I adjust my uniform slightly as I look at the civilian shuttle about to land within the Regional Command Station. This meeting could probably been held elsewhere, but the Nimbanel had insisted we meet. Interesting folk those Hutt space residing reptilians. A very intense love of information and bureaucracy from what I had been informed of by a Nimbanel Marshal’s Agent I had on Junkfort Station.

  The shuttle finishes landing and her ramp opens to reveal a gaggle of five Nimbanel, all but one wearing fine suits in the Raxus style, the last one wearing a slightly more fine suit in the latest Coruscanti style. Well, I couldn’t be too surprised that most of the owners of Hoersch-Kessel Drive would be mostly ex-Separatist. I roll my shoulders a moment then approach the representatives, my escort of two arms-men, two Adjutants and R4 falling in behind me.

  “Greetings Mr. Mullo.” I say to the lead Nimbanel wearing the Coruscanti style suit.

  The chairman and primary overseer of the Garel Fighter Plant smiles as he returns me greetings: “Fleet Admiral Dericote. It is a pleasure to see you once more. I would introduce you to my various Clan-members.”

  A series of polite words are exchanged before I motion for Mullo to join alongside me as we walk through the large hallways of the former logistics hub turned command station. It’s a relatively quick walk to the conference room chosen to host this meeting between the Empire and Hoersch-Kessel.We all take our seats once inside, R4 plopping herself down beside me as I take the offered datapad from one of my Adjutants.

  I quickly skim over the information and nod to myself before speaking: “I can admire your perseverance.”

  “So you will not be supporting our new prototype?” Mullo deduces.

  “The Empire’s upper leadership already has their favorite. They want Kuat to make the next series of fighters unless something truly extraordinary comes across someone’s desk. This prototype is extraordinary in only a single facet and … standard in all others.” I say as an Adjutant finishes punching in the codes to display the three winged, angular starfighter on the circular table.

  “You do not believe it will be accepted even if you support it.” A Raxus style garbed Nimbanel deduces.

  “I like your previous work. Maker knows the Starchaser is both easy to train rookies on, can easily fit in a cramped hangar and has the endorsement of my Starfighter Corps Attache. I’m rather partial to it myself and will likely hold off on giving them up from my formations for as long as practical, but I don’t think your R60 T-Wing is the product that will replace it.”

  “Yet you support our Starchaser model.”

  “I have both sponsored the factory for the model on Garel and approved its expansions.” I reply easily.

  “So why not the T-Wing?”

  “My Attache doesn’t trust the maneuverability you are selling. She believes it’s turn radius and adaptability will be maybe two thirds of what you promise for all but the most experienced pilots and a third of what’s promised for rookies. That is simply not good enough for what you demand.”

  “Very well.” Mullo concedes, “As for the secondary reason for our presence. We hear you are interested in our frigates and the designs our R&D groups have worked on for the Separatists?”

  “On the one hand, Munificents were a pain to fight, so any possible upgrade packages should be … secured. On the other hand, the Empire is in dire need of logistical and communications ships. Perhaps a … change in appearance alongside a disarming of the ships will do your corporate budget some good.”

  “You are insinuating we can just switch production at the drop of a hat.” One chairman complains.

  “Well we could remove the vertical fins and tear out the combat systems. Then double the tractor beams to lock onto cargo containers.” Another chairman, the resident engineer if I remembered correctly, suggests.

  “We could always use lesser materials if we’re not producing them to the Separatist Navy’s standards.” A third chairman says.

  “We shall take your suggestion under advisement.” Mullo agrees, silencing his fellow executives.

  “Wonderful news, truly wonderful. Now, about my suggestion on opening a new Starchaser facility on Krinemonen?”

  “Their yards do them credit, but we would need to be more invested into their system to consider it.” One of the chairmen grumbles.

  “I shall put in a good word for you and offer mediation.” I offer.

  “That … is agreeable.” Mullo decides.

  I look at the man with a mix of curiosity and disdain. I wasn’t entirely sure what exactly the man in a white uniform and black pants and officers cap was. He had simply barged into my office with a look of vindication on his face as he pushed a datapad into my face. A datapad I was currently reading through carefully.

  “So.” I eventually say to the grinning fool, “You are Agent Pycko of this … Imperial Security Bureau and you are … assigned to oversee the decommissioning or transfer of my Marshal’s Agent network?”

  “Exactly, Fleet Admiral. It is my distinct pleasure to relieve you of those duties now.”

