anarchy, Hublin couldn't understand; but he had spent a lifetime weeding out agents of chaos, from the Separatists to Rebels and Nagai invaders, and so he was more than happy to grant them their wish.

Orders came in from Brilliant, and Hublin translated them into concrete assignments for his squadrons. “Knife Squad and Dagger Squad keep those starfighters off Brilliant’s flank; Knife to her starboard, Dagger to her port. Sword Squad, you clear a path ahead of her along the heading I’m sending to you. Scissor and Axe, mark the two Liberators heading in on an intercept course. The big ones that look like oversized Decimators.” He tapped the icons on his tactical display and sent them over to the two squadrons. “Let’s go discourage them.”

As he sped in towards the enemy, Hublin realized that the path he'd been ordered to clear would take Brilliant out of the battle and away from where it could do any damage to the orbital shipyards. He frowned, but then decided not to put in a request for clarification. Unlike Flight Officer Breston-Kay, he knew his role was to fight, not to second-guess strategy.

Then turbolasers flashed across his bow, and there was no more time to think.

***​

“Looks like he's fleeing,” Sian Tevv said, squinting at the enemy flagship. “Should we let him?”

Colonel Jamiro reached into the holographic representation of the battle and amplified the fight around the orbital shipyards. “If he's fleeing, he is leaving the rest of his fleet behind,” he said. “I don't know much about Delvardus, but I didn't think he was that kind of coward.”

“He is not,” Ral'Rai Muvunc growled. Stepping forward, the Twi'lek changed the holographic view again, so that the ships and the orbital shipyards were shown against the backdrop of the planet Sullust. “He is maneuvering… towards Mount Sarrano, here.”

Sian Tevv's ears flattened against his skull. The dormant volcanic peak of Mount Sarrano was home to one of the few surface-level cities on Sullust, sprawling and prosperous Serres Sarrano… and to the Sarrano Yards, SoroSuub's largest planetary shipyard.

“Comms, contact Serres Sarrano, open band,” Tevv said. “Tell them to raise all shields and start evacuations; expect orbital bombardment in approximately…”

“Ninety seconds,” Jamiro supplied. “Assuming it's indiscriminate.”

“Ensign, take us in. Jamiro, reorganize the fleet; stopping Brilliant is now our main priority.” While the Sarrano Yards produced mostly small and mid-sized vessels, their total output – and their importance to Sullust's economy and the war effort – dwarfed that of the orbital shipyards. And the loss of civilian life if Delvardus should order a full bombardment of the city…

“Transmission from Brilliant, sir,” Lieutenant Nar Werrum reported. “It's Delvardus himself.”

Tevv and Muvunc exchanged a glance. “Put me on,” Tevv said, stepping in front of the holo rig. “Identify me as Muvunc.” It was a trick they had pulled before, for obfuscation: usually it was his assistant Dian Neva who pretended to be Muvunc in communications likely to be intercepted by the Empire, but Tevv assumed Delvardus would not be able to tell one Sullustan from the other.

“Republic forces,” Delvardus said as his harsh, haggard face was projected in miniature by the comm rig. “If you do not break off your attack and begin a withdrawal within sixty seconds, I will order a Base Delta Zero on Sarrano City.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the holorecorder on his side. “I will assume you know what a Base Delta Zero is.”

At the edge of Sian Tevv's field of vision, the real Ral'Rai Muvunc frowned. “More dramatic than usual,” he mouthed. Next to him, Jamiro held up five fingers and a fist: fifty seconds.

“I've heard this kind of threat before, today,” Tevv said. “The population of Sulon already knows the Emperor is bent on nothing but their destruction. Now the population of Sullust knows the same. If you bombard the city, killing millions of innocent civilians, it will only be more proof to the galaxy that your Empire needs to go.”

Jamiro made a cross-wise gesture with two fingers and then counted out seventy: they would be in firing range of Brilliant a little over twenty seconds after the start of the bombardment.

Sian Tevv swallowed. Twenty seconds would be enough to overwhelm Serres Sarrano's civilian-grade shields and cause untold damage… and it was unlikely that Brilliant would stop firing the moment they came under attack.

Delvardus’ tiny holo sneered. “Unlike you Rebels, I don't care about public perception,” he said. “I do what is best for the Empire and for Eriadu. Sullust is ours, whether you let us take it whole or whether we need to knock down some cities before you've had enough. – Ten seconds. All ventral turbolaser batteries, on my mark.”

Jamiro, pale-faced, counted down on his fingers. Muvunc was fiddling with the tactical map again. Horrified, Tevv gripped the handholds on the comm rig. “Wait,” he ground out. “Delvardus, wait. I'll give the order.”

“Reverse course and power down your weapons,” Delvardus said. “Five.”

Tevv's throat was dry and tight; it ached, forcing the words out. “Helm, reverse…”

Then the holo of the Superior General jumped, and a gasp of surprise sounded from the sensor station. “Something just hit her,” Lieutenant Olven said. “Brilliant, sir. Something just hit her from below.”

The holographic image rocked again, and Tevv turned his head to look at the tactical view that Muvunc had pulled up. Scores of small ships were rising from Serres Sarrano and the shipyards next to it, some of them vectoring away, but most of them coming straight at the Star Destroyer's belly. They were followed, then quickly overtaken by a cloud of smaller blips whose meaning confused Tevv – until he saw fire spilling along Brilliant's hastily activated dorsal shields and realized they must be volleys of torpedos.

