21 BBY, One year into the Clone Wars
Ardus ‘Coldeye’ Zail sat at his gunnery station, watching as the visual display of hyperspace flew past.  Any second now his ship, the dreadnaught Indigo Blade, would revert to realspace.  If fleet intelligence had done their job right, the cruiser and several other capital ships of the year-old unified Republic Navy would be right on top of a Separatist taskforce.

With a lurch the Indigo Blade came to a stop, and as the starlines shrunk back to pinpoints of light, Zail’s sharp blue eyes quickly picked up the shapes of enemy vessels.

The fleet of the Confederacy of Independent Systems was a motley collection of frigates and cruisers, sporting a variety of logos including the Trade Federation and Intergalactic Banking Clan.  It never ceased to amaze Zail that the CIS, with all its claims of wanting freedom and liberty, so willingly collaborated with the same greedy corporations whose bribes and shady dealings sought to undermine democracy.  Not that he cared.  Those same companies had been eating away at the Republic Senate for years.  Now that they had found a new regime to screw over, maybe they would leave the hardworking people on his side of the galactic boarder alone.

Through his headset, orders tumbled down from up the command chain, from the Captain to the Gunnery Chief to the turbolaser operators.  Zail caught sight of the enemy and, given which of them was closest, could have guessed their target even without word from the bridge.  Vulture droids, and plenty of them!

The fighters, thinking machines with no separate pilot, swooped down upon the Dreadnaught, opening fire.  In the distance their carrier, a Lucrehulk Class Droid Control Ship, hung back, letting its fighters do the work.  The second the Vultures were in range Zail and his fellow gunners opened fire, spewing bright green death into space.

Having earned the callsign of ‘Coldeye’ at the Raithal Academy, Zail was gifted with natural aim and reflexes, and over the past year he had improved greatly.  The Clone Wars had given him more combat experience than some naval men of previous generations had accrued in their entire peace-time careers.  Like a good officer, he had learned from every engagement and now had one of the top shot-to-hit ratios on the Indigo Blade.

“Got one!” He heard from an enthusiastic voice on his headset comlink.  Zail recognised it instantly as the voice of Uwarsk the Bothan, his best friend.

“Nice shooting,” Said Coldeye, “But I’ve already downed two!” He taunted.

This brought a round of challenges and cries of one-upmanship from the other gunners.  They all tended to stay in contact like this during battle, something that the Gunnery Chief not only permitted but encouraged.  Teamwork and healthy competition in it were considered beneficial in the navy.

The ship rocked under the attacks of the Vultures as scores of them shot past the Indigo Blade, firing at the thick hull as they went.  Meanwhile still more of the irksome droids continued to spill from the  Control Ship, providing the turbolaser crews with a target rich environment.

Zail squeezed the trigger again and again, almost unable to miss, and wondered just what his shot-to-hit ratio would look like at the end of the day.  For a while the young man from Alderaan, still only in his mid-twenties, forgot about the gravity of the battle and just enjoyed himself.  Racking up kills became such an easy thing when the fighters he and his friends shot down did not contain living beings.

Coldeye and his fellows got a sudden and jarring reality check soon enough.  Nearby, one of the Republic corvettes in their attack fleet was taking a pounding from two CIS frigates.  Out of the corner of his eye, Zail saw the ship experience shield collapse, and then exploded spectacularly with the intensity of an exploding star.

All who saw it instantly knew that this was no game.  People were dying, and Zail and his friends re-dedicated themselves to their firing with renewed determination.

The battle rolled on, with both the Republic and the CIS taking heavy casualties in both capital ships and fighters.  Coldeye was not a bridge officer, he did not have access to charts and sensors, and so he had no real clue as to who was winning.  In truth, he did not need to.  He did his duty, and would just keep firing until someone said ‘stop’, or the Indigo Blade was destroyed.

Suddenly, Zail’s keen eyes caught something unusual heading his way.  “Coldeye, here!” He said, opening fire on the latest wave of fighters.  “I can make out a different set of ships behind the Vultures!  Can someone check that out?”

Word came back swiftly from the sensor officer on the bridge.  “Assault craft!” Relayed the Gunnery Chief, “Coming right for us and using the Vulture Droids as cover!  Shift priorities and hit those boarding ships!”

Zail and his fellows needed no further encouragement.  They had all heard the horror stories of Republic ships stormed by teams of droids and their crews slaughtered deck by deck.  It would not happen to the Indigo Blade!

Again and again they opened fire, the gunners trying to slip their shots through the screen of fighters.  Zail was the most proficient of his fellows, but even he struggled.  The Vultures, unthinking automatons directed by the will of the Control Ship, threw themselves in the path of most accurate shots, sacrificing themselves to shield the assault craft.

Coldeye did not need scanners to suspect that their foes were getting through, and when the first thud of an impact rang through the hull, he knew what had happened.  The droids were boarding the Indigo Blade!

-----

In short order, close to a dozen assault craft slipped past the Dreadnaught’s guns and burrowing into the hull like ticks on an animal’s hide.  Penetrating the thick armour, the craft disgorged their battle droids into the corridors beyond.

There was little initial resistance, as none of the crew was waiting in ambush for the droids.  They were too smart for that.  The assault craft tended to rip open the hull without finesse, exposing the section they entered to the void.  The lack of atmosphere did not bother the droids, who marched forwards to press deeper into the ship.

As they advanced, emergency bulkheads closed behind them, protecting the air in the sections beyond.  No longer hampered by the lack of air, the crew spilled from doorways and adjoining corridors, and the fight to repel the invaders was underway.

-----

The sounds of the fighting spilled through the nearby walls, into the large hallway that ran for several dozen meters along the side of the ship and housed the starboard side guns.  At their stations, Zail and his fellow gunners knew that they were high on the droids list of priorities, and the mechanical murderers would come through soon.

“Okay!” Called the Chief to his men, “We have to defend our posts!  Lock down your turrets, grab your sidearms, and let’s fight back!”

Coldeye hopped down from his seat, a blaster pistol in his hand, and came to the side of Uwarsk.

The Bothan’s fur was rippling as a sign of his nervousness, but Uwarsk was still able to glance at his friend and smile.  “You know how to use that thing, Ardus?”

“I can fire anything,” Zail assured him, and then looked towards the doors at the end of the hall.  They were glowing red, as if something on the other side was trying to burn its way through.  “Here they come!” He called, and the assembled gunners braced themselves.

The doors toppled inwards, revealing a trio of battle droids with a large fusion cutter held between them.  They were the instantly shot apart by a barrage of shots from Zail and the other gunners, but this merely stirred the legions behind them into battle.  Led by a spearhead of Super Battle Droids, the mechanical foes spilled into the turret hall, filling the air with the scent of burning ozone.

The crewmen of the Indigo Blade took cover behind their turret stations and fired back, and at first their superior marksmanship skills gave them the upper hand.  In an even numbers battle Coldeye and his fellows would have been victorious, but the enemy seemed all but limitless.  More and more droids rushed without fear or hesitation into the room, surrounding and pinning down the crewmen a few at a time.

“This is not going well!” Said Uwarsk at Zail’s side, taking aim and downing another of the droids.  As he spoke, the Bothan’s voice held a tension that his friend had never heard before.

“Just keep firing!” Retorted Zail, shooting again and again.  “Gunners never give up their stations!”

Close by, the Gunnery Chief shook his head sadly as he saw another of his crew take a lethal shot to the head.  “Sorry, Coldeye, but we are losing too many people!  Its time to fall back!”

Zail cursed under his breath, and for the first time took his eyes off his foes to survey the damage that had been done.  A lot of his friends, almost half of the gunnery team, lay dead upon the deck.  Droids had no sense of mercy, and in the Clone Wars there was rarely a case of Republic soldiers being wounded but not finished off.  “Understood, sir,” He snarled, and he and Uwarsk began to fall back with the Chief and a handful of others.

Zail took one last look at the turret hall, where he had served for two long years, and then surrendered it to the droids of the CIS.

-----

Coldeye and his fellows rendezvoused with the ship’s contingent of Clone Troopers, and together they fought back.  Deck by deck the machines came on, fighting with a tirelessness that only droids could manage and that living beings could not hope to match.

Time and again Zail saw the Clones fight with bravery and skill, and he could not help but admire them.  Truly, whoever they had been cloned from was one hell of a fighter!

Still, as various key areas of the ship fell into enemy hands through sheer weight of numbers, it became obvious to the remaining crew that the Indigo Blade was lost.  Finally, only the top deck (containing the bridge) remained in friendly hands, though the last few beleaguered defenders knew it would not be so for much longer.

“How can there be so many?” Grumbled Uwarsk, crouched in a doorway in a strategic central corridor.

Close by, Zail had been pondering the same problem.  “A lot more assault craft have landed since those initial few,” Said Coldeye, placing a fresh power pack in his pistol in preparation for the droids’ next inevitable assault.

“How do you know?” Asked the Bothan.

“It’s why they came for us,” Ardus told his friend.  “By driving us from our turrets, they made sure no one would fire at any further landing craft.  My guess is that they have been bringing in more droids since we lost control of the turbolasers.”

“Kriffing great,” Said Uwarsk, suddenly feeling the same pang of guilt that had been haunting Zail.  Had they not failed to defend their posts then it is possible the Dreadnaught would not now be over-run.  Still, no sooner had they thought that then they drove it from their minds.  They did their best, like true warriors of the Republic.  If the ship was lost, it was the CIS who were to blame.

Nearby, a Clone Trooper sergeant shushed them.  “Less chatter.  The clankers are coming!  I can hear them!”

Neither Zail nor Uwarsk questioned the soldier, and sure enough a few moments later the blast door at the end of the corridor exploded under a seismic charge.  Dozens of all-too-familiar metal forms poured out through the gap, opening fire.

“Hold your ground men!” Called the Gunnery Chief, who had taken command of the corridor’s twenty or so defenders, a mix of crewmen and Clones.  “We need not hold them long!” He bellowed, referring to the plan they had all been briefed on.

The CIS had seized the engine room of the Indigo Blade and blocked the bridge’s attempts to set the ship’s self-destruct.  Clearly they wanted the warship for themselves, but the Captain had refused to let his ship fall into enemy hands.  Right now he and the bridge officers were working on a work-around to blow the ship, but it would take time.  The remaining crew were charged with buying that time.

Coldeye fired again and again, and though constant fighting had fatigued him and sapped his strength, his aim was still sure enough to down droids after droid with single well-placed hits.

