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Chapter Text

It has been 11 years since the great battle in the Yavin system, which turned out to be catastrophic in its consequences. At the same time, 7 years have passed since the death, or rather the first death, of the Galactic Emperor, which caused the galaxy, until then united under the scepter of a ruthless despot and tyrant, at least the part controlled by the Galactic Empire, to plunge into chaos. On the one hand, a civil war, between factions, personalities and interest groups, but on the other hand the Rebel Alliance, which in the meantime managed to transform from an organization fighting against the oppression of the empire over the Known Galaxy, into the New Republic.

7 years have passed, from the irreversible end of the old, to the beginning of the new. The old and hopeless past, gave way to an uncertain future.

Only a year ago, the deceased Emperor Sheev Palpatine returned to the galaxy, bringing with him a powerful armada of Super Star Destroyers. The event came as a shock to all, but surprisingly they moved on with it as the Reborn Emperor's fleet devastated the Core worlds time and again, bringing death and destruction to all who had betrayed the Emperor.

But all must die, and so it was in this case, for the Reborn Emperor, after less than a year of rule, was defeated once and for all, his fleet and shipyards reduced to stardust, while the unity of the various Imperial factions shattered at its foundations, leading to another period of infighting and fighting for the last vestiges of power and former glory of the Galactic Empire. Imperial patriots, such as Vice Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, could only longingly and hopefully look for some sign from fate, someone who could take power over the internally torn Galactic Empire, rallying the quarreling Warlords, political and military leaders, to a common and coordinated fight against the hated Rebels.

At that time, a blonde, petite but already 28-year-old girl, an officer first in the Imperial Navy, and later, as a result of good birth and connections, the highest-ranking naval officer of one of the many factions that had formed shortly after the Battle of Endor.

"What did you just say, Heren?" Tanya asked him, looking at him with such a large mix of different, often completely incompatible facial expressions that it was impossible to pinpoint it precisely.

She and her two closest associates were currently in the office of Tanya, Lady Admiral of the Pentastar Alignment and thus Commander-in-Chief of the Pentastar Navy. It involved many duties and a long list of careers.

In this new life, Tanya, reincarnated for the 3rd time, began her career in the fleet quite early, with her graduation from the academy at the age of 16, just in time to catch the beginning of a closely organized rebel movement.

This involved going from captain of an Imperial I-class Star Destroyer at the tender age of 18, to her current status as Lady Admiral and Commander of the Pentastar Navy. If it weren't for who her father is, or rather was, the intense and widespread sexism within the Galactic Empire would have permanently blocked her career. Despite many odds, this did not happen.

At the tender age of 21, in the days following the Battle of Endor and the massive disruption of the Imperial system, Tanya and her father made the decision to retreat to the Galactic North, occupied by the Empire, and build their own state there, using the military forces subordinate to them in the process.

Tanya had to do a lot in that time to reorganize their space forces into an efficient, well-organized navy, and in doing so, deal with the desire of the signatories of the Pentastar Alignment Treaty to have their own semi-independent fleets. It was a difficult fight, but thanks to her great determination, using all the rhetorical tricks she knew, she was able to push through the creation of the Pentastar Royal Armed Forces, headed by her father, but Tanya was given the position of Lady Admiral and thus served as the supreme commander of this branch of their armed forces.

However, power, as is usually the case, was nothing more than a very thankless burden, which, although it gave her a sense of strength and pride that she had not experienced as a battlemage of the Empire, and even less so as a corporeater, still forced her to work hard.

Tanya spent these 7 years wading through the politics of the Pentastar Alignment, which, through a policy of fait accompli, became an independent state. She set herself the goal of eradicating the growing piracy, which, however, involved fighting on two fronts. On one side, the external enemy, the pirates, but on the other, the internal one, i.e. people jealous of her sudden promotion. In addition to combating piracy, she also focused on securing the Pentastar borders, which, although not particularly vulnerable to attack, were better safe than sorry. Her efforts paid off.