“Firing range, sir,” Jamiro said. “Anything you would like to tell the Superior General before we pound him to dust?”

“No.” Tevv cut the transmission. “Fire.”

***​

Some of the ships were Home Guard, most were civilian, and quite a few belonged to smugglers profiting from the current uncertainty in Sullust's supply chains. They launched themselves towards Brilliant, painting the Star Destroyer's white belly with targeting lasers, then veered away as the next volley of surface-launched torpedos roared past them towards the coordinates provided by the ships.

When Brilliant’s turbolasers began firing, reduced in number by the unexpected first round of impacts, only a few of their shots reached the planetary surface. The gunners had designated the ships and the torpedos as their primary targets, carving swathes to the latter and quickly overwhelming the shields of the former if they didn't veer away in time. Most of the ships were empty, running on hastily-programmed autopilot or remote-controlled from the surface; SoroSuub had pledged to pay double the market value to the owners for each ship lost this way.

Within a minute of the double bombardment from the surface and the Arrow of Sullust above, Brilliant began to maneuver out of orbit.

***​

In Baron's Hed, hordes of sentients swarmed the walls of the Imperial garrison. They were scaling the walls, besieging the entrances, and causing property damage using civilian blasters and whatever tools they had available. Every once in a while, one of the garrison's three AT-STs fired into the crowd, vaporizing some of the protesters; but they learned quickly to keep clear of the walkers’ fields of fire, and the metal beasts were not nimble enough to follow their frantic movements.

Watching from the dark tower, Governor Beeth had enough. “Bring out the bombers,” he ordered. He was reluctant to level the city for which he was responsible; but order was more important than infrastructure. Insurgents needed to be put down, at any cost. “Impact munitions, to be laid down in a circle just far enough outside the garrison that they don't damage our walls. Have the walkers step back for the duration.”

His assistant looked up at him, tilting his datapad with a sly smile. “Confirm you want the rabble ground to paste, sir?”

“Confirmed.” Beeth rolled his eyes. “Let's go inside.”

***​

In orbit around Sulon, Siin Suub ground his teeth. He could see things going on in the distance: flashes of light before the dark background of Sullust, green turbolaser fire and the hot red of explosions. But he had no way of telling who was winning, no way to either go there or get away if things went bad. He could do nothing except circle Sulon in a broken ship, waiting for the atmosphere to leak out through the cracks in the viewport.

***​

“Call the fleet,” Delvardus told Captain Cronus. “All starfighters return to base; we make an orderly retreat towards Lununmo. Navigation, find a place for a deep-space regroup counterspinwards, in the direction of Sanrafsix, and start plotting a course.”

Outside, more torpedos were splashing their fiery payloads against Brilliant’s shields; then a small vessel joined them, crashing against the bow shields with such force that electrical stress lines spidered across their curve. Those Rebels really were crazy, Delvardus thought; but right now, their suicidal fury served him well. After all, a provocation followed by a hasty but justifiable retreat had been the point of this engagement all along.

Then a new icon appeared in the tactical display, and a collective intake of breath across the bridge drew Delvardus’ eyes to the viewport. “Uh, reporting as friendly, sir,” the sensor officer said, his voice tight. “It's almost twenty klicks, but not wide enough to be an Executor-class…”

Delvardus saw it just before the massive ship's transponders announced its official designation. “It's the Vengeance,” he said. “Jerec is back.”

***​

Five orbits later, day had come to the big globe of Sullust above. Siin Suub calmed his nerves by calculating in his head the approximate speed of his rotation around Sulon, and deriving the duration of Sulon’s orbit around Sullust from the timing of the lava tides he remembered observing in the caves below Byllurun. Daylight made moisture rise out from the cracks of Sullust’s tortured surface, which mixed with the noxious volcanic fumes to look like harmless clouds. They were anything but, Suub knew: ships passed through Sullust’s atmosphere almost exclusively on the night side, because the fumes mixed with water vapor built up massive electrical charges that could fry any ship trying to brave the daylight skies.

Suub was watching the terminator crawl over the Slime Sea when a dark arrow pierced Sullust’s brightening face. Not the Arrow of Sullust, which despite its name had a pleasantly rounded shape, but a pointy, triangular thing that awakened old and unpleasant memories inside Siin Suub…

Years ago, at the height of the Empire’s power, the Emperor had made Sulon a gift for one of his lackeys. Siin Suub remembered the memo from Imperial Center, grandiose and unapologetic in its tone: Sulon was now the property of one Jerec; recognition codes for him and his various minions were to be passed out to the Home Guard and the garrison; SoroSuub would retain use of its weapons testing sites on a provisional basis, subject to the approval of Lord Jerec.

He had been aboard Jerec’s Vengeance once before, expecting to negotiate mutual rights and responsibilities, only to be dismissed by a servant of Jerec’s. It had not been a pleasant experience; everything about the ship, the servant, and the general atmosphere had made Suub’s skin crawl.

Yet as the Vengeance crept closer, blocking out much of Sullust’s blue-white daylight atmosphere, Suub found himself staring at it with longing. Could they see him? And if they could, would they realize his distress and save him?

He had one mode of communication left, Suub realized as he looked around himself with renewed urgency. His comm antenna had been shot, but he could still turn the cockpit lights on and off.

Staring up at the Vengeance, he turned them off, then on again. He waited for the space of two heartbeats and turned them off. Four heartbeats, on. Two, off. Two, on.

