Imperial Storm VII Mid Campaign Fiction

Background

This fiction by Sector Admiral Kamjin serves as a mid-campaign update to Imperial Storm VII. It can also be accessed here: https://tc.emperorshammer.org/view_fiction.php?id=448

The Interview

“How long has she been in there?” Sector Admiral Kamjin Lap’lamiz asked the stormtrooper standing outside the brig. The dull red lights cast haunting shadows across the trooper’s now blood red hue.

“She’s been confined for three days since her capture. No one has been in to see her in the last twenty-four hours,” the trooper responded. Kamjin glanced at the door. Even without the Force he could feel the anxiety and fear seeping through. He ran his hand through his scruff of a beard. It was sooner than he’d prefer but the fleet was going to be within striking distance of the Fuel Depot in a matter of days. He’d have to chance it.

Kamjin gave a nod and the stormtrooper opened the door. The lone woman sat in the barren, metallic, Imperial cell. The dull lighting barely illuminated her chiseled features. Her auburn hair had once been in a tight double bun but strains had started to fall out. The light cash an odd hue over her almost pearly white skin while her slightly upturned nose and pouty lips gave her a childish look. The binders hummed as they constricted her hands in front of her. Kamjin stepped into the room and before the door could finish closing the prisoner spoke.

“Lieutenant Mira Valith, Cargo Transport Pilot. Serial number FO-319123025,” Mira recited with military precision. Despite the dire situation she found herself in her voice floated like a melody on the wind over a summer glade. Kamjin’s eyes narrowed as he took this in. He had not expected her to be so…young. Perhaps he was showing signs of his own aging and being a family man…even an estranged family man, made him think that these conflicts were more suited to his generation.

Stepping into the cell, he activated the in-built chair that rose from the floor. Gathering his thoughts he sat down, straightening out his olive-gray tunic. He had opted to wear the standard duty uniform with no embellishments nor rank badge. Only the command code cylinders gave any indication that he was an officer. Mira’s face, to the best of her ability, tried to stay impassive. Her eyes gave her away. They darted between Kamjin’s face, his gloved hands resting idly on his legs, the door that so briefly gave her a glimpse of freedom.

“Hi Mira, are you thirsty?” Kamjin asked, giving his characteristically disarming smirk of a smile.

“Lieutenant Mira Valith, Cargo Transport Pilot. Serial number FO-319123025,” Mira recited again, though Kamjin thought there was a hint color on her checks that had nothing to do with the lighting in the cell.

“Maybe later then, after we’ve talked. Are you doing well? Did the medics check you out when you got here?”

“Lieutenant Mira Valith, Cargo Transport Pilot. Serial number FO-319123025.”

Kamjin smiled and crossed his legs. “I see the First Order has trained you well. You said you’re a Lieutenant. You seem young to be a Lieutenant, is this your first posting?”

“Lieutenant Mira Valith, Cargo Transport Pilot. Serial number FO-319123025.”

“Mira, I’m not the enemy here. You’re restrained only because it’s standard procedure. I’m sure you understand that if the positions were reversed you’d have to do the same. No one here wants to hurt you. We’re all on the same side.”

“We are not on the same…Lieutenant Mira Valith, Cargo Transport Pilot. Serial number FO-319123025,” Mira shifted uneasily.

“Why are we not the same?” Kamjin asked. Mira sat silent this time. “I have served the Empire since I was a child. Your iconography clearly has Imperial origins. Your ship designs are based upon Imperial designs. Your flight suits are clearly an evolution of our Imperial designs.”

Mira pursed her lips. Kamjin could see the struggle of wanting to respond. Clearly whatever indoctrination the First Order had done was in conflict with her military training. “Is it because we’re directly continuing the Emperor’s directives while the First Order is seeking to imitate the Imperial dream?”