  “One moment.” I say glancing at the man’s officer’s badge. At least a brevet Navy Commander, though possibly a full Army Captain in authority. I could work with that. I tap my desk’s intercom as I speak, “R4, please get Major Green of Imperial Intelligence to my office post haste. I have someone here from am alleged civilian organization which is encroaching on double-I’s territory.”

  “What?” The man in front of me squeaks.

  “I do not recognize your organization. I have not been briefed on your organization. For all I know you’re some Sepy remnant fuck who’s trying to crack open my network.” I reply as I pull out my slugthrower, aiming it at the man’s head as I stand up from my seat.

  The intercom buzzes as R4 whistles Major Green’s imminent arrival. Shortly after the Major enters the room like a whirlwind with four Imperial Intelligence enforcers on his heels, blasters drawn and helmets encased with goggles and gas masks.

  The Major sighs as he recognizes the situation and waves his men off: “Outside, stand watch.”

  “You have enforcers?” The ISB schmuck asks incredulously.

  Green rolls his eyes: “Course I do, I’m a damn Major, I’ve got two dozen intelligence analysts under me and have the responsibility for the transfer of the Marshal’s Agent network in this command to be transferred to Imperial Intelligence.”

  “No, no, no!” The ISB officer whines, “The Imperial Security Bureau has the full authority to subsume internal intelligence networks!”

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  “Mine isn’t internal.” I say, returning my slugthrower to its holster, “There’s still plenty o’ Agents outside of Imperial controlled space. A handful in Hutt Space here, a few in the holdouts there, plus a couple in allied and neutral polities.”

  “Which is why I am the one in charge of its transfer to Imperial Intelligence.” Major Green says.

  The man in white’s face scrunches together before pushing his pointer into Green’s face: “Colonel Yularen will here of this!”

  “When the fuck did Yularen get demoted?” I blurt.

  “He was appointed as one of the Directors of the ISB after he requested to retire out of the Navy. His appointment occurred less than a week ago.” Major Green says.

  “Well tell him he’s an idiot for leaving the Navy and an even bigger idiot for sending some rookie at me who doesn’t know his internal intel network from an external one.” I order the ISB Agent.

  “I- This- How-” The man splutters before leaving in a huff, the door closing behind him.

  “I would request you have two of your men escort that Agent back to his ship.” I order Major Green.

  “With pleasure sir.” The man’s eyes flash with mirth as he snaps his fingers. Two enforces burst through my doors again, see Green pointing at the sputtering ISB Agent, grab the man by the armpits, then drag him from the room.

  “Alright, back to your duties, please.” I shoo the man out. Damn Spooks, always so eager to cause a scene.

  I feel the shuttle jolt lightly as it finishes its landing. I wanted to do this right. I adjust my officer’s cap slightly before the shuttle’s innards light up green, then go dark as the ramp begins lowering. I wait fully until the ramp finished lowering before I begin my descent, I usually didn’t wait for that, but this was special damn it.

  I continue my descent as I look through the hangar bay of my Little Revenge. Hundreds of arms-men, Clones from Hope and Endurance Companies, Pilots, Technicians, Gunners and their Battery Commanders, Medics, Cooks, Maintenance Workers, Petty Officers and even a platoon of the most decorated soldiers of General Krugwolt’s and General Cain’s respective Corps. At the end of the two massive formations was a small platform, the only thing missing from the hangar was the actual fighters and LAATs we usually kept about.

  I glance over to Mi-Kus who is standing beside the end of the shuttle ramp, facing towards me. I stop as there’s half a step between me and the floor of my beloved ship: “Permission to come aboard?”

  “Granted, Fleet Admiral.” Mi-Kus responds.

  I take the final step before saluting my subordinate, the Adjutant Captain returning the salute sharply. I begin slowly marching forwards, Mi-Kus following two paces behind me. As I continue the march the arms-men, Clones and Army Volunteers present arms as I pass. Finally I end up at the small platform, ignoring the few steps to the side I simply climb up the meter and a half high platform, thank goodness the thing had a lot of supports.

  As I finish making an ass of myself I greet the various officers on the platform. Krugwolt is trying to hide a shit eating grin and failing, Bvinsk looks exasperated, Luis looks on with a raised eyebrow while Faxe stifles a few chuckles. The rest though, be it Hugh, Jim, Praut, Miller, Solo, Green or Bwisue, were standing firmly at attention. I clear my throat as I walk up and down the line, exchanging salutes and handshakes with each and every one of them before I return my attention to the Podium. I look across the assembled soldiers and sailors, feeling at least mildly emotional at the entire thing as I clear my throat.