Suddenly there was a scream at his side, and he turned to see Uwarsk fall, a smoking blaster wound in his chest.  Zail’s eyes widened in horror, and he rushed to his friend’s side.  He knew little about Bothan physiology, but he knew a fatal wound when he saw one.

“No...” He said, looking down at his fallen comrade, who clung to life for just a few seconds longer.

“I would have liked...” Said Uwarsk with a pained smile, “To meet... your supposedly attractive wife...” And then he was gone.

For a few long and empty moments, Ardus just stared blankly, numb.  And then Coldeye’s sparkling blue eyes went through a sudden and dramatic change.  One moment they were filled with sadness, and the next they filled with rage.  Locking sight on the oncoming droids, Zail let loose a primal roar of anger and opened fire again and again.

His shots were wild and unfocused, but the young Petty Officer was seeing red and maddened to a level he never thought possible.  Another droid toppled, and another, but given Zail’s wild behaviour, this was more from luck than anything.  He barely noticed it when the Chief laid a restraining hand on his shoulder, and it was not until his superior pulled Zail around to face him that he finally stopped shooting.

“Mr Zail!” Bellowed the Chief.  “Cease fire immediately!”

“But... Uwarsk...” Said Coldeye, his voice suddenly weak.

“The bridge is finished!  The ship is about to blow, and we need to head to the escape pods!” Said the other man firmly.  Zail understood, and forced himself to get a grip.  Laying down a suppressing fire, they began to withdraw.

Zail was still an emotional wreck, and later he could barely recall the retreat to the pods.  Before he knew it, he was sat in the cramped lifeboat, looking back at the regal Dreadnaught as it blew.  It was the first, and at that point only vessel he had ever served on.

Ardus felt tears in his eyes, and judged the light show of the exploding warship a fitting tribute for his lost friend.

OOC:

2483 words.  This story is set a year after the last one, as I have skipped ahead into the heart of the Clone Wars.  The next post will be set a week later, as Ardus Zail returns to battle in a new ship.

After Action Report:  Ardus Zail has seen constant fighting since the Clone Wars began a year ago and is now an accomplished gunner.  However, during a battle, droids boarded his Dreadnaught, the Indigo Blade, killing his best friend, the Bothan Uwarsk.  To prevent it being used by the CIS, the Republic blew the ship as Zail and the few survivors fled.

20 BBY, Two years into the Clone Wars
The office of Captain Var Jraan was a sparsely decorated affair.  A few medals and mementoes of the Kel Dor officer’s career adorned the walls, but generally he did not go in for the more decorative touches that some commanding officers added to their place of work.

Across the gleaming black table from the alien, his first officer, Lieutenant Commander Alek de Maquel studied the datapad that his superior had just handed him.  “So we are close, then?” He said, putting down the report from Republic Intelligence.

“Yes,” Said the Captain of the Venator Class Star Destroyer Blazing Crown.  “Firone and his fleet have established a base on a planetoid on the edge of the Rainbow Bridge Nebula.  We have orders to unite with another taskforce and proceed there to crush him once and for all.”

The ‘Firone’ he referred to was Commodore Legan Firone, a Neimodian fleet commander of some repute.  Unlike most of his race, Firone was not a member of the Trade Federation, but was in fact a former mercenary.  He had spent years serving the Hutts as a skilled frigate captain, gaining valuable combat experience.  When the Confederacy of Independent Systems was formed and began to seek out commanders for its fleets, Firone had taken his fellow Neimodians up on their offer of membership.  Being granted leadership of a large taskforce, Firone had proven himself a menace throughout the Outer Rim.

And now, the Open Circle Armada, the elite fleets of the Republic, were hunting him down.  The Blazing Crown was assigned a leading role in that effort.

“When do we go in?” Asked Lieutenant Commander de Maquel, ready for combat at all times.

“Reinforcements are due here later,” Said the Captain, trying to curb his XO’s enthusiasm.  “We launch tomorrow.”

-----

As the day went on, other ships arrived to rendezvous with the Blazing Crown.  Soon a large fleet of ships, each emblazoned with the logo of the famed Open Circle Armada, had coalesced.  At the core of the strike force was half a dozen Star Destroyers, escorted by various frigates and cruisers.  From his quarters on the Blazing Crown, Ardus ‘Coldeye’ Zail, Petty Officer and gunner, looked out and knew that the fight ahead was going to be the largest he had ever participated in.

He was stirred from his musings by the sound of a door chime.  Turning to face it, he straightened his uniform and said, “Enter!”

The door opened and the young man from Alderaan broke into a big smile.  The woman who stood there, tall and regal with the rank insignia of a Commander upon her breast, was his most beloved relative.

“Aunt Elise!” He said, and then suddenly remembered himself.  Saluting smartly, he said, “I mean, Commander Zail!  To what do I owe this visit, ma’am?”

Her harsh face, the one she wore for her duties as an officer, began to relax.  “At ease!” She said, her commander’s mask dropping away.  Spreading her arms wide in welcome, Elise stepped into the room to hug him.  “Ardus, so good to see you!”

He returned the hug and then gestured for her to take a seat.  Dropping down onto the edge of his bed (his cramped quarters had only one chair), Ardus said, “Good to see you too, auntie.  I thought I heard that the Nightsong would be joining us for this one.”

Elise gestured out the window to one of the other Star Destroyers.  “Yeah, that’s her out there.  A fine ship, just like all these Venators, but I don’t need to tell you that,” She said, indicating around her.  “Can’t tell you how proud I was to hear that you had qualified for service in the Open Circle.  Your grandfather would be proud.”

The man she spoke of, Adion ‘Sunset’ Zail, was also an officer, and Ardus revered the man’s legacy even more than he revered his aunt.  He smiled and said, “Thank you.” At her kind words, his eyes flicked to the old officer’s medal he had framed upon the wall.

Elise frowned when she saw it.  “I thought that old keepsake was in your home on Alderaan?” She said, seeing Adion’s medal.

Ardus shrugged.  “I figured I needed it closer,” He said, gazing at it fondly.

His aunt accepted this, and then said, “How long has it been since you’ve been home?” She asked carefully.

A sorrow filled her nephew’s eyes.  “Too long,” He admitted.

“How far along is Sillana?” Asked Elise, referring to Ardus’s wife.

“Any day now,” Said the young man.  “My first child, and I will miss the birth.”

“I could try and pull some strings with Captain Jraan...” Began Elise, but Ardus shook his head.

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want any special treatment,” He said.  “Besides, it’s too late now anyway.  I’ll make it up to Sillana somehow, trust me.”

“Very well,” Said Elise, and they turned to other, happier matters.  They had a lot to catch up on, and as they relaxed with talk of family both tried to forget the impending battle of the morrow.

-----

The flotilla of Republic ships formed up at the edge of an uninhabited system.  With no admiralty present, command of the vessels fell to Captain Jraan of the Blazing Crown.

“Jraan to all ships!” Said the Kel Dor from the bridge.  “All hands prepare for battle!  Micro-jump on my mark!  Three... two... one... jump!”

And on command, twenty five warships accelerated to beyond the speed of light in the blink of an eye.

And then, just as quickly, they reverted back to realspace.  In front of the ships spread the majesty of the Rainbow Bridge Nebula, an anomaly of staggering beauty renowned throughout the sector.  In peacetime the space station on the edge of the nebula would have been a centre of tourism, but now it had been commandeered by the Confederacy of Independent Systems.  Already the station was launching droid fighters, who joined the already numerous ships surrounding the base.

The CIS fleet, numbering almost twenty capital ships, was quick to respond, and rushed to meet the Republic forces.  In moments the first shots were being fired.

The Battle of the Rainbow Bridge Nebula had begun.

-----

Zail swivelled in his turret, spraying fire across the bow of an incoming vulture fighter.  The first few shots missed, but Coldeye adjusted ever so slightly, and the next blast caught the enemy full on and blew it to pieces.

Without pausing to exalt in his victory, Zail turned to the next foe, and then the next.  On and on the droids kept coming, as in so many previous battles, and once again the Petty Officer wondered at the seemingly limitless ranks of the enemy.

Slowly he became aware that the Blazing Crown was drawing closer to one of the enemy cruisers, and orders came down to shift targets.  Like a good gunner, Zail of course complied, but he took no joy in it.  Firing at large capital ships offered no challenge to gunners, for the enemy could not dodge and so there was no skill involved.  As Zail’s Star Destroyer closed in, he lamented that even a basic automated firing computer could hit their target.

The enemy returned fire, even as their shields began to buckle and fail.  Coldeye’s gaze swept across the readouts of his turbolaser, and not for the first time he marvelled at the power output.  The weapons of these Venators was well beyond that of his old dreadnaught, and while he missed the old heavy cruiser, he loved his new ship.

Loved, he thought?  No, not really.  His only true love was back on Alderaan, and she was currently pregnant with his first born son...

Zail shook the distracting thoughts as best he could, and continued firing.

-----

Starfighters shot back forth across space, spewing fire at each other.  Intertwined with this chaos, capitals ships managed their own slow-speed imitation of the dance of death.  Vessels large and small lit the sky with their deaths, and already at this stage of the battle both fleets had taken around ten percent casualties.

However, since the Republic had began with a larger force, that gave them the advantage, but it was still early days.

“Encountering heavy fire from the station, Captain!” Reported Lieutenant Commander de Maquel.  “The Pride of Amakeel and the Faithful Star have taken heavy damage!”

“Pull them back!” Snapped Captain Vraan, his gaze sweeping across the battle in the bridge viewport.  “Bring up the Nightsong to fill their place.”

“Sir,” Queried de Maquel as he came to his CO’s side, “Can’t we just pull the fleet back out of range of the station?”

The Kel Dor shook his head.  “If we pull back that far, we give the CIS fleet a chance to escape.  I won’t allow Commodore Firone to pull another of his miraculous escapes.”  The Captain frowned and then turned to the Sensor Chief.  “Have we found his flagship yet?”

One of the junior officers in the crew pit checked his systems and responded, “Yes, sir!  The Providence-class destroyer Forgotten Son has been confirmed as present!  It is currently moving to engage the Nightsong.”

Lieutenant Commander de Maquel turned to his Captain upon hearing the news.  “We take out Firone and the CIS fleet will fall apart.  We can end this now, sir.”

“Agreed,” Said Vraan.  “Helm!  Bring us around to engage the Forgotten Son!  All weapons stations stand by!”