It was an ancient code, once widespread for sending binary instructions to droids, but now mostly restricted to the Sullust system: farmers on Sulon used it for simple, low-fidelity communication via flashes or clicks, and in the warrens of Sullust it was a common way of talking around corners. As far as Siin Suub was aware, most Imperials were ignorant of it; he could only hope that Jerec or someone aboard his ship had spent enough time on Sulon to recognize it.

It was a slim hope, but Suub kept counting and mashing the button. S-I-I-N-S-U-U-B, I-N-O-R-B-I-T, S-H-U-T-T-L-E-D-A-M-A-G-E-D, H-E-L-P.

His heart leapt, throwing off his rhythm, when the shuttle rocked, shuddered, and began to move. By now the black mass of Vengeance had eaten Sullust whole, and he could spot the faint twinkle of running lights along her flank. And there, where he was heading, slowly but surely rising up as if in the arms of a giant savior, was the warm orange light of an opening docking bay.

“Oh, thank you, Jerec,” Siin Suub sighed, sagging over the useless controls of the shuttle. “I love you.”

***​

“I got your transmission just in time,” Captain Sien Sovv said over the holo. His ship, the Dauntless-class cruiser Rockrender, hung to Arrow of Sullust’s starboard, its curved hull reflecting the distant light of Sullust’s sun. “One minute later and we would have reverted right on top of that monster.”

Tevv had ordered five reconnaissance ships to stay behind while the rest of his small fleet jumped to safety: three uncrewed and automatic, and two crewed by volunteers. So far, Delvardus and whoever commanded the giant ship had only managed to find and destroy one of them, a robotic vessel that had gotten too close to the black behemoth in an effort to measure its proportions. It was nineteen kilometers long, its last transmission had revealed – as long as the Executor, but slimmer.

“Analysiss iss through,” a Drackmarian ensign reported. “Reportss from Bortrass and Dorlo have it as the Vengeance, an Imperial dreadnought of unknown sspecificationss.”

Sovv and Tevv exchanged a glance via the holocomm. “We’ve heard rumors of it,” Sovv said. “In the Home Guard.”

“But never anything solid,” Tevv confirmed. “I tried to pin it down once, get my hands on a recording or transponder reading, but it was all gone.”

“Imperial Intelligence,” Ral’Rai Muvunc said darkly.

“Or something.” Tevv glowered at the images sent back by the recon ships. “So we get something solid now.”

Muvunc’s lekku twitched. “Meaning?”

“Meaning we move in to engage.”

Colonel Jamiro cleared his throat. “Uh, sir, I don’t really see us having a chance against that.”

“Not on our own,” Sovv said thoughtfully. “But with an opportunity like this… And the situation is different now. Admiral Nantz was reluctant to let me go, because he assumed Delvardus would be trying to take back Yag’Dhul. Now that he’s here, and with a capital ship like this too…”

“You’re thinking of bringing the First Fleet here,” Muvunc said.

“Most of it, yes. If Nantz agrees.”

“But that will take time.”

“I will put in the call right now. With your permission, Sian?”

Sian Tevv looked at Colonel Jamiro, then at Muvunc, then back at his friend Sien Sovv. “Do it.”

Sovv’s hologram winked out. Murmurs were starting on the bridge, so Tevv waved the others into the command privacy booth at the back of the room. “If we commit to this,” Muvunc said the moment the door swooshed shut behind them, “it means we will have to keep them pinned here until Nantz arrives.”

“We have no idea what they’re capable of,” Jamiro said. “How can we keep them pinned if…”

“The Peregrine.” On his datapad, Tevv called up the list of ships Sien Sovv had brought with him. It was a small group: one starfighter carrier with two squadrons of X-wings and one of A-wing bombers; the Soothfast, a light cruiser that bore the marks of a hasty repair; and Peregrine, an unwieldy hulk of a ship with a conspicuous cross shape and white armor plating. “She used to be a Strike-class cruiser, but they outfitted her with gravity well generators from an Imperial Interdictor cruiser years ago. If she stays out of Vengeance’s firing range…”

“We don’t know Vengeance’s firing range,” Jamiro pointed out.

“So we’re going to find it out. What I’m proposing is stinger attacks: quick sorties against Vengeance from random directions, in and out, to test her capabilities. We go in with Peregrine and the Puck” – he indicated the triangular starfighter carrier on his screen – “while Sovv keeps Delvardus off our backs with Rockrender and Soothfast. We try to avoid full ship-to-ship engagements for as long as we can, while making sure that Peregrine stays close enough to Vengeance. By the time Nantz gets here with the rest of the First, we’ll know what Vengeance is capable of, we’ll have the enemy distracted, and we might even have dealt him some damage, if the opportunity arises.”

Jamiro and Muvunc chewed on this for a moment, then Jamiro said, “I'm not happy with this.”

“Noted, Colonel,” Tevv said. “Nevertheless, I'm giving you the bridge.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“I'm a civilian at heart, Colonel. And while I think we did our double act well earlier, considering the circumstances, that arrangement won't do for an engagement like the one I will suggest to Captain Sovv. I'm officially surrendering command and making you brevet captain; and once this is done I will put in a word with Fleet Command to make that permanent.”

Jamiro pulled a face. “You're trying to bribe me?”

“I'm giving you the authority that you'll need to keep this ship safe where we're heading.”

“And bribing you,” Muvunc added.

Jamiro snorted, but his expression remained skeptical. “Captain Sovv will be commanding?”