  “Sailors, Soldiers, Engineers, Techs, Specialists, Pilots, Officers, Comrades, Friends. I thank each and every one of you for joining us today. Though I wish more of you were with us today, tragically I was threatened with my biggest fear should I have requisitioned either one of the Army’s staging grounds or one of the Logistical Corps’ supply hubs for today’s celebrations. More paperwork.”

  Mild chuckles erupt throughout the crowd as I continue: “Three years so far we have fought and despite our Emperor’s proclamation I fear, deeply, that we will have to continue to fight. Many Separatists are not yet returned to the fold and many more worlds are occupied by petty tyrants, like the Targonn of but two years past. And yet, will we shirk from this duty to the people of this galaxy?”

  “NO!” Comes the reply.

  “Damn right!” I shout back, “We will continue to serve the people of this galaxy with distinction and honor. Be it as Slice Hussars, brave Volunteers, able voidsmen, or any other branch of our military. And it is for exactly such service that we are gathered here today, namely the rewards for such able service. First I would request Lieutenant Commanders Welder and Slas to the podium alongside Adjutant Lieutenant Hursk.”

  The three officers, rather close to the podium already begin their quickmarch to the steps and begin their assent as I continue to speak: “In reward for their excellent service and loyalty, Lieutenant Commanders Welder and Slas are being promoted to the rank of Senior Commanders within the Fleet.”

  The two officers finish their approach and salute as I finish the statement, Lieutenant Hursk a step and a half behind them. I remove each of their rank plaques and replace them with the new plaques. A quick exchange of salutes later and two shaken hands and the newly promoted officers step off to the side. I give a quick gesture for the Lieutenant to step forward and I remove his rank plaque.

  “Adjutant Lieutenant Hursk, for his excellent service as first Adjutant when away from our beloved flagship, shall be promoted to Adjutant Commander.” I continue as I finish replacing the man’s rank plaque and exchange the required salutes and handshakes.

  A final salute with all three, before they file out, back into their formation. I return to the podium before speaking once more, the applause at the new promotions finally dying down: “Next is something that should have happened even before Operation Vengeance had we been allowed to follow protocol in those hectic weeks. Adjutant Captain Mi-Kus, please step forwards.”

  The man steps forward from the group of my senior officers. I quickly remove his officer’s badge as I speak: “For excellent service and council and for the increased duties taken on beyond your rank, you are finally promoted to Adjunct Captain of the 120th Battlegroup and any therefrom formed Fleets and Taskforces. May the position keep you well.”

  I finish pinning the Vice Commodore’s badge onto his chest. Adjunct Captain was a bit of a … minor promotion in all honesty. It was technically the highest rank available on a flagship, excluding the actual flag officer, but it wasn’t really any different from the post of Adjutant Captain. The primary difference was that the Adjunct Captain commanded with the authority of a Vice Commodore instead of that of a Senior Captain, a distinction that only really existed in theory.

  However in comparison to Vice Commodore, Adjunct Captains received a nicer paystub, primarily due to their work as tactical and strategic advisers to their Fleet Admirals. I return to the moment in time to exchange salutes and a handshake with my newly reported officer, applause filling the hangar as we both return to our earlier positions.

  “Now I’d ask Senior Captain Sicato forward, Captain Solo may join him there if she pleases.”

  “YOU KNOW I DON’T” Solo shouts into the room, getting a couple hollers and laughs in response.

  “Senior Captain Sicato, for your leadership during operation Silken Tubers and Operation Vengeance, as well as your excellent relief effort on the world of Keldrath, I hereby award you the post of Vice Commodore.” I begin, replacing Luis’s badge with a new one as I speak, then whisper to my friend, “Stay here a moment.”

  The salutes and handshakes are exchanged before I turn to Solo: “Captain Solo, for excellent service and leading a force of strikecraft to the rescue of my temporary flagship, the Fondor’s Star during Operation Vengeance, continued excellence as my Attache to the Starighter Corps and skilled management of your strikecraft wing, I hereby award you the medal of Valor and the promotion to Lieutenant Colonel.”

  Solo ends up slack-jawed as I finish speaking and replace her rank plaque with a far larger one. She had just jumped over a Senior Captaincy and the two ranks of Major in her branch and couldn’t seem to process it yet. Honestly she should be a full Colonel for all the work she did as the most senior strikecraft commander within the entire command, but I figured jumping that many ranks would end up with me thrown out an airlock and her in the brig.