-----

The cruiser that Zail had been pummelling began to come apart.  It did not die a spectacular death, and merely shut down and began to drift.  As a handful of escape pods fled the dying ship (CIS ships only had a few living crewman), the Blazing Crown began to ignore it and came about to a different foe.

Zail checked his orders and the reply was that they were about to head for the flagship of the Confederate fleet, which was currently engaging the Star Destroyer Nightsong.

Of course he recognised the name instantly.

“Hold on, Aunt Elise,” Said Coldeye out loud, “We are coming to help you.”

OOC:

Word Count 1691.  This is the second of three battles I want to do during the Clone Wars part of Coldeye’s life.  The next post will deal with the conclusion of the battle and its aftermath, including the birth of Ardus’s son (my actual character).

After Action Report:  Part of the Open Circle Armada, led by Zail’s ship the Blazing Crown, has been hunting a CIS fleet led by Commodore Legan Firone.  They have tracked his force to a base at the edge of the Rainbow Bridge Nebula.  With the help of extra ships, including the vessel of Zail’s Aunt Elise, the Star Destroyer Nightsong, they have begun the attack.  However, Coldeye is distracted by the knowledge that, back on Alderaan, his wife Sillana is due to give birth any day now.

19 BBY, End of the Clone Wars
Warships roared silently out of hyperspace by the thousands, constituting the Fifth Fleet of the Open Circle Armada.  The immense force had raced back to Coruscant from the Outer Rim sieges upon hearing of the attack on the capital.  And as they emerged from lightspeed and beheld the Confederate fleet in orbit, the warriors of the Open Circle realised the scope of the task before them.

Under the command of General Grievous, the CIS fleet also numbered in the thousands, and were currently engaged against the overwhelmed and surprised forces of the Republic defensive fleet.  The mighty city planet of Coruscant had not known such chaos in centuries, and when the two awesome forces collided, the skies were alive with lasers and explosions that the planet’s billions of citizens never dreamed of seeing.

Among the countless forces of the Republic, the Venator Star Destroyer Blazing Crown rushed to engage the enemy.  On the bridge, the Kel Dor Captain Var Jraan barked orders.

“Raise shields!  Activate all weapon batteries!  Launch all fighters!  All hands to battle stations!”

“You heard the Captain,” Said his faithful right hand, Lieutenant Commander Alek de Maquel, rushing around the bridge to oversee the various departments.  “Gunnery Chief, this is the bridge!  Target the nearest enemy vessel and order your men to fire at will!”

-----

At his turbolaser station, Ardus ‘Coldeye’ Zail heard the Chief’s orders and had no problem complying.  Three years of fighting in the Clone Wars had turned Zail into a sharp-eyed gunner, the finest on the Blazing Crown.  Part of this was his natural hand-eye coordination, but he also had an extra edge in battle.  Hatred.  Since the Clone Wars began, he had lost his first ship, the Indigo Blade, and with it his best friend Uwarsk the Bothan.  And then, making it even worse, he had lost his Aunt Elise in battle a year later.  His favourite relative, the one person he respected more than any other, and the CIS had taken her life.

Now, Ardus Zail went into every battle with a major chip on his shoulder, and that rage had made him a new breed of deadly.

He squeezed the trigger, and focused on the deaths of his enemies.

-----

Lines of warships flew past each other, firing off broadsides capable of reducing entire worlds to life ash.  Captains and Admirals on both sides tried to co-ordinate the opening stages of the battle, but as starfighter squadrons broke and attacked, and the first few warships blew, chaos began to assert itself.

The red and white vessels of the Open Circle Armada clashed with cruisers and frigates of the Banking Clan and Trade Federation.  As a corvette came into range, the Blazing Crown focused its fire, pummelling the smaller craft relentlessly.  Zail himself got in several key hits, targeting vital areas with precision.

Soon enough the corvette blew, and the Star Destroyer flew onwards towards it next victory.

“Incoming fighters,” Came a voice over Zail’s headset.  “Target at will!”

Ardus needed no further encouragement, opening fire as the tiny craft shot past.  Fast and manoeuvrable, just landing a hit on one with their cumbersome turbolasers was tough, and yet Zail was able to down two.

“They just keep coming!” Came a voice on his headset.  It was one of the newer gunners, a fresh-from-the-academy newbie who had been on board just a month.

“Then just keep killing them!” Snarled Zail.  “These little ships are just target practice anyway.  We are just killing time until we get into position to fire on a real enemy, like...”

And suddenly, Coldeye’s voice caught in his throat.  He looked and saw what ship they were approaching, and he knew it at once.  It was the Forgotten Son, the warship that was flagship to the CIS’s famed Commodore Firone.

The Neimodian who had obliterated the Star Destroyer Nightsong and murdered its entire crew, including Ardus’s Aunt Elise.

-----

“Sir, we are taking heavy fire from a nearby frigate!” Reported Lieutenant Commander de Maquel.  “It’s trying to stop us from reaching the Forgotten Son.”

“Order another capital ship to intercept,” Said Captain Jraan.  “Press on and open fire on the Forgotten Son the moment we are in range!  I want Firone dead!”

He had chased the feared Commodore across the Outer Rim for over a year.  If he could take out Firone here, then whatever portion of the CIS forces that the Neimodian commanded would be in disarray.  Jraan could complete his mission and greatly aid the course of the battle in a single move.

-----

As soon as they were within range, Zail was the first to open fire on the Forgotten Son.  His green shots lanced out, and splashed against the heavy shielding of the Providence-class Destroyer.  He leaned into his firing controls, gritting his teeth, as if by sheer will he could force his shots through and kill the monsters who had murdered his aunt.

-----

Firone watched the assault, thinking back to the last time he had fought the Blazing Crown, back during the Battle of the Rainbow Bridge Nebula.  There he had sacrificed an allied frigate to escape, and had had to lie about it afterwards to Confederate command.

Now, serving directly under General Grievous, such expensive ways to save himself would be difficult.  Firone would have to be more creative to get out of this.

“Sir!  Message from the General!” Called one of his living bridge crew.  “He has captured the Supreme Chancellor from the surface of Coruscant and has returned safely to the Invisible Hand.”

The Commodore whistled in appreciation.  He had privately doubted that this several-thousand vessel kidnap plot would actually work, but apparently the cyborg had pulled it off.  “There’s goes my promotion,” He mused.  “Tell the General that my force is holding, but that the Republic reinforcements are putting us under pressure.  Anytime he wants to fall back with our prize hostage is fine by me.”

Suddenly a heavy impact rocked the Forgotten Son.  Firone was experienced enough to differentiate between an energy hit and a physical impact, and knew this to be the latter.

“Bombers?” He queried.

His XO nodded.  “Just arrived with the Blazing Crown.  Their Captain seems to really want us, sir.”

“Very well,” Said the Commodore.  “Begin to fall back, bring up two more cruisers to cover us.  I dare say the General will be ordering us to go any minute now, and I want to be ready for it.”

-----

“They are starting to retreat, sir!” Said Commander de Maquel.

“Stay with them!” Ordered Captain Jraan.  “Call in another two fighter squadrons if you have to, but bring Firone down!”

-----

Another series of punishing hits rocked the Forgotten Son, but even as other ships came up to support him, the Commodore knew it was over.  The attack of the Blazing Crown was just too single minded, too brutal.

Firone could not help but respect it.

Still, the reality was that his ship was about to fall, and him with it.  However, the Commodore looked out at the space around them, and the legions of CIS warships out there.  If he and his crew were to simply take to escape pods, the odds were good that a friendly vessel would collect them.

And if not, he could just bribe his way to freedom.  Firone knew that several other ranking CIS prisoners had done that.  The Republic was so deliciously corrupt after all.

“Okay, everybody out!” He called.  “Order the droid crews to man the guns and keep firing to provide cover.  Bridge crew, you’re with me!” Called Firone, wanting to keep his team together.  Like him, they had all served as mercs on the Outer Rim, and he had more loyalty to them than he did the CIS.

-----

There was sudden cheering in Zail’s headset as his fellow gunners saw the escape pods jettison from the Forgotten Son.  However, he did not join in their exultation as the enemy vessel died.

Instead, he eyed the pods, and wondered which one contained the murderous Commodore Firone.

“I’m going to finish this,” Ardus said, his cool blue eyes focusing on the command pod that emerged from the bridge.  That had to contain the object of his vengeance.

He locked on his turbolaser, and traced the pod.  It was in weapon’s range, he need only to squeeze the trigger.

However, he hesitated.  The image of his Aunt Elise flashed through his mind.  He was about to do this for her and yet... he could not.  Ardus knew that if he were to fire, his actions would be automatically recorded by his firing computer.  He would murder the beings in that pod, and it would be the end of his military career.

No!  His career did not matter!  This was for his aunt, for the woman who had encouraged him, supported him, in a way that even his parents never had!

And yet Zail knew, deep down, that Aunt Elise would not condone him throwing his life away.  Not even for her.

Slowly, reluctantly, he eased off the trigger, and let out a long breath he did not know that he was holding.

It was over.

-----

It was over, it was all over.  The Battle of Coruscant saw the death of Count Dooku, the leader of the Separatists, and not too long after, General Grievous also fell.  The Clone Wars were over.

From one of the common rooms on board the Blazing Crown, Zail and a handful of other off-duty personnel watched a live transmission that was going out across the HoloNet.

Ardus watched live as Chancellor Palpatine announced the end of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and also the creation of the Galactic Empire, with himself as Emperor.  He concluded the speech with orders to hunt and destroy the Jedi, and also the promise of war crimes trials for all captured CIS leaders.

Firone was on that list, and Zail was delighted to hear that the Commodore would be executed when found guilty.  He knew now that killing the Neimodian himself would have been the wrong thing, and that Aunt Elise would now finally get justice.

When the transmission ended, Ardus looked around at the other Republic (or was it Imperial?) crewmen present.

The first one to speak was a native of Chandrila.  “He is now dictator for life?” Roared the man.  “And the Jedi are branded traitors?  Does anyone believe this?”

There were a few murmurs of agreement, but Zail silenced then with a sharp outburst.  “Hey!  This is Palpatine we are talking about here!  He is strong, and he is determined!  I for one trust him!”

The Chandrilan non-com stared at the gunner in disbelief.  “Coldeye, you can’t be serious!  This Empire is the death of the democracy we just spent three years fighting to protect!  And where I come from, democracy is valued,” And at this declaration there were more sounds of agreements from others.