“Until Admiral Nantz arrives, yes,” Tevv said. “We served together in the Home Guard; he's a very capable commander.”

“If Nantz comes,” Muvunc cautioned. “If he doesn't…”

Tevv's datapad chimed, and he grinned as he showed the screen around. “He's packing up the fleet at Yag'Dhul as we speak. Now, Ral'Rai, would you mind giving the bridge the news about our brevet captain's field promotion? I need to talk some things over with my friend…”

***​

Siin Suub was still shivering, with a cold so deep he felt it in the marrow of his bones, when he was riding safely down through Sulon's atmosphere aboard a gleaming new Imperial Lambda-class shuttle. If his previous visit to the Vengeance had been eerie, this time had been terrifying. He could guess now why Jerec's servants hadn't let him see the man himself last time: because he was a freak, bald and tattooed and eyeless, with a snakelike demeanor that had made Suub think he was going to bite his head off at the slightest provocation.

Suub's head was still on his shoulders, he reassured himself as the reentry flames licking at the shuttle receded. But it had been violated from the inside, in a way he could not understand. It was as if Jerec had reached into his mind with icy fingers and squeezed, letting everything Siin Suub knew and thought and feared bubble out through his mouth.

He almost cried with relief when the woman had taken him away on Jerec's orders, walking him down to the shuttle bay in the company of two stormtroopers. Now she was sitting next to him, behind the pilot and copilot, and regarded him quizzically. “Your fems, huh?” she said.

Suub might have said something about them earlier, he supposed, though he could not remember. “They're still down there,” he said, hating how scratchy and plaintive his voice sounded. “And I don't trust the governor.”

“I don't think you need to worry about the governor,” the woman said, and her sly smile drove a fresh stab of cold into Suub's heart. “I was wondering, though. I thought females were so rare on Sullust that each of them took multiple husbands, not the other way around?”

Suub nodded. “Yes, but important males… important figures like myself… we attract more than our share.”

“Ah.” The woman smiled again, showing her shiny human teeth. “Attract, is it? What better way to flaunt your status than to hog the most precious commodity on the planet. – Though I cannot help noticing you are not on the planet. Are you planning to take your fems back to Sullust once you retrieve them?”

That made Siin Suub perk up. He had planned to demand from Jerec – and if that should fail, to plead with him – that he be restored as head of SoroSuub now that the Empire had retaken the system. Once in the presence of the man, he had forgotten all about it. Swallowing to moisten his larynx, he straightened in the oversized passenger seat. “I am, in fact,” he said. “Forgive me, I must have missed your name.”

“I am Sariss,” the woman said.

“Lady Sariss.” Humans were easily impressed by adding on titles like that, in Suub’s experience. “I would be very grateful if you could… remind Lord Jerec, at your convenience, that I, Siin Suub, am still the rightful head of SoroSuub, the loyal head of SoroSuub, even though I was driven off the planet by Rebel-aligned factions.” He stopped himself before his eagerness became too obvious. “If you help me regain my post,” he said instead, aloof, “I could show my gratitude in a number of ways, of course.”

“Such as by making me one of your fems?” Sariss said sweetly.

Suub’s jowls quivered in surprise. “I mean,” he managed, “it is rare, but not unheard of…”

“Lady Sariss,” the pilot said, “garrison control says to land on the tower. Do we comply?”

Sariss leaned forward to peer out. “Where did you put down the droid and its pet?”

“Down below, on that circular platform there, Madam.”

“Then put me on the tower. Us, I mean.” She gave Suub a smile, but he avoided her unsettling gaze by staring out the viewport. Baron's Knoll, the small hill on which the garrison was located, was now surrounded by a ring of smoking rubble, and the protesting masses from before were nowhere to be seen.

When the shuttle's landing ramp came down and they stepped out onto that dreadful roof again, the city was silent except for the wind, which carried the smells of burned electronics, scorched flesh, and superheated duracrete. Siin Suub quickly closed his nostrils from the inside, but his stomach roiled anyway. Then a terrified shriek rang out across the city, followed by a blaster shot, and Siin Suub lost the meager contents of his stomach to the wind.

***​

“Axe One, reporting for duty,” Breston-Kay's voice came over Shea Hublin's speakers on a private channel. “And I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, sir. I realize I was out of line.”

“You were.” Apparently a few dozen orbits around Sulon had done him good, Hublin reasoned. “Make sure to keep your focus on the battle now. And Flight Officer, if you have legitimate questions relevant to the engagement, do not hesitate to ask them on this channel.” Hublin, too, had found time to think since the arrival of the Vengeance had temporarily driven the Rebels from the system; and with the convoluted way the situation was unfolding, he had to admit that a critical voice might prove useful.

Breston-Kay clicked acknowledgement, and Hublin switched back to the squadron frequency. “New orders,” he said. “When the Rebels return, we stop them from approaching Vengeance. I’ll assign each squadron an enemy element, and you’re to form a fighter screen to head them off. Engage at will, but our priority is to make them keep their distance.”

A light signaled a comm request, and Hublin patched it in. “Sword Leader,” the speaker identified himself. “Will the Vengeance be shooting at them?”

“Negative, Sword Leader. Keep your backs towards Vengeance; she’ll hold her fire. Our job is to make it unnecessary for her to fire. Brilliant, Hammer and Thunderstruck will tie them up and chase them off where possible, but we make sure nobody gets too close.”

There was another comm request, this one private. “Axe One,” Breston-Kay said. “Sorry again, but are we sure the Rebels will come back? They’d be crazy to go up against Vengeance.”