  “You sonuvabich!” Solo barks as she tries to strangle me, Luis easily grabbing her under the shoulders and holding her back from assaulting her superior officer as I somehow manage to pin her medal below her rank plaque without stabbing her with the pin.

  “Always fun to give you another rightfully earned promotion, Solo.” I tease before Luis gets them both back in line.

  I readjust my officer’s cap slightly before returning to the podium. I haven’t needed the damn thing since my promotion to Admiral, but it was a Fondorian tradition, though not an exclusive one, to keep the officer’s cap on unless one was paying respects at a funeral or off duty. It was supposed to make it easier to keep an eye out for who was on duty and made the officers more down to earth, though if it actually did any of that was an entirely different question.

  “I’d now ask Commodores Hugh, Praut, Bwisue and Miller forward.” I request as the three officers move forward, Miller taking point, eyes glinting in eagerness as he spots a certain item being handed to me.

  I approach my fellow Fondorian as I speak: “After counseling with the Fondorian Planetary Defense Force’s command staff, those being General Dericote, Counter Admiral Dyss and Lieutenant General Graff, I have been awarded the authority to grant Commodore Miller the Winglizard’s Wings, you now have permission to wear a winglizard short-cloak of your choosing throughout your military career.”

  I pin the medal under his rank plaque beside his Bronze Crescent and Fondor’s Shipyard Defender Cross before saluting the man and shaking his hand. He’d need a leave of absence to hunt his cloak sooner than later. Maybe he’ll be so kind as to pass my pa’ a message of mine while he’s there.

  I move over to Hugh as I begin speaking again: “Commodore Hugh, for repeated service beyond expectations, remaining calm under fire and as reminder to everyone that logistics is what won us the war, I award the Silver Crescent.”

  I pin the medal under her rank plaque before exchanging a salute and another handshake with the officer before continuing to Commodore Bwisue. The man was a tad older than me, if memory served and this award had been a long time coming: “Commodore Bwisue, for repeated excellence in logistical matters and three years of guarding and overseeing the many depots of the Munto Codru system, I award you the Republic Seal of Service.”

  I pin the medal under his rank plaque before exchanging the salute and handshake before moving on to the final officer of this round. In the end, this may be the most difficult award. I find myself frowning at the person in front of me: “Commodore Praut. Where to begin. You served with me at Mon Cala, Pammant, Mintooine, during Silken Tubers and Vengeance. Honestly it is a damn shame I do not have the permission to promote you to the Admiralty, believe you me sailor, it’s the least you deserve. However instead I have the distinct honer of awarding you the Cross of Glory and a Mark of Dedication. Maker keep you sailor.”

  Praut’s eyes well up slightly as I pin the medals to their chest. It was the very least the Commodore deserved. I exchange salutes with them before shaking their hand. The four Commodores about face as one and begin marching back to their positions in the line of flag officers as I salute them once more. I return to the podium as the cheers finally die down.

  “Now, I bid Lieutenant General Krugwolt and Major General Bvinsk forward.” I order as I grab the final awards of the day.

  I meet them easily enough as I begin speaking: “Though it pains me greatly, I do not have the authority to promote you both to ranks befitting your stations. However I do have the distinct pleasure to inform you both of the planned promotions his excellency has deigned to award you both once you travel to Coruscant. In the meantime I have been permitted, through my posting of Brevet Junior Moff, to give you both the lesser merits now before you are given your final merits on Coruscant.”

  I step up to Krugwolt before pinning a medallion under his rank plaque beside the various other crosses and medals: “To Lieutenant General Krugwolt, the Hero’s Cross, for his seizure of the Separatist Parliament and baffling amounts of bravery.”

  A quick salute and handshake before moving on to Bvinsk. I quickly pin the Crescent shaped medal under his rank plaque: “To Major General Bvinsk, I am honored to present the Crescent of Service, for his continuous mastery of logistics which has kept us armed, provisioned, watered and fed.”

  Another quick exchange of salutes and handshakes between the three of us occurs before I return to the podium. I have to wait a handful of seconds before it finally quiets down, but in that moment I simply enjoy the jubilation. These soldiers deserved better than what I could deliver.

  “Now I wish very much that I could pin a medal on each and every one of you all, but I agreed with your commanding officers that it would take far too long and ruin the festive mood. So instead it was agreed that we would continue the festivities now and have smaller award ceremonies throughout the next two weeks for those of you who have earned your awards, promotions and of course, your bonuses. So, as it once was when this war began, drink up, be merry and Maker bless us all!”