Just 6 years ago, she had already begun a wide-ranging, brutal and uncompromising fight not only against piracy, but also against the corruption that was prevalent in all institutions outside the armed forces, and in the process, against slavery, for a pragmatic reason, the ineffectiveness of this relic from the eras when sentient beings had bronze objects as their pinnacle of technology, and were not familiar with toilet paper.

It meant 4 years of full commitment, proverbial watching your back and hard work, sometimes whole standard days. But it paid off. 2 years ago, she emerged victorious from this campaign, the culmination of which was the eradication of piracy, and the cherry on the cake was the destruction of Red Moons. The organization, whose leader was beheaded, but the execution was sabotaged by Tanya herself, so that the beheading of the self-proclaimed Colonel Stormcaller, transmitted to the local HoloNet, had to be repeated several times, which was bloody, brutal and painful.

The execution of the living symbol of piracy in the region of the so-called New Territories, was in a sense the quintessence of the nature of an extremely brutal campaign, during which the navy showed absolutely no mercy to pirates. Tanya's philosophy in this case was simple, not to give pearls to swine.

Ultimately, however, the goal was achieved to the extent possible, with the huge dysfunction of the Pentastar's administrative and police institutions, such as the Politorate branch, Insurrection branch, and Judgment branch.

Tanya proved to everyone that she was more than capable, although if asked, she would never describe herself as a brilliant tactician. She won against the pirates by conserving her own resources, tracking down the pirates, attacking them with overwhelming force, and ultimately suppressing the enemy. She was no brilliant tactician, but her experience with resource management made her an adept strategist.

Ultimately, thanks to her, the Pentastar Alignment made a small expansion into Wild Space, gaining several systems with access to many important strategic resources.

"Exactly what came out of my mouth a few moments ago, Lady Admiral." Heren replied, he was a rather short and inconspicuous man, in a silver-colored armor. “If you don’t believe me, then Commodore Xenia can confirm that.”

It wasn’t silver though. The armor, with the addition of a jetpack and a small concussion projectile, was covered in a thin layer of chrome. High Colonel Heren Ramcke wasn’t the only one with such armor, as each of the Silver Commandos had the same, but the unique thing was the rank insignia on the chrome plaque. A row of 4 reds on a row of blues.

Regardless, Tanya couldn’t believe it. Was I crazy? The young woman couldn’t find the answer to that question.

“So confirm it, Xenia, if that’s the case, because I think I have a hearing problem.”

The two people, High Colonel Heren Ramcke and Commodore Xenia Ozzel exchanged nervous glances before the answer came from their side.

“I’m afraid your ears are not deceiving you, Lady Admiral.” Xenia said as calmly as possible. “Exactly 20 standard minutes ago, I personally received a specially encrypted message from the 21st Reconnaissance Squadron, informing me… that the remains of the Lambda shuttle the 'Black Star', along with the cold… and rigid remains of your father, had been found in the Palanhi system.”

Xenia Ozzel, niece of the disgraced and slain admiral of the Galactic Empire, had always been an oasis of calm and sincerity. Traits that, to Tanya's own surprise and disapproval, were quite rare among Imperial officers, who were very often simply pompous puffs convinced of the inevitability of victory.

Tanya had learned at the end of her two previous lives, especially at the very end of her first, that something like security and assured success was a dangerous illusion that clouded the perspective of reality and potential dangers. She tried to instill this same notion in her subordinates, for example, sometimes giving them more or less clear hints that with just one command she could order their destruction.

"This is a bloody disaster." Tanya leaned back in the comfortable and large armchair. She was not angry or furious, but she could not help but groan and complain, to give at least a minimal release to her frustration on the one hand, but emotion on the other. “Sithspit, in our current situation, is much worse, it means destroying the delicate balance between all interest groups.”

Basically, the Pentastar Alignment was built on diplomacy and far-reaching compromises. The boundaries could be gradually pushed, but it did not change the fact that holding it all together was a challenge worthy of heroes, but only a few mortals.