“They might be. Thank you, Axe One.” Hublin switched channels again. “Based on the movement of their recon drones, which have been maneuvering to get wide angles on Vengeance from multiple directions, we assume the Rebels will return momentarily to try and probe Vengeance’s defenses and gauge her capabilities. Most likely they… hold.” Something flickered at the edge of his vision, and then his sensor board lit up with contacts. “There they are.” The enemy had reverted directly above Vengeance and was already breaking into groups of two or three capital ships, each surrounded by a small fighter screen. “Brilliant is sending designations for the enemy battle groups. Knife takes group one, Dagger group two, Sword and Axe, three.” The third Rebel group was the one containing Arrow of Sullust and a triangular Quasar Fire-class bulk cruiser. “Scissor Squad, punch your engines; we’re on four.” Four was a strangely lumpy medium cruiser defended by a small contingent of fighters that was heading to the edge of the battle zone. “Wherever they’re trying to go, let’s cut them off.”

***​

Sariss wrinkled her nose when she entered the ballroom. “What happened here?” she asked the lanky Human who was hastily mopping the floor. “Was that the governor?” She indicated a pair of blood-soaked boots with frayed top edges that were standing below the pass-through to a coat room.

The man hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. “N-no, Madam. Th-the majordomo. I… I don’t know where the governor went, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Walking over to the man, Sariss ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. Watching her, Siin Suub had the distinct impression that she was relishing the fear she inspired in him. “I’m not much interested in the governor anyway, and neither is my guest. But tell me… what’s your name?”

“Uh-Ulmer, Madam.”

“Tell me, Ulmer, have you seen any Sullustan females around here?” She gestured at Suub, who was trying hard not to look at the blood pooling around the ruined boots. “They look like him, I suppose, only even shorter.”

At any other time, Suub would have bristled at the implied slight; but now his only goal was to get away from this woman as soon as he had the information he needed. To think that he had briefly fantasized about having her in his warren… It only made him long for his submissive Sullustan fems even more.

“They, they… oh, Madam.” The man’s voice broke as Sariss lifted his chin with one finger. “Yes?” she said.

“They’re in the throne room, Madam. I mean, they were. I don’t know, but the droid… They were in the throne room, in any case!”

“Thank you, Ulmer.” Sariss turned around on her heel, smiling down at Siin Suub. “I guess you know the way?”

Suub did indeed. His stomach was still trying to fold in on itself when they rode the turbolift to the throne room; but at least there was nothing in there to expel any more. Somehow the presence of one of Jerec’s servants was enough to make the castle that had been his home feel like a hostile and dangerous place. “Who was that ‘droid’ the man was referring to?” he asked Sariss, more to distract himself than out of genuine interest.

“Oh, he’s an old friend… or should I say, accomplice? His name is 8t88, with a ‘t’ in the middle. I believe you’re about to meet him, and his pet.”

“His pet?”

“A fascinating creature from Tertiary Kesmere… ah, there we are.”

The turbolift doors opened directly into the throne room. It was the same one Siin Suub had been in when the Rebel ships had appeared in the atmosphere; but in the intervening period, it had been transformed from a home into hell.

The windows were shuttered, and the low light of the sconces on the wall was reflected in streaks of blood along the floor. Fems cowered in dark niches and huddled together with sheer terror on their faces. Something snarled in the shadows to Suub’s right, and the crunching of bones was drowned out by Sullustan screams.

“Come on,” Sariss said brightly, and when Suub remained frozen she bent down and reached for his hand. “Don’t you want to meet your new roommate?”

***​

“It’s not working,” Sian Tevv said. “They’re not fighting back. Why isn’t the Vengeance fighting back?”

“Because she doesn’t need to,” Sien Sovv said grimly. They were both aboard Rockrender’s bridge now; Tevv and Muvunc had transferred there after handing command of the Arrow to Captain Jamiro, to remove any doubt about the chain of command. “We’re not attacking her with anything that could hurt her; so there’s no need for them to give away what they can do.”

“In other words, they’re on to us,” Ral’Rai Muvunc said. “They have been on to us from the beginning.”

“It looks that way.” Sovv turned back to the tactical display. “How long until Delvardus’ star destroyers are in range?”

“Approximately three minutes, sir,” the sensor officer said.

“At which point they’ll start pushing us back against Vengeance, and grind us up against their shields.” Sovv kept his voice low so the rest of the bridge crew wouldn’t hear. “Which means we have to change the game.”

“I’m sorry,” Tevv said. “For suggesting this plan.”

“I approved it, and I might have come up with it myself. Forget it.” Sovv flattened his ears and straightened, addressing the bridge. “Starfighter control, tell all squadrons to form up on their home ships. Comms, open a channel to all of our captains.”

“Done, sir.”

The New Republic forces were currently spread in a near-equilateral triangle around the Vengeance, one group attacking the drive section from below, another the bow from starboard and above, and the third, strongest one the superstructure halfway to the bridge. Neither was having any impact: harassed by starfighters, the few shots they got in dissipated harmlessly against the giant’s shields.

“All battle groups, break away from Vengeance on my mark,” Sovv said. “We charge Delvardus instead; let’s try to trap him in a triple pincer.”

“Peregrine here,” the interdictor’s captain spoke up. “Does that go for us too?”

Sovv looked at Sian Tevv, who replied with a pained shrug. “Negative, Peregrine. Focus on holding off those Interceptors, but stay in range as long as safely possible. If it gets too hot, turn your grav wells off and run.”