“I’m from a world that values political education too,” Snarled Zail.  And as he spoke, he thought back to his father, Kenth, and all the time he had spent arguing with him.  “You know one of the first things I learned in high school?  ‘You can fight a war for democracy, but you can’t fight a war democratically’.  That’s why we voted Palpatine so much power to take charge and lead us through the war.”

“The war is over, Zail,” Said the other.

“No its not!” Snapped Ardus.  “The Clone Wars are over, yes, but the real war goes on!  I’m talking about the war against uncaring bureaucracy, greedy self-serving public servants, manipulative mega-corporations, and the thousand other things that brought the Republic down!  What, you think that the Clone Wars was some random blip that sprung up over night?  The creaking democracy you so value was building up to this fiasco for centuries!”

Zail looked around before continuing, ensuring that he had the attention of all present.  His words continued to pour from him, giving vent to his anger.  This man from Chandrila sounded too much like Ardus’s father.  The type of person who believed that the Republic was some magical and perfect force for good in the galaxy, when it most blatantly was not.

“The Clone Wars have left the galaxy in a complete mess,” Said Zail.  “And let me tell you what will happen if we bring back the Republic.  Several powerful companies will bribe the Senate into handing them control of the reconstruction.  They will bleed public taxes dry through their costly efforts, hoarding profits while doing sub-standard work.  They will use cheap droids for this, ensuring zero growth in employment, all the while paralysing the government with pointless legislation designed to shield them at best, or aid their exploitation at worse.  And through it all, regular folks like us will be unable to do a kriffing thing about it!”

Now people were nodding at Zail’s words.  This was just the sort of nonsense they could remember from years back, before Palpatine was elected to the role of Supreme Chancellor.

“So I for one am going to support this Empire,” Finished Ardus.  “Partly because I trust Palpatine, and partly because I know it can’t be worse than the Republic.  And when my children grow up and ask me what the galaxy was like before the Clone Wars, I’m going to answer them truthfully.  Not with tales of a great democracy for all, but of a corrupt regime that undid itself, and deserved to die.”

And with that, he rose and stormed off, and was surprised to note a great many people applauding his words as he went.

A few weeks later, he returned home to Alderaan for some much needed shore leave.  When he saw his wife Sillana, and his son Pherik, it was as a gunner in the new Imperial Navy.

OOC:

Word Count 2319.  The Clone Wars are over and Ardus ‘Coldeye’ Zail is now to enjoy peacetime as an officer in the Galactic Empire.  The story is not over there, though...

After Action Report: Ardus is present at the Battle of Coruscant.  There he finally gets a chance to shoot down the Neimodian war criminal Commodore Firone, who he blames for the death of his Aunt Elise.  He resists the urge to commit murder, and is rewarded by seeing Chancellor Palpatine’s harsh justice execute the war criminal.  In the following weeks he becomes part of the Imperial Navy. 

15 BBY, Four years into the reign of Emperor Palpatine
Ardus and Commander de Maquel jumped up, checking themselves quickly.  Only a few cuts and bruises were evident, so the two Imperials charged outside to where the blast originated.

The streets of Ladrooine were not beautiful at the best of times (especially to Ardus, a man who hailed from the paradise of Alderaan), but at the moment it had reached a new level of bad.  The terrorist blast had left a large crater in the centre of the street, obliterating the fronts of many nearby shops and businesses, and worse, leaving bodies scattered about.  Most were injured, but Zail could see at least four lying completely still with wounds that the Clone Wars veteran knew were fatal.

“Kriff it!” Spat the Commander, reaching to the comlink at his side.  “Blazing Crown we have a situation here.  Contact the planetary garrison and have them bring in their Stormtroopers ASAP.  Tell them to lock down the city while we sort this out.”

Ardus listened, knowing that his superior’s orders were not unreasonable.  Locking down a city in the Core worlds would be impossible, but Ladrooine’s capital was barely the size of a small town.  “How can I help?” Asked Zail.

De Maquel looked around, as if seeking someone to punish for this atrocity, and though his hand rested on the gun on his hip, he did not draw it.  Deciding against dispensing justice, he turned to Ardus.  “Let’s help the wounded,” He said, and together they helped people onto the ambulance speeders that were already rushing to their position.

It was the first time that Zail had seen the dead and dying since the war, and he found that he did not miss it.

-----

“What did you see?” Roared de Maquel for the fifth time.  Flanked by a squad of Stormtroopers, he and Zail were questioning the locals in the street.  One of them, an alien local, now cowered at the feet of the Imperials, being stubbornly silent in the face of the Commander’s enquiries.

Ardus regarded the kneeling non-human, his first real look at a native of Ladrooine.  They were a short and stocky race, almost as broad as tall, and their faces were scrunched and ugly with dull grey skin that matched the colouring of the nearby mountains.  The Gunnery Chief did not know what to make of them.

“Did you see anything?” Asked de Maquel again.  “Answer me!”

The alien did not so much as look up at the human.

“I think he’s scared, sir,” Ventured Ardus at his superior’s side.

“No, Mr Zail,” The Commander corrected him.  “I think he knows something about the attack.  Troopers, take him in for a more detailed interrogation!” And so saying the white-armoured soldiers of the Empire grabbed hold of the man and half-carried, half-dragged him to a waiting transport.

Having run out of witnesses, de Maquel stood and surveyed the clean-up efforts in the street, a scowl on his face.

“Considering your next move, sir?” Asked Zail.

The Commander nodded.

“May I ask...” Began Ardus, but hesitated.  He was not sure how to phrase his question in a way that did not make it inappropriate for his superior officer.

“Why am I so set on finding the terrorist responsible?” Asked de Maquel for him.

“Yes.  With all due respect, sir, this is not a job for the Imperial Navy.”

“Wrong, Mr Zail,” Said the Commander sternly.  “Routing out sedition is a task for all loyal subjects of the Emperor.  That these terrorists are aliens only confirms the need to stamp Imperial authority on them.”

The sudden passion, sudden anger in de Maquel’s voice, caught Ardus by surprise.  “Sir, what does their race have to do with it?” He asked carefully.

The Commander glanced about, checking that there was nothing else in the street that required his attention, and decided that he had time to talk to Ardus.  “Come, let us chat in private, Mr Zail.”

-----

The two men took a transport back to the local garrison base on the outskirts of the city.  The building was of the standard prefabricated eight-level design, a home for not just Stormtroopers, but also TIE fighters, walkers and speeders.  Zail knew that such a place was overkill for the tiny nearby city, and realised that this base was instead the centre of Imperial power for the entire planet.

In a small conference room, de Maquel sat down and gestured for Zail to do the same.  “There is a great change sweeping the galaxy,” Began the Commander.  “The Empire is bringing peace and order, but it is not easy.”

Ardus nodded.  “I have seen it,” He said.  “Trust me, Commander, if you are about to give me some loyalty test, do not worry.  I have compared the Empire and the Republic and I am more than happy with how things are now.”

“I know you are,” Said the XO with a smile, “And I have no reason to question your loyalty.  However, loyalty comes in various levels, and I need to ensure that yours has the right level of dedication.  Hard choices are coming, sacrifices will be necessary to further the Empire and ensure its success.”

“And aliens are not able to make these hard decisions?” Asked Zail, wondering what this had to do with his superior’s strange prejudices.

“Correct,” Said de Maquel.  “The greatest leaders of the Clone Wars, from the Emperor to Anakin Skywalker, and even Dooku, were all humans.  Our race has long been the most numerous and influential, the greatest shapers of the galaxy.  Now the Emperor has charged us alone with steering civilisation to greatness.”

Ardus could not deny a certain pride at hearing the words, and part of him liked the idea what he was born into a chosen race.  Still, he had never thought ill of other races, and felt compelled to speak up for them.  “There are other great sentients,” He said.  “Greatness can be measured many ways.  Wookiees are stronger than us, Givins better at mathematics...”

“But none have the same all-round talents that we do,” Insisted de Maquel firmly.  “We humans need to take charge of the Empire, and support the Emperor as best we can in not just remaking the Navy and the government, but the very fabric of galactic civilisation itself.”

“Quite a responsibility,” Said Zail, not knowing exactly what to make of all this.

Seeing that the Gunnery Chief was at least open to his ideas, de Maquel reached to his side and passed Ardus a datapad.  “This is a... a manifesto, by the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order.  It lays out the society that the Emperor wants to build,” Said the Commander.  “I am a member of COMPNOR, and I hope that you come to understand and accept what we are doing.”

Zail lifted the datapad and flicked through a few pages.  There was a lot of reading there, and it would take him some time.  “I shall look over this,” He promised.

“Thank you,” Said de Maquel.  “If you like the direction of the New Order, then there could be a place for you in the next crop of Blazing Crown candidates for officer training,” Added the XO.

Ardus raised an eyebrow.  It was an interesting offer, and he understood it at once.  The New Order was reshaping the Navy, and if Zail could not accept that, he would never be an officer.

Yes, he vowed, he would have to think on this most carefully.

Suddenly, the door to the conference room opened, and an officer flanked by two Stormtroopers walked in.  The man, who bore the rank of a lieutenant, saluted smartly in Commander de Maquel’s presence.

“Sir!  There is news!  We have a lead on a terrorist cell operating inside the city,” Announced the lieutenant.  “We are preparing to hit their base immediately.”

De Maquel rose quickly and gestured to Ardus to follow.  “I want to be there!  Mr Zail, come with us.”

-----

By the time they arrived on the scene, the local Stormtroopers were out in force.  The terrorist cell was holed up in some non-descript hovel of a building, which three squads of the white armoured Imperial soldiers had surrounded.  De Maquel and Zail arrived in a speeder behind the Stormtrooper lines, and disembarked with blaster pistols drawn.

The Commander walked over to the uniformed soldier in charge, a Major who, despite their different service branches, deferred to de Maquel’s rank.  “They in there?” Barked the naval officer.

The Major nodded, and handed de Maquel a portable speaker.  Raising it to his lips, the XO bellowed at the building, “This is the Empire!  We have the premises surrounded!  Surrender now and we will show mercy!  This is your only warning!”

No response.  After a few moments wait, the Commander turned to the assembled Imperials, his blaster drawn.  “Okay, let’s go!” He ordered, and charged forwards.

The soldiers fell in alongside him, closing quickly to the building and blasting their way inside with a barrage of rifle shots.  The old wooden door caved swiftly before the onslaught, and instantly shots poured out from the alien terrorists within.