Tanya's father, Grand Moff Ardus Kaine, might have been an indecisive and even unstable man in her opinion, and in some circles he was very unpopular, but he was a great speaker, able to keep people interested and compromise. Because of this, he was able to create and hold together for all these years something that, without Tanya's own efforts, would have been a loose and weak, bordering on anarchy, conglomeration of interest groups for whom the most important priority was to maintain the status quo.

“Why did I persuade him a year ago to return the Reaper to our shipyard on Yaga Minor and upgrade it to a new class?” She asked herself as she settled into the black plush armchair that easily accommodated her small frame. In a way that was an insult to all military discipline.

The upgrade of the Executor-class Super Star Destroyer to an entirely new, experimental and potentially even more destructive class could not have happened without the technical support of the Reborn Emperor.

Tanya, at that moment when Emperor Palpatine first contacted them, experienced a genuine shock along with her father. Although they were more than aware of the existence of the Force, thanks to the existence of Lord Vader and the Inquisitors, the return to life was somehow too abstract and improbable, even for them.

In any case, it was the Reborn Emperor who entrusted them with many valuable secrets and technological data, in case of unforeseen circumstances, so that none of it would be lost. Among all this data, there was a new super star destroyer, a new class, very similar to the Reborn Emperor's flagship, 'Eclipse'. The Sovereign class, with its powerful dimensions and firepower, the quintessence of which was the superlaser.

Tanya, knowing that conventional construction would take too long, was able to convince her father to use his flagship, 'Reaper', which also formed the core of their fleet's strength, to use the ship as parts for a much better and more powerful class. However, Tanya did not expect that the end result would be her father sending her on a personal negotiation mission, with only one Lambda-class shuttle.

She may not have loved him, and they may have had a difficult but easy relationship. He was a very important politician in the empire, working hard to implement the ideals of the New Order and High Human Culture, although the latter was half-heartedly disdained by Tanya. As such, he had no time to spend with his daughter, especially since the child was the product of a political union devoid of feelings or passion.

This was the main reason why their conversations were usually limited to exchanging pleasantries, discussing the changes, their political situation, and potential threats.

Only occasionally did the Grand Moff praise her extraordinary achievements in science or military service, unusual for such a young woman. However, for the most part, their relationship was devoid of almost any familial warmth. Especially since her father clearly did not know how to start a conversation with her about something more personal. Meanwhile, she, as emotionally distant, almost psychopathic, from other people, was also unable and did not particularly need such a relationship.

As always, Tanya was aware of her basic shortcomings as a human being.

After all, Grand Moff Ardus Kaine was still her father, and she could appreciate that at least he had given her a comfortable life, with a practically ready and easy career path in the Imperial Navy.

"Do you know what actually happened there?" she asked matter-of-factly, glancing from Xenia to Heren every now and then. "Anyone?"

Finally, Xenia decided to answer. “Well, I spoke to Admiral Sauckel quickly about it, and according to his version of events, the Grand Moff was supposed to have received a secret, encrypted message from former Grand Admiral Octavian Grant about his desire to defect back to us. Due to the upgrade, or should I say cannibalization, of the 'Reaper' for the new structure, he decided to travel there in his own shuttle. It’s not clear who directly attacked and dealt the decisive blow, but it was either the mercenaries or the Rebels themselves.”

Grand Admiral Octavian Grant was one of a long list of people Tanya simply couldn’t stand, and the hatred was mutual. It was almost like a “plebeian, blonde upstart” hatred against an “aristocratic, snobbish jerk,” which was one of the mildest insults the two of them had a habit of throwing around.

Tanya hated him all the more because not only was he a snob, convinced of the absolute superiority of all nobles over the rest of the galaxy, but he was also incredibly cunning and astute as a military commander.

Despite everything, he was a man with no political involvement, which after the Emperor's death turned out to have disastrous consequences when he found himself without supporters, with limited resources of his own, and with this, he had to beg Grand Moff Kaine for shelter in the Pentastar, only to escape to the New Republic a few years later, giving them known Imperial secrets, in exchange for immunity and a lifetime pension.