Mira scowled and looked away. “I was trained in the Imperial Academy. Did you know that? I served in the Imperial Navy before Endor. There was no First Order division then. So, I’m curious, are we not the same because you’re not really Imperial?” Kamjin uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

Mira snapped her head back, staring hard at Kamjin. “If you were truly Imperial, why didn't you participate in Operation Cinder? Why weren’t you at Jakku? Why aren’t you with us now?”

“What are you doing now?” Kamjin picked up the pace of his questions. He had her.

“We are trying to bring order to the galaxy.”

“How?”

“You’ll see. Soon you’ll all see.”

“What? A fleet? We’ve seen your ships, they aren’t concerning us.”

“You have no idea.”

“Let’s talk about what I do have an idea of,” Kamjin said, standing up suddenly. Mira’s eyes flashed in panic. “I’m having a conversation with one Lieutenant Mira Valith. A rather capable cargo and shuttle pilot in service of the First Order. She’s the daughter of a mid-level data analyst who works within the First order’s science division. He’s a rather uninspiring individual who won’t be getting that promotion he’s been trying for the last several years,” Kamjin began to pace slowly in front of Mira. Her eyes followed him as if he were a crystal snake preparing to strike.

“I know you, just like your father, aspire for something greater. I know that you’ve been overriding the simulator pits to practice on those TIE Fighters the First Order uses. Did you know that Commander Velasco is aware of your activities?” Mira gasped and then shut her mouth. “Ah, I see you didn’t. He has known for a while and he’s been the one bypassing the security notices to allow you to practice. Clearly he sees something in you. I’m sure if we had a civil conversation I would see the same,” Kamjin turned and smiled. Mira’s face was contorted in thought. How did he know this about her? How did he know about Commander Velasco? Was it pride in knowing her superior was recognizing her abilities? Was it pride in knowing that her enemy saw the same? Mira wetted her lips. Kamjin stopped pacing, staring down at her. She leaned forward, rocking on her seat. Kamjin smirked.

“Lieutenant Mira Valith, Cargo Transport Pilot. Serial number FO-319123025,” Mira said, slumping her shoulders and staring down at her binders.

“You are wasting my time!” Kamjin raised his voice. His eyes flashed the horrid yellow-red that marked those who had dived into the Dark Side of the Force. Mira snapped her head up and gasped as she tried to bury herself against the wall.

“No…No. You have his eyes!” Mira screeched as she tried to shrink herself.

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me about…him,” Kamjin sneered as he sat down again.

The Call

Hours later, Kamjin emerged from the cell. “Get her some food and water,” his voice cracked from exhaustion. Looking back at the crumpled form of Mira, he added, “Make sure she actually eats it.”

The stormtrooper saluted as the door locked itself but Kamjin was already down the corridor lost in thought. She hadn’t known a name, referencing only the ‘shadow’ or ‘mysterious man’. At one point she even called him ‘the consultant’ which was as telling as it was cryptic. A figure in a black cloak and robe with red trim. He definitely fit the historical profile that one thought of when it came to the Sith. If not for the reference to his eyes Kamjin would have dismissed him as another fraud. The galaxy was rife with people pretending to be Jedi who survived the purge or Sith operating from the shadows. But…it’s hard to dismiss the eyes. It’s one of the reasons Kamjin trained so hard to control his emotions to not betray himself. He had been right to chance it in showing them to Mira.

The Avenger was alive with the preparations for the upcoming fight. Kamjin felt his pulse quicken as the latest alarm klaxon sounded the next drill. They were ready for the First Order but…were they ready for what would come next? He stepped into his quarters and activated the comm. “Comms,” the curt response came.

“Connect me with Darth Surgo immediately,” Kamjin said as the line chirped in acknowledgement. Moments later the shadowy figure of Darth Surgo shimmered to life from Kamjin’s holoprojector.

“There is a Force user in play. Whether he’s a Sith is not known by our captive,” Kamjin said.

“We have had similar challenges in gaining insights…”

“What do we know?”

“We have a name. Voran Nexis,” Darth Surgo said. Kamjin ignored the look of accomplishment that harkened a desire for praise. Kamjin was not in the mood to give praise for something so trivial. Voran Nexis…the consultant.