A couple of troopers went down, but the rest poured through into the home.  Among them, de Maquel was side-by-side with Zail.  It had been a long time since Ardus had been in a fire fight, and he still thought that this sort of thing was not a job for naval men, but he was not about to endanger his career by holding back with a superior officer present.

Inside the dimly lit main room, grey-skinned aliens crouched behind makeshift barricades made of furniture and fired back at the Imperials.  Zail dived for cover himself, sheltering behind a chair, and fired back.  He squeezed off a trio of shots, one of them clipping a Ladrooinian in the shoulder and spinning him unconscious to the ground.

Meanwhile the Stormtroopers were making short work of every non-human in sight.  Within a single furious minute the main room was cleared, and de Maquel led the charge off through a door into other parts of the terrorist hideout.

Ardus marvelled at the man’s courage (or was it fanaticism?) and followed.

-----

The place was soon subdued, with minimal Imperial casualties.  Though armed with CIS weapons, the terrorists turned out to be even worse shots than battle droids.  Several of them were taken alive and conducted to the garrison for interrogation.  Though he was technically on shore leave, Zail opted to help out where he could in the ongoing investigation into the terrorists, something that de Maquel did not fail to notice.

Eventually they and the rest of those crewman on the surface returned to the Blazing Crown.  Zail was glad to be back on the clean ship and away from the dirtball of a planet below.  Soon the Star Destroyer had plotted its course away from Ladrooine, and with a silent rumble the warship had made the jump to hyperspace.

A few days later, Ardus was overseeing one of the gunnery crews, conducting a conversation with several subordinates.  Suddenly, there was a long whistle across the ship’s internal communications, signalling that a ship-wide announcement was about to be given.  Zail and all other crewmen ceased chatting and focused intently on what was to come.

“Attention crew of the Blazing Crown,” Came the breath-mask muffled voice of Captain Var Jraan.  “It is with heavy heart that I speak to you today.  After much soul-searching, I feel that it is time that I moved on.  Since its maiden voyage, I have captained this proud ship and its fine crew, but now I feel that it is time for me to retire.”

There were gasps all around, with some gunners like Drobi staring dumbfounded at the news.  Captain Jraan and the Blazing Crown were, to most of the crew, almost synonymous entities.  Thinking of one without the other was.... well... unthinkable!

“I have spoken to Admiral Al-Dat on the matter, and he has accepted my decision,” Continued the Captain’s voice.  “In my place, Commander de Maquel, who has been with this vessel as long as I have, shall take command.  I know that the Blazing Crown is safe in his hands.  There will be more on this in the coming days, but for now I felt it fair to let you all know what is happening.  Thank you all.”

And with that, the communication ended, and a buzz of conversation discussing it immediately erupted all over the Star Destroyer.

-----

A week later and Captain Jraan had a farewell party in the mess hall the likes of which the crew of the Blazing Crown had never seen.  Even the victory party at the end of the Clone Wars paled in comparison, and Zail noticed that the command staff turned a blind eye to a lot of rules and regs violations during the chaos that ensued.  For the first time, the crew actually saw their captain moved to tears by the kind words and gifts that they offered him, and Ardus wondered if he would ever be so celebrated an officer some day.

Of course, first Zail would have to move beyond his Warrant Officer status and actually become an officer, and on that note, a few weeks afterwards, he was summoned to the captain’s office.

Captain de Maquel had already redesigned the office to his tastes, and as Ardus entered and saluted, he saw several pieces of art from de Maquel’s home world of Brentaal hanging upon the walls.  He also noticed a banner emblazoned with the crest of the Captain’s powerful merchant family, side-by-side with a large Imperial emblem.

“You wished to see me, sir?” Asked the Gunnery Chief.

“Yes, please,” Said de Maquel as Zail joined him at the desk.  “I wanted to know if you had thought anything more about what we discussed back on Ladrooine?”

Ardus expected this, and had indeed given the matter a lot of thought.  “I have read over the COMPNOR information you gave me, sir,” He said carefully.  “It was... bold.  While I have no problem with serving aliens, sir, I do understand that the Empire needs change, change that, perhaps, only humans can bring.  The Emperor’s vision of a New Order is just what the galaxy needs, and I can honestly say that I want to be part of it.  If that dream requires an Imperial Navy guided solely by human hearts and minds, then so be it.”

De Maquel smiled.  It was clear that Ardus had some reservations about some of the more racist ideas espoused by COMPNOR, but that was okay.  The Captain knew that the Alderaanian would come around fully in time.  “Well said, Mr Zail,” He said at last.  “You are hereby recommended to Prefsbelt IV for officer training!  Congratulations,” He said, leaning over to shake Zail’s hand.

Ardus returned the gesture, feeling a thrill run through him.  Within a month, Zail was shipped off to the Empire’s elite Naval Academy.  When he returned to the Blazing Crown, it was as a full officer.

OOC:

Word Count 2525.  I had to walk a fine line with this one.  I did not want Zail to become some fanatic alien-hater, as it would not fit in with his later joining the Vast Empire.  However, I could not keep him as a believer in Republic concepts of equality, as then he would never get promoted in the Imperial Navy.  Instead I cast him as reluctantly going along with it, almost convincing himself that the human domination is okay in order to further his career.

After Action Report: Ardus is now realising the truth of the Empire’s human domination, but Commander de Maquel is succeeding in bringing around to the idea.  De Maquel and Zail help bring down the terrorists on Ladrooine, and then succeed in pushing (alien) Captain Var Jraan into early retirement. The Commander becomes the new CO of the Blazing Crown.  Seeking to surround himself with fellow Core World humans, he sends Ardus for officer training.  Zail will return as a bridge officer. 

7 BBY, Twelve years into the reign of Emperor Palpatine
Lieutenant Ardus ‘Coldeye’ Zail stirred into wakefulness, blinking in the light that spilled through the open windows of his bedroom.  Life in space did not afford one such spectacular dawns, and he always had trouble staying asleep in the daylight when he was back on Alderaan.

As he sat upright, the door to the room opened and his wife wandered in, already up and clad in a red silken nightgown.  Sillana smiled.  “Ah good, you’re awake.  Hurry up and get ready.  Remember, we’re taking the kids to the zoo today.”

Yawning and stretching, Zail stared at her.  “Their mother is a vet!” He declared, bewildered by the situation.  “If they want to see animals, can’t you just bring some of your work home with you?”

“I do,” Said Sillana.  “However, Pherik never had a taste for riding thrantas and Geaden also wants something more.  Now, get dressed, and do your duty and spend your last day of leave with your family.”

The Imperial officer sighed.  “You’re more demanding than Captain de Maquel, you know.”

She flashed him a brilliant smile and threw him a shirt.

-----

At the Aldera City Zoo, the four Zails walked from exhibit to exhibit.  The youngest, ten year old Geaden, ran from habitat to habitat, identifying most of the exotic creatures without the need of the hologram information points.  Ardus marvelled at both the intellect and energy of his youngest.

“He takes after you,” He said to Sillana.  “The kid will make a fine vet.”

She nodded in agreement, having been thinking along the same lines.  “And Pherik, I think, takes after you,” She said, and gestured to the thirteen year old sitting quietly nearby.

Ardus frowned.  His eldest son had been pleased to go to the zoo, and showed excitement at some of the ‘cooler’ (read: lethal) animals, but generally he seemed engrossed in a datapad he had been reading from.  Curious, the father walked over and sat next to Pherik, while Sillana answered a flurry of Geaden’s questions about moths (of all things).

“What you reading son?” Asked Ardus, looking over the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s the official biography of Admiral Osvald Teshik,” Said Pherik.  “He’s had an amazing career, dad.  Hey, have you ever met him?”  Asked the teen, and there was no mistaking the excitement in his voice.

“No, son, I don’t get to rub shoulders with Admirals,” Said Ardus, taken aback both by the question and by the subject matter.  “Why have you got that, anyway?”

“School project,” Said Pherik.  “We have to write about our personal heroes.  Everyone else is writing about Senator Organa, but he’s boring.  I wanted to write about a hero of the Clone Wars, like you, dad.”

“I... I’m no hero, son,” Said Ardus, and though the mention of the War brought back painful memories, he hid them well.  “I just fought and did my duty.”

“I know, dad,” Said Pherik.  “That’s why I offered to write about you.  However, my teacher said no.  She wants us to write about someone from the history books.”

The father looked at his son, opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it.  His son wanted to write about him?  Ardus was too proud, and too flattered, for words.  Instead they just looked at each other, blue eyes to blue eyes, enjoying a strange father-son moment that neither could really understand.

They enjoyed the rest of the day at the zoo, but oddly, in the years to come, the thing that Ardus would remember most about that day was helping Pherik with his homework that evening.

-----

The shuttle touched down in the hangar of the Blazing Crown, disgorging a dozen crewmen who had been away on shore leave.  Highest ranked among them, Ardus stepped out first, and found a young Petty Officer standing waiting for him.

“Lieutenant Zail, sir!” Said the non-com with a sharp salute.  “The Captain and the other senior staff are about to begin a meeting.  They asked me to bring you to the command deck conference lounge the moment you arrived.”

“Understood,” Said Coldeye.  “Thank you,” And then he hurried off.

He proceeded directly to the bridge, and entered the meeting room.  Captain de Maquel was already seating at the head of the long polished table, with four other officers in attendance.  One was a 2nd Lieutenant and two others ensigns, so inferior in rank to Zail.  The last person present was the only man on the Star Destroyer (other than the Captain) who was Zail’s superior.  He was Lieutenant Commander Egrasl, the ship’s XO, an arrogant man who hailed from the Inner Rim.

“Ah, Lieutenant Zail, glad you could make it,” Said de Maquel warmly as Coldeye got seated.  “We can begin.”

The Captain gestured and the holo-emitter in the centre of the table came on.  It showed an asteroid field, with the majority of rocks rendered in green.  At the centre of the mass, a large asteroid was highlighted in red, and the image zoomed in on it. “Imperial Intelligence has been tracking a large smuggling operation, operating in the Jaso Sector.  The criminal filth is using this old asteroid outpost as their base of operations.  We are to lead a small squadron of capital ships to destroy it.”

Zail studied the image intently.  Penetrating asteroid fields was dangerous, especially for larger and less manoeuvrable capital ships.  Ardus understood at once why the Blazing Crown was going in.  Though their Star Destroyer was getting old, it was far smaller than the newer Imperial – Class, and so had more chance of reaching the target base without being smashed.