“Understood, Captain.”

“All other ships,” Sovv said, “lay in your courses.”

Confirmations sounded one after the other. “Two minutes,” the sensor officer mouthed.

“Mark,” Sovv said.

Tevv felt his heart sink as they converged on Delvardus’ trio of star destroyers and the small cloud of picket ships surrounding them. Even though Brilliant had taken some damage, the force was still more than a match for their cobbled-together fleet. Arrow and Rockrender might hold their own against one star destroyer each, for a while, but all their smaller vessels taken together would be hopeless against the third, let alone the Imperial support forces. What had been intended as an intelligence-gathering operation was about to become a pitched battle to the death…

“All ships, hold to your present courses,” Sovv said when they were almost in range. “Do not, I repeat, do not curve in towards the enemy. We strafe them as we pass them by; calculate firing solutions now.”

Sian Tevv held his breath as the New Republic ships leaped towards the enemy without slowing. At this speed, they were unlikely to score many hits; but the Imperials would be expecting them to slow down to engage, so their shots would go even wider. And then…

Suddenly space to port and in front of them erupted into fire. The barrage lasted for less than ten seconds; then they were past, and only a few stray Imperial shots streaked through the darkness after them. “All ships, reverse course,” Sovv ordered the moment it was over. It would take a while to catch up to them, Tevv knew, but with every moment Delvardus was getting closer to the Vengeance. “Let's see if we can't pin them against their own big brother.”

It was a good plan, Tevv thought as the force of the Rockrender’s turn pushed him against the side of his oversized seat. And it might even work… unless whoever was commanding Vengeance changed their mind and started firing on them after all.

***​

“Don’t worry,” Sariss said as sweetly as ever – only this time she was not addressing Siin Suub, but the steel-faced robot sitting on Jerec’s throne. “I am going to make the others hurry up, so they’ll relieve your boredom with a puzzle worthy of your brain. In the meantime, perhaps this one will entertain you – I believe he used to own those females you’ve been playing with, and for a while he seemed to think he owned this palace too.”

“I, I,” Siin Suub stammered, “I never…”

Sariss patted him on the head. “Have fun,” she said.

The monstrous furry creature next to the throne growled and rolled its shoulders, making its leathery wings stand out. “Please,” Suub whimpered, “please let me go… I never wanted to be here in the first place! I belong on Sullust… I’m the rightful CEO of SoroSuub… please!”

But Sariss walked out, and he was still unable to move except for his mouth, and he whimpered in fear with the fems when the turbolift doors shut with a hiss.

The creature half rose and growled, baring its bloody fangs in anticipation. The blood was Din’s, Suub thought with a fresh upwelling of nausea as he recognized the remains on the floor. Sweet, quiet Din – quiet except for her last scream that had greeted him upon his arrival just before.

“Hush, Grendel,” the robot said. “Sit.” To Suub’s surprise, the beast complied immediately, though it still kept its greedy eyes on Suub. “He’s been trying to play with your fems, but they’re boring,” 8t88 explained. “And somehow I don’t think you’ll put up much more of a fight. But I had a better idea.” Raising its flat-faced head, the mismatched photoreceptors on either side glowing as its gaze swept through the room, the droid raised its voice. “I hear this male believed he owned you,” it addressed the fems. “I can sympathize; I’ve had plenty of people think they owned me too. They’re all dead now, of course.” The droid spread its arms with an electronic chuckle. “So here is my suggestion. If you do to him what my pet here was doing to you, perhaps I will be entertained enough to let you live.”

In his terrified state, it took a while for the meaning of the words to seep into Siin Suub’s brain. By the time he figured it out, so had the fems.

One grabbed him from behind, pulling him off his feat. Two pinned his arms in place, four more his legs. Then Alv’s face was above his, twisted with fear and hate.

When she opened her mouth, her perfect teeth looked almost as terrifying as Grendel’s fangs.

***​

In orbit, hidden behind the pitch-black bulk of Vengeance, a fierce battle raged. Sien Sovv had instructed his captains to keep Delvardus’ fleet between them and the flank of the Super Star Destroyer; but as the two fleets exchanged broadsides and starfighters danced between them, Vengeance’s guns remained as silent as before.

Perhaps she isn't operational, Sian Tevv thought as he considered the massive vessel through the viewport. Rockrender was currently engaged with an Imperial-class Star Destroyer identified as Thunderstruck, which had retreated so far towards Vengeance’s shields it was fast running out of room to maneuver. Above the horizontal planes of fire the two ships were exchanging, Vengeance’s bow loomed like a horizon, with just a small sliver of Sulon’s disk peeking over it.

Feeling a momentary surge of dread, Tevv distracted himself by calling Peregrine, the modified cruiser that was holding everyone in place with its gravity well generators. More and more enemy starfighters were swarming it, Tevv saw on the tactical display, and the X-wing and A-wing squadrons Sovv had tasked with defending it were slowly being whittled down. “Peregrine, this is Rockrender,” he spoke into his private comm. “How are you holding up?”

“Don't worry about us, Councilor,” Captain Droe-Mar-Un of Peregrine said lightly, though the Cerean’s voice was scratchy with age and exertion. “We've still got a few tricks up our sleeve.” In the tactical view, Peregrine was rolling, jinking and juking in ways one would not normally expect from a capital ship. Because her only job was to keep the gravity well projectors within range of Vengeance, she did not have to worry about firing solutions, strategy, or keeping her crew from getting dizzy. Still, the enemy TIE Interceptors seemed to be cornering her, slowly trapping her in a globe of staggered fire through sheer force of numbers.