Tanya couldn't understand how her father, a seasoned politician, could trust someone like Octavian Grant, who had no loyalty and was willing, figuratively and literally, to do anything to ensure a soft landing as the Galactic Empire lost campaign after campaign.

Tanya wasn't angry at her father, or even at the last living Grand Admiral, she could only blame herself, or so she thought, for not being there with the Grand Moff to advise him properly. But then again, who could have predicted such a turn of events?

"My father was unwise to trust a man who changed his allegiances like gloves." Tanya returned to her usual cold demeanor, expression, and manner of speaking to others, which many compared to the creator of the Doctrine of Terror. “More, complete and unbelievable in every way, especially after this incident, a political bankrupt who, apart from a pension from the New Republic for his treason, currently has no resources, much less sympathy on either side.”

It was quite clear to her that what had happened could not go unanswered. “The former Grand Admiral is to become a target for all the most prestigious bounty hunters. Let them be sent out, with or without intermediaries, it does not matter that I want the head of this political Bantha. I have enormous personal financial resources, losing a few million credits will not make much difference, especially since it will be clear how I deal with such scumbags.”

“My lady…” Heren hesitated, then decided to change the tone of the conversation. “Tanya, let's be clear, revenge for the death of the Grand Moff is not the most important thing at the moment!”

Indeed. No one had to tell Tanya herself about this, not once, let alone several times, because she remembered the chaos and uncertainty that had arisen after Endor in the Known Galaxy. Her father had also left no will or designated her as a direct successor, but only an enigmatic document stating that the Pentastar Council had designated a successor.

“Of course, the nebulous matter of succession and command of this country, to which I naturally have the greatest right by virtue of my blood…” Tanya had no doubts as to what her priorities should be at the moment. “And by the way, having elite forces.”

The Silver Commandos, commanded by Heren, were a truly elite formation, although limited to just one brigade divided into two regiments. Each of the commandos, sometimes called 'Silver Wings' in the media on the Pentastar, had been trained by Tanya’s own order by the Mandalorians, whose services in this regard were reluctant and expensive, but paid off. Each of the commandos had real gadgets at their disposal, armors referring in appearance to those worn by clone troopers during the second half of the Clone Wars and technically being refined in every inch. In addition, each of the Silver Wings received their own jetpack with a single concussion projectile, an E-11D blaster rifle, developed at Tanyia's request by BlasTech Industries, to this 4 grenades, a blaster pistol and a vibro blade in form of the knife.

Tanya personally oversaw the development, equipment and training of her elite elite, distinguished not only by their high level of training and equipment, but also by a fanatical level of loyalty to her. In the back of the young woman's mind was always the need to expand the Silver Commandos into something more than a single brigade. A full Corps force at least.

"Have the Pentastar Council representatives made any significant or drastic moves so far?" she asked, her gaze never leaving Xenia, who undoubtedly had the most to say on the matter.

"No, both I and the High Colonel have done our best to narrow down the scope of those who know of your father's death, and who could potentially spread the information, but time is working against us at this point."

"Either we seize power at this point..." Heren wanted to begin.

"Or you and I will suffer an ignominious fate." The Lady Admiral summed up the situation without a blink on her part. “In the worst case scenario, we die. In the best case scenario, either we will have a civil war within the Pentastar that will drain our resources, or we will have to gather as many resources as possible and then go to the Deep Core, solely to carve out our own fiefdom or support one of the Warlords. Either way, it would be a political death sentence for me.”

Heren and Xenia exchanged nervous glances, but the former swallowed nervously, which was audible even under his chrome-plated helmet.

“If that’s what you say and believe…”

“I have no faith in this matter, or even in other matters, I simply have beliefs based on certain, more or less rational and logical foundations.” Tanya leaned over the desk and began typing commands into the console. “That said.”

Then, the previously inactive holoprojector flashed blue, displaying a map of most of the known Galactic North, with particular emphasis on the New Territories, 14 of which were within the boundaries of the Pentastar Alignment.