“Questions, comments?” Asked de Maquel, always very open with his senior staff.

“I would like to know more about this base of theirs,” Said Zail.  “Did the smugglers build it, or co-opt it from others?”

“It’s an antique,” Said Commander Egrasl dismissively, pointedly ignoring the question.  “Imperial Intelligence has assured us that it dates from the Draggulch Period, and shall be no threat.”

His tone indicated the contempt that Egrasl held for Zail’s contribution to the meeting.  The XO never liked Coldeye, and Ardus supposed at the First Officer viewed him as some sort of threat.  It was no secret that Captain de Maquel liked Zail, and had taken him under his wing.  Moreover, the Captain took High Command’s view that Core Worlders made the best officers, and Egrasl, hailing from the Inner Rim, would never be part of that elite.  Many of the crew felt that the XO pushed so hard because he felt he had something to prove.

Zail, however, knew how to push back.  “So this base is a thousand years old?  I think we have to assume that the place has been upgraded with modern weaponry.  Smugglers are scum, but they are not stupid.  This base represents an investment, and they have probably protected it with all sorts of illegal weapons.  Captain, I suggest caution in our approach.”

Egrasl stared at Ardus’s bold words, but de Maquel merely smiled.  “The Lieutenant is right, of course.  Regardless of the Intelligence reports, common sense must prevail.  We shall approach slowly but steadily, feeling out the enemy with fighters and picket ships first.”

“Yes, sir,” Said the XO, eyes locked firmly on Zail and full of anger.

Zail ignored the man, but wondered just how such a confrontational oaf had ever gotten so far in the Imperial Navy.

The meeting went on, and they finalised tactics for the attack.  The Blazing Crown rendezvoused with the rest of the capital ship squadron later that day, and then launched to hyperspace, heading for their target.

-----

The Blazing Crown slipped expertly through the asteroid fields, escorted by a Nebulon-B Frigate and a trio of Corvettes.  Zail had been assigned to the Navigation post, carefully tracking the flotilla’s approach to the target area.  Ardus watched the hologram before him, and felt a thrill at the idea of the upcoming battle.  A bunch of smugglers would be no match for five ships of the Imperial Navy.

At the front of the bridge, Captain de Maquel watched the large chunks of rocks fly past the viewport.  “Helm, distance to target?”

“Five kilometres, sir!” Came the prompt reply.

The Captain turned to the XO beside him.  “Proceed,” He said simply.

Lieutenant Commander Egrasl leapt into action immediately, turning on his heel and marching swiftly along the command walkway, barking orders.  “All fighters begin launching!  Gunnery crews power up and stand ready!  Communications, contact the other ships and order them to fan out and approach in the attack pattern we planned.”

Using Zail’s navigational data, the flotilla had closed on the smuggler base by hopping from the shadow of one large asteroid to another.  Now the Imperial ships emerged from cover and charged at the smuggler base.

The battle was on.

-----

The sneak attack had worked well, and the smugglers seemed to have been caught unawares.  The asteroid base, a large red-brown rock with small buildings and launch bays sprouting from its rocky surface at random angles, hurriedly disgorged a large number of ships.  Mostly cobbled-together Ugly starfighters, but also modified transports crammed with weapons, rushed to meet the attacking Imperials.

TIEs and smuggler fighters clashed in high-speed chaos, their normally dangerous engagement made more-so by the unpredictable presence of fast-moving small asteroids.  For a few minutes the smugglers seemed to be holding their own, with casualties on both sides being roughly level.  Then the Imperial capital ships arrived.

As soon as they were within firing range, they opened fire, but so did the station.  As Ardus has predicted, the smugglers had indeed armed their base with modern weapons, and dozens of shots erupted from a score of hidden turrets and emplacements, raining fire upon the oncoming forces.  The Blazing Crown rocked under a volley of impacts, and instantly the bridge was ringing with damage reports and shield strength updates.

“Return fire!” Ordered de Maquel, and Egrasl hurried to relay the command.  Quickly the Star Destroyer rained lasers on the asteroid base, but a combination of heavy shielding and tough metal deposits in the rock kept damage to a minimum.

Again the Blazing Crown shuddered under the fire from the base, and de Maquel scowled.  “What’s the status of the target?” He snapped at a sensor operator.

“Ninety eight percent shield strength, sir,” Came the reply.  “We are barely damaging it.”

The Captain cursed and looked to his XO, but Egrasl had no ideas.  Both they and the enemy were hitting each other as hard as they could, but it seemed that the shields of the Imperial vessel would fail before their foe’s did.

Ardus knew what was happening and resolved to do something about it.  Summoning a junior bridge officer to take his station, the former Gunnery Chief made his way across the bridge to the man who now served in his old post.

“Drobi,” He said quickly, “How much power are you ordering the crews to divert to the weapons?”

“We are currently at one hundred and two percent of recommended safety,” Replied the younger man.  “I don’t know how long we can keep going at that rate without frying the systems.”

Ardus nodded and turned and hurried across the command walkway.  Striding up to the Captain and the Lieutenant Commander, he said, “Captain, I believe we can boost weapons power!”

Egrasl glared at Zail, angered instantly by the fact that the lower ranked officer had bypassed him and gone straight to the Captain.  “Lieutenant!  There is a chain of command on this ship and you should follow it!” He snapped.

Captain de Maquel ignored the impropriety, however, and urged Ardus to continue.  “Let’s hear it, Zail,” he said.

“We can boost power to the weapons systems by another ten percent, maybe a bit more,” Said Zail quickly.  “That should help us punch through those shields all the faster.”

“You are no longer Gunnery Chief,” Snarled the XO.  “If you had bothered to check with your successor, you would know that we are already above the safety limit for those guns!”

“And the limit is wrong,” Said Ardus firmly, glaring down Egrasl and then turning his gaze on the Captain.  “Sir, I have operated those guns since the day that they and this ship first went into battle.  I know they can handle it, but only for ten minutes or so.”

Egrasl snorted.  “After which we can’t fire at all!”

“The rate we are taking damage,” Said de Maquel, “We will be crippled well within ten minutes anyway.”

Zail nodded.  “Indeed, sir.”

“Do it!” Ordered the Captain firmly, and then pre-empted his XO's protest with a silencing glance.

Ardus spun on the spot and promptly returned to the Gunnery Chief.  Drobi, his former subordinate, was eager to listen to Zail, and responded quickly to his orders.  A few moments of redirecting power and over-riding safeties, and the Blazing Crown’s weapons roared with new life and vigour.

Zail preyed that it would enough.

-----

As the Star Destroyer’s shields teetered on the brink of collapse, the asteroid base’s shields began to weaken enough for random shots to get through.  Unlike the random fire of the smugglers, however, the Imperial gunners of the Blazing Crown were cunning and precise with their shots.  Here and there blasts landed on the enemy turrets, devastating them with pinpoint accuracy and reducing the fire that their foes could bring to bear.

The tipping point of the battle came and went, and it tipped in favour of the Empire.

The Blazing Crown’s shields began to stabilise even as their foe weakened, and though their weapons began to fail a mere minute later, the damage was done.  The rest of the flotilla seized the initiative and finished the work that they had started.

As the asteroid’s shields fell and its guns went silent, shuttles full of Stormtroopers launched from the Imperial capital ships.  The base fell within half an hour.

-----

In the aftermath of the battle, Ardus found himself summoned to the Captain’s office.  As per usual he stepped inside and waited for de Maquel to gesture to the guest chair before being seated.

“Excellent work back there, Lieutenant,” Said the Captain.

“Thank you, sir,” Replied Ardus.

De Maquel smiled.  “Egrasl was pretty angry at you, but I think he was just annoyed that he did not think of it himself.  He’s too much of a stickler for protocol and regs to push the ship that far beyond the safety limits.  Still, it’s going to take days to repair some of the damaged power conduits.”

“I stand by my decision, sir,” Said Zail confidently.

“You do, don’t you?” Mused the Captain.  “The sign of a fine officer, one of many signs in fact.  Which makes my next decision all the easier.  Lieutenant Zail, I am promoting you to Lieutenant Commander, effective immediately.  Congratulations!”

Ardus’s eyes went wide.  “I... thank you, sir!” He said, stumbling a little for words in the shock.

“Your first task shall be to draw up the crew roster for next month’s shifts,” Continued de Maquel.

“Sir?” Asked Ardus, confused.  “Isn’t that the XO’s job?”

“So it is,” Confirmed the Captain, “Which is why you are getting that post too!  Commander Egrasl is being re-assigned, and I need someone I can trust to fill his shoes.  Unless you don’t feel you can handle it...?”

“I shall do my best, sir!” Said Zail quickly.

“Excellent, Commander,” Said de Maquel, rising and shaking Ardus’s hand.

The Alderaanian soon left the office, feeling one very happy man.  This would be his best letter home to Sillana and the kids in a long time.

OOC:

Word Count 2618.  Ardus is now thirty-eight, and I have only just made him a Lieutenant Commander.  This slow advancement is a deliberate effort to keep with the established canon of the Imperial Navy, where the likes of Gilad Pelleaon attained the rank and station of Captain at the age of 55.  As for the reference to Admiral Osvald Teshik, this was intended to be Grand Admiral Teshik, but this part of the story is set five years before the creation of the rank of Grand Admiral.

After Action Report: Ardus enjoys some shore leave with his family, discovering that his son Pherik has become interested in Imperial Naval history, and his youngest son Geaden is showing all the signs of becoming a vet like his mother.  Later, Ardus ascends to the rank of Lieutenant Commander and XO of the Blazing Crown after their ship defeats a smuggling operation. 

The Battle of Yavin, Nineteen years into the reign of Emperor Palpatine
Commander Ardus Zail surveyed the bridge of the Blazing Crown with satisfaction.  After seven years as the XO of the old but still powerful warship, he and Captain de Maquel had forged the crew into a well-oiled machine.  Officers went about their duties with quiet competence and dedication, needing only the minimum of Zail’s time and attention.

Time and again Ardus had been praised for his leadership of the crew, and it was for this reason that his name was being floated around at High Command.  Rumour was that Zail was being lined up for a captaincy of his own ship.  Just what type of vessel did not matter (though one of the big Imperial – Class Star Destroyers would obviously be his first choice), Ardus was just eager for his own command.