“Watch,” Droe-Mar-Un said; then a ping sounded across Rockrender’s bridge, followed immediately by another one. When it was over, Peregrine was suddenly outside the trap, along with most of her remaining fighter screen.

“They turned the interdiction field off for a microjump,” Sovv said next to him. “Clever. Tell him not to pull that too often, though, or they'll catch on and use it to surprise us too.”

Tevv relayed the message to Droe-Mar-Un, who promised to keep his jumps random and rare. “Like I said, don't worry,” he told Tevv. “We’ve helped kill a Vengeance before, at Nocto; we can do it again.”

***​

Sullustan hands clawed at Siin Suub’s clothes and scratched his skin; teeth dug into his arms as the fems fell on him; and while the abominable droid 8t88 was chuckling in his cruel, metallic way, Alv’s distorted face came closer and closer.

“Brace yourself,” she whispered. Then, before Suub could make sense of her words, the floor tilted away from under them, and they fell in a heap into a dark crawlspace below the throne room.

From upstairs, Suub heard 8t88's servomotors whir, and the claws of its pet scrabbling over the floor – but before either of them could get close, the trap doors shut again with a loud clang, sealing Suub and the fems in the darkness.

Moments later, a terrified Sullustan scream resounded through the floor, followed by snarling and the crunching of bones. “That’s Noor,” Alv whispered, her voice shaking. “She sacrificed herself to pull the lever hidden in the paneling. Move, everyone, or do you want her sacrifice to be in vain?”

That set the fems scrambling, and Suub along with them. They seemed to know the way, down the length of the throne room and then into a narrow space behind the wall, where cold metal ladders brought them down, down, and even further down in a breathless hurry.

They must have been using those paths all along, Suub realized, to get away from him, to go about their own secret fem business, or simply to preserve some of their privacy. They had never belonged to him as fully as he had assumed. The realization should have hurt, but there was little left of Suub’s pride after the repeated smack-downs of the day.

And they had saved him. Despite everything he had done to them, and everything they had endured while he was gone, they had still saved him. Noor, lithe and mouse-eyed Noor, had even sacrificed herself to ensure his escape.

When this was over, Suub vowed to himself, he would have to make amends.

***​

“Any news from the Vengeance?” Superior General Delvardus asked in the direction of the comms station. The young man stationed there shook his head, his lips set in a tense, frustrated line. They had been trying to reach Vengeance without pause since the battle had moved in the Super Star Destroyer’s shadow, but their entreaties kept being rebuffed.

“This would be an excellent time for them to change their mind,” Captain Cronus said quietly. Outside the viewport, the ISD Thunderstruck was being pummeled by Arrow of Sullust and a Proficient-class light cruiser; her bow shields were on the verge of failing, and enemy starfighters circled her like carrion flies. “I don’t see what Jerec has to gain by keeping his guns silent. They can’t be so special that keeping them secret justifies letting us die out here.”

In fact, Delvardus had commed Vengeance’s captain privately shortly after the big vessel first appeared in the system. Captain Sysco had been confused by Delvardus’ request not to shoot at the enemy, but Delvardus had given enough vague hints at a secret strategy that Sysco had assented.

Because in truth, Delvardus did not want to win. The presence of Vengeance in the Sullust system had been an unwelcome coincidence, when his plan had been to strike hard, provoking a counterstrike from the Rebels, and then flee. But with a Super Star Destroyer on their side, there was no reason why they could not rout the Rebel forces after all, committing Delvardus to a lengthy planetside action to bring the foundries of Sullust back under Imperial control.

Delvardus was not interested in Sullust’s foundries, or the fortunes of the Empire in this part of space. The only thing Sander Delvardus really was interested in was the comatose woman in the bow of his Star Destroyer: his unlucky mistress Seledra-Zin, whom he had injured with a sonic hammer in a fit of anger. A short while ago, an old friend from Coruscant had come to see him and told him, with the utmost discretion, that Emperor Palpatine had come back to life on Byss in the Deep Core, and that if anyone could help Seledra-Zin, it would be him.

But if Delvardus simply took his fleet into the Deep Core without giving a reason – and this was not a reason he could give to anyone – he knew he would have a mutiny on his hands. So he had to manufacture an excuse for a retreat; he had to attack the Rebels where he knew they wouldn’t yield. In short, he needed to lose.

But he needed to lose without being destroyed. “Captain, you have the bridge,” he said – and tried not to flinch when he saw the bow of Thunderstrike go up in flames, hit by a barrage of enemy torpedoes. “I’ll try to reach Vengeance again from my privacy booth.”

“Very well, sir.” Captain Cronus gave a hasty salute, then started shouting orders. Thunderstrike was lost, Delvardus realized with a pang; but at least that gave them an opportunity to consolidate their forces.

The moment the privacy booth’s doors swooshed shut behind him, he called Captain Sysco on Vengeance again. “Captain,” he said, “I need one more favor.”

Sysco’s hologram raised an eyebrow. “Total destruction?”

“No,” Delvardus said. “Only one shot.”

***​

Shea Hublin gritted his teeth. He had to hand it to those Rebels: they were good. Using their A-wings to chase them and their X-wings to get in the way of his Interceptors; jumping around madly at random intervals; keeping the battle zone moving instead of settling on a position and then defending it… they were still fighting as dirty as they had back when he’d made his name as the Rebel Destroyer, only with more skill and practice and better ships.