“Keep at it,” Kamjin snapped the holoprojector off. Whoever this man was, Kamjin was not going to let them control the board.

The Lower Levels

“What are they doing up there?” Nyra Korr let a series of curses fly as the panel she was working on showered her with sparks. “Awrgh!” she brushed the sparks out of her braids. Her ebony skin was covered with grease but her brown eyes shone with a passion and rage as she ripped out the module she had spent the last three hours installing that was now molten slag. Ever since the raid they had been pulling triple shifts to get their tanker back up and running. Being left to float in the dead of space when another battle may be coming was not what their Captain wanted to experience.

She had seen the attack. It was old Imperial designs, relics really being nearly thirty years old. The Captain had said it had been raiders but they didn’t look like any raiders she’d seen before. Raiders were disjointed, they had a hodge podge collection of ships, they were easily spooked. These were military fighters. Nyra shook her head at the stupidity of lying to them as she took out her plasma torch and began slicing out the damaged relays to get a clean connection to split off of.

“Are you finished?”

Nyra jumped at the unexpected voice, her plasma torch scorching the panelling behind the relay. “No, I’m not done,” she said, turning around to come face to face with Darrek Kryze. His silvery Beskar armor and Mandalorian helmet reflected Nyra’s dirty face back at her. The blue accents on the visor seemed out of place to the ashen body glove he wore under his armor.

“You said you’d be done by now,” Darrek said, pointing at what clearly was the beginning of a new project.

“I would have been but that part was slag,” Nyra retorted pointing at the molten component on the floor.

“Get it done. We anticipate incoming fighters soon.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? I thought Mandalorians were supposed to handle anything or was that just legends?” Nyra thought Darrek was sneering at her. “Now if you’re not here to help me work then get out of my way.”

What Happened?

Grand Marshal Hoshiko Takeda smashed her fist onto the display table. The latest reports were coming in and the Emperor’s Hammer’s forces were continuing their advance. The once calm control room was abuzz with officers trying to redeploy their forces to protect HydroStation 77.

Commander Taron Velasco saluted as he approached Takeda. Takeda took no notice as she dialed up a new star chart and scowled.Taron cleared his throat. “Yes, Commander?”

“The Impaler and Retribution have redeployed closer to the depot but the Emperor’s Hammer’s forces are continuing to advance. The Mandalorians are positioning themselves in a support role but…” Taron looked around before lowering his voice. “We should consider evacuating yourselves and the senior staff.”

Takeda stood up. Her golden brown eyes boring into the Commander. “Explain yourself?” she said in a hushed voice.

“There is a risk that their forces will get past our defenses. They have a Super-Star Destroyer lurking and if that were to be brought in we could be cut off. Better to evacuate our critical personnel and then attempt to move the depot.”

“If we fill up the depot to make a jump we’ll waste all the fuel we’ve refined this cycle. Not to mention we’ll lose this location. That’s…”

“You are more important than…”

“Stop,” Takenda said, her voice carrying. The room fell unnaturally silent. Takenda looked around and the room knew it was best to resume their activities. “I am not going to abandon my post when we still have three Resurgent-class Star Destroyers at our disposal. Now your job is to ensure this annoyance is quashed before…” Takeda trailed off as an alert came through signalling an incoming transmission. “I need to take this,” she said briskly and left for her office.

As soon as the doors sealed behind her the holoproject sprang to life. A cloaked figure appeared though his face was shrouded by his hood. “The Supreme Commander is displeased with your handling of the situation.”

“I understand. The Emperor’s Hammer forces have taken us by surprise with their fierceness. I have redeployed my forces and will repel their assault on this depot,” Takeda replied, sweat forming on her brow.

“That better be the case, Grand Marshal. Otherwise, I shall have to pay you a visit for a consultation,” the voice threatened as it faded out. Takeda found herself trembling as she turned to look out the windows. Perhaps it would be prudent to arrange for evacuating the depot.