He had mentioned his hopes for promotion in his last message back home to Sillana on Alderaan, but thus far his wife had no sent a reply.  She was normally more prompt with her letters from home, so Zail assumed she must be busy at work.  No matter, he would see her next month on his upcoming shore leave.

Suddenly, the internal coms officer spoke up.  “Commander, the Captain requests your presence in his office.”

“Very well.  Lieutenant Ureen, you have the bridge,” Said Zail, turning swiftly on the spot and marching towards the back of the command deck.  He did not bother to knock before entering, as he knew that if de Maquel summoned him then there was no need.  In he marched and snapped to attention before the desk at which the Captain was seated.

“Better sit down for this one, Ardus,” Said the CO solemnly.  In recent years, Alek de Maquel’s dark hair had greyed and his once slim goatee had filled out into a full (though trim) beard.  This had only added to the Brentaal man’s air of authority.  However, something about his tone of voice and his demeanour told Zail that something was wrong today.  The authority was gone, and sadness was in its place.

“Sir?” Asked Ardus, confused.  “Has something happened...?”

“Yes,” Said the other officer simply.  Reaching behind him to an array of shelves filled with medals and honours, he reached for a bottle of Corellian ale and, without even asking Zail, poured out two full glasses.  Handing one to the XO, the Captain went on.  “Drink, my friend.”

Ardus took a swig of the bitter-tasting drink, and fought off the guilt he felt at partaking of alcohol while on duty.  Whatever the other man was about to tell him it was serious.

De Maquel took a deep breath and then, as was his style, just went for it without preamble.  “Two days ago there was an incident involving the Rebel Alliance.  Imperial analysts are still working out the how, but the fact is that they hit Alderaan.”

Zail felt his stomach tighten, the lack of a message from home suddenly being cast in a new light.  “What... what did they do...?” He found himself asking.

“They blew up the planet,” Said the Captain bluntly before taking another sip of his ale.

“Wh... what?” Breathed Ardus, convinced that he had misheard.

“I’m so sorry, my friend,” Said De Maquel, and there was no mistaking the genuine concern and sorrow in his voice.  “Your world is gone, and your people...” He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

“My... family?” Asked Zail, his voice weak.  “Were there any survivors?”

The Captain shook his head.  “Whatever the Rebels did, it was fast.  I am afraid that your family... there is no hope, Ardus.  I... I can’t offer anything to console you...”

The CO seemed at a loss for words, the sheer magnitude of the catastrophe rendering him speechless.  Zail was beyond listening to him anyway, too lost in his own thoughts.  Images of his wife and youngest son swirled through his head, and his stomach churned as if he was about to be sick.  “May... may I be excused from my duties... sir?” He summoned the strength to ask.

De Maquel nodded.  “Please, take all the time you need, Ardus.”

The Commander did not even have the presence of mind to thank the other, as he turned and walked in a daze from the office.

-----

Tears and pain.  So much sorrow that Zail thought his body would crumple under the weight of it all.  Could you die from such despair?  Ardus had no idea, but at that time he was finding out.

Zail lay upon his bed, agonised merely by looking upon the hologram of his family that he kept by it.  How he had made it to his quarters he had no idea, and while he had summoned the focus to walk in straight line, but he could see the concern on the faces of every crewman he passed.  None of them knew about the destruction of Alderaan, but no-one could fail to miss the torment upon Ardus’s face and know for certain that something was wrong with the XO.

Hours passed, though how many he could not say.  At some point Zail slipped into sleep, but it brought him little respite from the horrors.  He dreamt of Sillana and young Geaden, ripped asunder by a great firestorm, though of course he had no idea of the specifics of their death.  And when Ardus awoke, for the most wonderful of brief moments he thought it was all a nightmare and nothing more.

And then the horrid reality sank in, and the pain returned anew.

Around his fourth or fifth time of waking, Zail rose to the sound of his door chime.  “Go away!” He called, though his voice was cracked and weak.

“Please, sir, I need to speak to you!” Spoke a person from the other side of the cabin door.

Ardus frowned.  He did not recognise the voice.  His first guess upon hearing the door chime was that it was one of the senior staff, probably even the Captain, as they were the only ones on board he allowed himself to get close to and call friends.  This voice was different, young, nervous.  Who was it?

Rising slowly from his bed, Zail looked down at the crumpled uniform he had neglected to remove, and tried to smooth it with his hand.  Quickly he decided that he did not care how he looked, and walked instead to open the door.

The person standing at the other side was a fresh-faced Petty Officer, one of hundreds of non-coms that filled out the roster of the Blazing Crown, and not one to whom the First Officer could put a name.  The man, plump of cheek and wide of eyes, was clearly nervous.

“Please, Commander Zail, I need to speak to you on a matter most urgent,” Said the boy, who could not have been past his mid-twenties.

Something about him got Ardus’ interest.  “Come in,” He found himself saying, stepping aside to permit the other entry and gesturing to a couple of chairs.  Once both men were seated, Zail asked, “Who are you?”

“My name is Elson, sir, Karl Elson.  I have come to speak to you about... Alderaan,” He said eventually, as if hesitant to speak the word aloud.

A shot of pain lanced through Ardus, but forced himself to stay focused.  “Are you...?” He asked, now searching for a familiar accent in the youngster’s voice.

“No,” Said Elson, “No, I am from Naboo, not Alderaan.  However, I have certain... friends who know of the destruction of your planet, and wish to help.”

“Help how?” Asked Zail, now deeply suspicious.

Elson pulled out a data disc.  “My friends pulled this from the Alderaan satellite grid just before the planet... before the end,” He amended, careful not to upset the Commander.  “We are showing it to all who will listen, who want to know the truth.”

“What truth?”

“The truth about what really happened,” Said the Petty Officer, “And who is really responsible.”  He handed the disc to Ardus, and then said, “I leave that for you to examine at your leisure.  I shall be back in twelve hours if you want to talk about it.  Until then, Commander,” He said quickly, and rose to depart.

Zail did not even notice Elson leave, and just stared at the disc in his hands.

-----

Ardus watched the video a dozen times or more.  It had been enhanced and enlarged from an image caught by chance, so the picture was a little grainy, but he saw what he needed to.

A grey moon, a battle station of colossal proportions, fired, and then the image was lost.  There was no fleet, no chain reactions of bombs, nothing in conventional warfare could explain the sheer power of a single shot reducing a planet to rubble.  Again and again he watched, his mind trying to get to grips with it all.

Also included in the data was a report on the ‘Death Star’, the battle station that he was watching.  The technical specs, the sheer size of the monstrosity, were almost beyond Zail’s ability to comprehend.

Elson’s data disc had rounded out the technical data with extracts and quotes from the official records of the Death Star’s construction.  Ardus did not need to read them to understand that this weapon had been built by the Empire.  The sheer size of the station indicated Imperial design, as no other power in the galaxy could even conceive of building such a thing.

He knew also that Elson had to be with the Rebel Alliance, for only they could and would get hold of and distribute this information.

Commander Ardus Zail sat in his room, a storm of thoughts running through his head.  His family were gone, his whole planet was gone, and the Empire to which he had dedicated nineteen years of his life was responsible!

It could not be!  His whole being stuggled against the impossibility of it, and he was too confused for rage or sadness, and instead he was lost in a limbo of emotional turmoil.  He felt like he had to do something but could not figure out what!  He felt like he was going mad!

He did the only thing he could, he slept, though again he found little respite in his dreams.

When Elson returned, Zail answered him at the door.

“I’m listening,” Said the Commander, and invited the Rebel into his quarters.

OOC:

Word Count 1750.  This was a big part of the story of Ardus Zail that I wanted to tell.  Ardus is a family man, and the loss of that family is devastating.  I read that the Empire originally lied about who destroyed Alderaan, but that the Rebels got the truth off world and spread it.  That added an extra dimension to the story that I had not originally intended, but it worked out well!

After Action Report: Commander Ardus Zail is shaken by the death of Alderaan.  He believes it was the Rebel Alliance that were responsible, until he is shown the truth to the contrary.  Now not sure who to believe and who to hate, Zail wrestles with his loyalty to the Empire and the ghosts of his family. 

4 ABY, The Battle of Endor
Ardus Zail stood stalwart at the side of his Captain, as he had for the last four years.  Four years since the loss of his home planet, four years since his son had stopped talking to him for siding with the Empire.  Ardus did not even know where Pherik was.  The younger Zail, the only other member of their family still alive, had left the University of Corulag before graduating and departed for the Outer Rim.  Ardus did not even know if his son was still alive anymore.

On his uniform, Ardus still wore the rank of Commander, something he had envisioned surpassing before now.  However, Naval High Command had not seen fit to pull out the Captain’s chair for a son of Alderaan, not with so many of his countrymen leading figures in the Rebel Alliance.  Yet Zail had born the stigma, proved himself time and again.  He was an Imperial, and had never hesitated in his duty or in carrying out his orders.

Such as now.

“Commander, commence the bombardment!” Barked Captain de Maquel.  In the viewport before them they could see a small space station, a minor refuelling depot at a remote hyperspace waypoint in the Mid Rim.  Over the last twenty minutes, the Blazing Crown and its smaller escort vessels had torn through a pathetic ragtag force of Rebel starfighters, leaving this depot, their base, defenceless.  And now the time had come to obliterate it, slaughtering all one hundred and fifty people within.

“Understood, sir,” Said Zail crisply, carrying out the order.  Turning to the Weapons Chief, he said, “Lock on all forward batteries.  You may fire when ready.”

The neon green beams erupted forth a split second later, tearing through the flimsy construction of the depot and igniting the massive fuel stores to explosively brilliant effect.  Ardus saw a few escape pods try to flee at the last moment, but they were engulfed by the expanding series of fireballs that had moments previously been their base.

Zail winced slightly at the bright display, but as the weapons fire of the Venator Star Destroyer died down and the din of the explosion dissipated, he was able to take a more thorough look.  Little remained of the Rebel base, and certainly none of their enemy had survived.

“Target annihilated,” Announced the Commander.

“Excellent,” Said Captain de Maquel, a smile on his lips.  “Stand down alert stations, recall our TIE fighters, and then set course for Bilbringi.  We are due there to dock and resupply for a few days.”  And so saying the CO marched off to his office to write up the mission report for their minor but important victory.

Ardus took command of the bridge and returned to his duties, the death of the Rebels swiftly forgotten from his mind.