“Kriff,” a voice came over the squadron channel. “Was that the Brilliant?”

“No, Thunderstruck,” another voice said grimly.

“Cut the chatter, Axes,” Breston-Kay cut in. “Focus on what’s in front of you.”

In front of them was a furball, with flames and debris spreading outward from the high-speed collision of an A-wing and an Interceptor. Scissor Five, Hublin thought. Meaning we’re down to half…

Then, without warning, a huge emerald beam lanced out from Vengeance’s bow, slicing through enemy squadrons and friendly alike, and striking the Rebel interdictor ship full on. For a split second, the unwieldy Peregrine’s shields held; then they collapsed, and the cruiser exploded into a roiling cloud of superheated metal and gases.

“Break off!” Hublin shouted into his comm, pulling his own Interceptor out of the danger zone at full speed. “All squadrons, break off!” A signal chimed, and a message from Brilliant scrolled across his screen. “Return to base; all stragglers will be left behind!”

There were cheers on the squadron channel as they raced towards the two remaining Star Destroyers of Delvardus’ fleet, still besieged in the Vengeance’s shadow; but the cheers were muted, and the voices were few. Hublin knew it was not the time to make a tally of his losses, but he could not help noticing that Axe Leader was absent from his tactical display.

***​

With a flicker of pseudomotion, the two star destroyers vanished into hyperspace, followed moments later by the remaining Imperial picket ships. As they were left alone before Vengeance’s flank, cold terror crawled up Sian Tevv’s spine.

“Killing ground,” he whispered. Delvardus had drawn them into Vengeance’s field of fire; now he had gone, and it was obvious what was going to happen next.

Sien Sovv had obviously reached the same conclusion. “All ships, jump now!” he ordered. “No matter where; we’ll regroup momentarily. Nav, quickest course out of the system…”

“Laid in, sir,”

“Execute.”

The stars flared into lines, and for a horrible moment Tevv thought they might be Vengeance’s turbolasers after all. But then the blue of hyperspace enveloped them, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

***​

When Admiral Nantz arrived with the First Fleet, Vengeance had left for parts unknown, accompanied by three star destroyers of unknown designation that had entered the system shortly after Peregrine’s destruction. Together with Sovv, Tevv, Muvunc and Jamiro, Nantz went over the holos and reports from the battle multiple times; but in the end he was as stumped as any of them. “Infighting, I suppose,” he said. “Apparently Vengeance is commanded by one Jerec, who by all accounts seems to be a deeply unpopular character even in Imperial circles.”

“Are we sure he didn’t leave any surprises for us on Sulon?” Tevv asked. “Our recon ships spotted several shuttle flights to and from the moon, and a fuel ship taking off from near Baron’s Hed to join him.”

“Intelligence sent a team to go over the garrison,” Admiral Nantz said. “Apparently they had some kind of operation there, but they’re even more close-mouthed about it than usual.”

“We got a transmission from the government building before I came over here,” Jamiro said. “It’s from a Siin Suub, asking for clemency? He’s assured us that the fuel canisters in the aquifers have been rendered inert, too.”

Sian Tevv and Sien Sovv both perked up. “Siin Suub?” Sovv said. “He’s still around?”

“Governor Beeth was about to turn him over to us before Delvardus turned up in the system,” Tevv explained. “I figured it was a distraction.”

“Well, now it looks like Suub is holding Beeth and his assistant prisoner, at least according to his message,” Jamiro reported. “Says he’s ready to submit to New Republic justice, with the only condition being that his fems won't be made responsible for anything he did.”

“And Delvardus?” Muvunc asked. “He’s cleared out of the system completely?”

“Looks like it.” Nantz pulled up a tactical diagram of the sector. “From their course jumping out, it seems they’re heading towards Sanrafsix. I’m leaving Firebrand here to support Arrow of Sullust in defending the system,” he said, nodding towards Tevv and Muvunc before turning to Sovv, “and sending three of my pickets with you while you hunt him down.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sien Sovv said. “Puck and Soothfast took some damage, but we should be able to fix them up in a day or two using the shipyards here.”

“Delvardus should take at least as long to get his forces back in order, from what I’ve seen here.” Nantz shut down the hologram and straightened up. “The rest of the First is needed Corewards. Happy hunting.”

“Uh, thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

In the shuttle back to the Arrow, Muvunc asked Tevv, “Is he always like this?”

“Who, Admiral Nantz? Yes, on his good days.”

“Good thing I didn’t let them rope me into the military, then.” Muvunc stroked his scarred lekku, looking out at the two globes of Sulon and Sullust ahead of them. “I’m going to need freighters, Sian. Lots and lots of freighters. With Sulon free, we’ll be able to feed not just Sullust, but Druckenwell and possibly Spirana too.”

Which, Tevv reminded himself, was what they had come here for in the first place. Whatever convoluted stratagems the Imperials were up to, the New Republic had to make sure that its new member worlds could not only remain free, but thrive.

“You’ll get your freighters, Ral’Rai,” he said. “I’ll make sure of that.”

 

Excellent stuff. Nice also to see Sien Sovv used/developed further... and more EGTW material.

I'd also be very interested to delve more into the ReExpanded project... perhaps even to contribute, at some stage?

Looking at the timeline too - I had not realised hitherto there was so many New Sith War stories.,.. mainly by Sakaros.

 

Love it