-----

They exited hyperspace some time later, the expansive and amazing mechanised docks of the Bilbringi Shipyards spread out before them.  Zail used to love the times that the Blazing Crown was docked, allowing him to get off ship and see a new place.  Yet now the novelty had long since faded, and the sight of the shipyards just made him think of the mountain of paperwork he would have as many of the Star Destroyer’s crew requested shore leave.

“Incoming priority message from the Shipyard, sir!” Piped up the Com Officer in the crew pit.  “Its marked for the attention of the Captain!”

Ardus frowned, wondering what it could be about.  “Put it through to his office.  Then contact the shipyards and request permission to dock.”

It was a full quarter of an hour before a birth opened that was big enough for the Blazing Crown.  Though military ships were given docking priority over civilian ones, Zail could not help but notice the large number of Imperial Navy vessels at Bilbringi, and wondered if the delay to docking was due to so some large taskforce or operation being under way.

Eventually their time came, and Ardus ordered the pilot to take them in.  Once docking was complete, Zail was just about to give orders for repairs and resupply, when he noticed Captain de Maquel re-enter the bridge.

Right away he could tell that his friend and superior was not good.  In just the fifteen minutes since that priority message had come in from High Command, de Maquel seemed to have aged a decade.  His eyes were haunted, his shoulders and posture slumped, as if something had suddenly stolen the life from him.

“Sir, is everything okay?” Asked Ardus, concerned.  What could have happened?  Zail himself had looked that way on the day that he had been told about the destruction of Alderaan.  Was it that something had happened to the Captain’s family too?

“No, nothing is okay,” Said the Captain, his voice strange.  “Coms Officer!” He called towards the crew pit with as much strength as he could muster, “Put me on ship-wide speakers.  I have something to tell the crew.”

De Maquel took a deep breath, lifted a microphone to his mouth, and spoke into it.  His voice was as loud and as clear as always, for he was a Captain of the Imperial Navy and not given to mumbling or sounding weak.  Yet there was a hesitation to his words that Ardus had never heard, a deep and fearful uncertainty.

“Crewmen of the Blazing Crown,” He began, “This is your Captain.  It is with heavy heart that I must inform you of recent developments.  In the week since we departed on our last mission, there was an incident at an obscure Outer Rim world called Endor...”

He trailed off, and during the pause Zail’s mind raced.  Endor?  He had never heard of it.

“Our beloved Emperor himself,” Continued the Captain, “Nobly used himself as bait in a trap to ambush and eradicate the main fleet of the Rebel Alliance.  The trap...” De Maquel hesitated, and standing close at his side, Ardus could make out tears welling in his eyes.  “The trap... failed.  The Emperor... was killed,” He declared.

Gasps ran through the bridge, and no doubt through the entire Star Destroyer, at the revelation.  Zail’s eyes widened, the news hitting him with such force that his knees instantly went weak.  Every ounce of officer training and self-control he had was called on for him to remain standing tall, projecting strength for the crew, but inside his mind was thrown into instant turmoil.

“At the Battle of Endor,” Continued de Maquel, speaking quicker now that the truly horrific news had been spoken, “Lord Vader also perished, Grand Admiral Declann was killed, and Grand Admiral Teshik was captured.  The Executor, pride of the Navy, was destroyed, and the elite Star Destroyers of Death Squadron were routed.”

Ardus listened to the litany of disasters with growing dismay.  This was not possible!  In his wildest nightmares he could not have envisioned such a catastrophe!  The pure horror must have shown in his eyes, for de Maquel glanced at him, sympathy flashing across his face, and then the Captain concluded his address to the crew.

“Grand Vizier Sate Pestage has taken control of the Empire, with the backing of the Ruling Council.  For now, the Navy, and indeed the Empire itself, is depending on the strength and courage of loyal soldiers such as yourselves to see us through this dark time.  I have faith in you all, and I know you shall not let me down.”

And so saying he signed off, handed the microphone to the Com Officer, and walked silently off the bridge.

-----

The following weeks passed in a blur of activity, but none of it was positive.  Pestage proved to be a weak leader, and after a few bold Imperial leaders defied him, others soon followed suit.  The Empire began to fall apart, and Ardus and his ship found themselves at the mercy of a Navy High Command that no longer seemed capable of acting as a single entity.

Different admirals and Moffs gave and countermanded orders, sending the Blazing Crown rushing from one assignment to the next without any real clue if there was an over-riding plan or not.  Sometimes squabbling warlords gave contradictory orders, and to obey one admiral was to anger another.  Word had even reached Zail that some Imperials had begun firing on others, the signs of a growing civil war that the Grand Vizier and the Ruling Council seemed ever more incapable of averting.

In all this, Captain de Maquel, a true believer in Emperor Palpatine and a devotee of the New Order, was not faring well.  The crew needed their CO to be strong in this uncertain time, and he was anything but.  More and more often de Maquel left Zail in command of the ship, and on those rare occasions that the Captain did visit the bridge, he looked ever gaunter, more haggard, and too lacking in sleep.

Ardus did his best to hold things together, but it was tough.  He spoke often to the crew about having faith in the Empire, but he was no longer sure what Empire he referred to.  The administration on Coruscant claimed to be the true inheritors of Palpatine’s regime, but the squabbling members of the Ruling Council reminded Zail too much of the selfish Senators who led to the fall of the Republic.  Privately he began to admire the military leaders, admirals and generals, who struck out on their own.

Finally, the inevitable began to happen among the crew of the Blazing Crown, and Ardus had to take firm action.

“Are these them?” He asked to the Stormtrooper sergeant standing guard at the entrance to the Star Destroyer’s brig.

“Yes, sir,” Replied a firm voice behind the white helmet.  Gesturing to one of the cells, he pointed to a trio of crewman behind the shimmering blue force field.  “We captured them while trying to desert the ship.  They do not deny their crimes.”

Zail nodded and approached the cell.  Coming to a stop, he looked at each of them, non above the rank of Petty Officer, and saw them stare at him in turn.  “What have you to say?” He asked.

“Let us go!” Protested the bravest of the three.  “We want to go home!”

“You swore an oath to serve the Empire,” Said Zail.  “You cannot simply...”

“But we can!” Snapped the deserter, interrupting.  “The Empire is dead, Commander!  Everyone can see it!  Our home worlds have already fallen to the New Republic, and we want to go join them and leave this dead regime far behind!”

Ardus’s blue eyes, the source of his old name ‘Coldeye’, hardened with anger.  “The Empire is not dead!” He protested, but even as he spoke the words he wondered.  “I should execute the three of you for desertion and treason, but I have no idea when we are getting replacement crew.  So I shall leave you here for a few days to think over your actions.”

And so saying he departed.

-----

That evening, Ardus visited the Captain in the other’s quarters.  De Maquel was dressed in his uniform as usual, but it was unbuttoned and hung loose around his limp shoulders.  Zail felt terrible for the man.

“So I have left them there,” Concluded the Commander.  “Unless you would rather them executed?”

“No,” Said de Maquel, lifting a glass of ale to his lips.  He and Ardus were both seated, relaxed in private and away from the eyes and ears of the crew.  “No, there is no need to execute the crew for desertion when the Captain is considering it too.”

“Sir?” Asked the XO, surprised and suddenly concerned.

“I have been corresponding with Fleet Admiral Majere, who plans to break with the Empire.  We will join him,” Said de Maquel, sounding resigned to his course of action rather than enthusiastic.

“But... Captain...” Began Ardus.

“Its over, Pherik,” Said the other sadly.  “This new group that Majere plans to join, they call themselves the Vast Empire.  They believe in order and justice, and the strength of the military.  I am sure that this ship and this crew will be better off in their ranks than under that fool pretender Pestage.”

“I see,” Was all Zail could think to say.

“Part of the price of our loyalty was refuge for our families,” Continued de Maquel.  “The Vast Empire controls several habitable worlds.  I am already arranging for my sister’s family to move there.  The same courtesy will be extended to the rest of the crew.  If they have loved ones in Imperial space and they can make the journey, they had best do it soon, before Intelligence learns of Majere’s plans and goes after our kin.”

“Are you certain about this, sir?” Asked Ardus.

The Captain shrugged.  “I am certain about nothing anymore, my friend.  But we can’t stay here.  Sooner or later the Empire will fracture into an all-out shooting war.  We need to choose sides now, so the choice is made.”

“I shall inform the crew,” Said Zail.

“Thank you, Ardus,” Said the CO.  “You have been the best XO I could ever hope for, and you deserve better than what you have got.  Maybe the VE will look past your Alderaanian heritage and give you the Captaincy you deserve.”

“Thank you, sir,” Said Ardus, and then excused himself.

It was the last time he would see Captain Alek de Maquel alive.

-----

They found his body in the Captain’s quarters the following afternoon, killed by a blaster bolt to the head.  There was no hint of foul play, and Zail knew at once that his friend had taken his own life.  Ardus stood over the body with some guards and medics, and felt a sadness he had not known since the loss of Alderaan.

“Sir, we found this,” Said one of the Stormtroopers on the scene, handing the Commander a datapad.  Ardus took it and read the suicide note there-on.

To Pherik

I am sorry that it had to end this way, my friend.  I do believe that the Vast Empire is best for you and the rest of the crew, but good as it may be, it is not my Empire.  What I believed in died at Endor, and now there is no reason for me to go on.

Take care of my sister and her family, they are all that survive me.  I always regarded family as important, and yet I never took a wife of my own.  Just one more regret, I suppose.  I do hope that one day you and Pherik can patch things up, and I know how much you long for that day too.

As my final act, I hereby wish it known that you are to inherit the Blazing Crown after me.  Congratulations on your overdue promotion, Captain Zail.

Your friend, Alek de Maquel

“Good bye, sir,” Said Ardus to the corpse, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

OOC:

Word Count 2493.  Obviously, given the fact that no Venator Star Destroyers were present at the Battle of Endor, I could not put Ardus in that key event.  Nor was I ever intending to.  I wanted to take this chance to show how I think loyal Imperials would have reacted to the sudden and unexpected death of a man who had led the galaxy for over thirty years.  I found Fleet Admiral Majere in the wiki’s history page, and figured I’d try to tie my story as closely to the founding of the Vast Empire as I could.

After Action Report: The Blazing Crown is participating on an attack on a minor Rebel base.  They win, but news reaches them of the death of the Emperor.  Like many Imperials Ardus is dismayed, but it is Captain de Maquel who takes the news the most badly and commits suicide.  Ardus becomes Captain in his stead.