The rest of the territories, however, at the time of their conversation and as the map perfectly reflected, were torn between the New Republic, the Imperial Warlords, the Mandalorians, the Corporate Sector, and the recent addition to the ranks of local powers, the so-called Crimson Empire, led by the self-proclaimed Emperor Carnor Jax.

"At this time, we must seize power as soon as possible and obtain, if possible, an oath of unconditional loyalty and service to my person, under penalty of loss of office or life." Tanya moved on from this announcement to issuing orders directly to her subordinates. "Xenia, let the Platinum Wrath Squadron, along with the Salamander, depart for the Entralla system immediately. I will personally call a meeting of the council.”

“Heren, contact Admiral Sepp Torbec as soon as possible, have Scourge Squadron depart from Sartinaynian to the Yaga Minor system, to the planet of the same name.” Her eyes were as cold as durasteel, her voice stronger and as if capable of breaking even the strongest of metals. “They have a clear goal, to secure the shipyards there, in case any of the Moffs or other military commanders should have something reckless pop into their empty heads.”

“Tanya.” Xenia addressed her informally, a privilege reserved only for Heren and her. “Do you really believe…”

“I am convinced that beyond the universe, there may be an infinite amount of stupidity of organic beings and thus their unpredictability.” After these words she deactivated the holoprojector and folded her hands. “Now leave me, you have your orders and I want to think everything over in solitude.”

They both left her office, and as the durasteel doors adorned with the Pentastar crest closed, Tanya turned her chair towards the porthole behind her, from which she had a good view of the airspace.

The room itself, her office, although undoubtedly modest and utilitarian, nevertheless perfectly told the story of all her adventures and accomplishments to date, first as an officer in the Imperial Navy, then as Lady Admiral of the Pentastar Alignment.

Memorabilia from the Battle of Yavin, as commander of her first Star Destroyer, however, a Victory-I class, 'Executive', which had participated in the blockade of the planet and managed to shoot down several insignificant Rebel transports. A few artifacts from local temples and her old blaster, made of Mandalorian Steel on her personal order. Another interesting item was a long and ceremonial dagger, which she received as a gift from one of the officers on the Second Death Star, where she served as the executive officer aboard the massive structure, but despite the fight and destruction of the structure, she managed to evacuate and join her father.

A plan slowly began to form in her head, for a quick and possibly bloodless takeover of power, which however required fast action. Not only that, but also a plan to take advantage of the last conflict, which for both the New Republic and the Remnant of the Empire, had extremely catastrophic consequences. Consequences that created opportunities for her.

However, in a moment of contemplation, her mind was violently torn from them by a tunnel of blue light. It was an unmistakable sign that her personal Bellator-class dreadnought, had entered hyperspace.

"To my future successes." She said, regretting at the same time that she did not have a cup of coffee with her. "Kampai!"

Chapter Text

One by one, the great warships appeared on the previously empty landscape of space. In the first, there were 8 Ton-Falk-class escort carriers, all filled with TIE spaceships of various types, which were basically the most powerful weapon of this ship and there were as many as 72 of them, so an entire fighter wing.

One by one, large warships appeared on the previously empty landscape of space. In the first chew, there were 8 Ton-Falk escort Lostniks, all filled with TIE spaceships of various types. Next were 25 Victory II-class Star Destroyers, quite cheap for a unit of this type, but at the same time with significant tactical and technical parameters. Later, heavier units with great striking power jumped out of hyperspace at an unsynchronized pace, 5 Imperial II-class Star Destroyers, which were already basically a symbol of the Galactic Empire, and the Imperial Era. The shadow and threat of destruction that the Galactic Emperor had cast on the galaxy for many years. However, all of these ships, after minimizing the speed of their engines well below the speed of light, held their positions for a few more standard minutes, until another ship emerged from hyperspace, more powerful than any of the others individually. Not invincible, but definitely the safest.

The Bellator-class star dreadnought 'Salamandra', one of the most powerful weapons in the Pentastar Navy's arsenal, and without much exaggeration the head of the Platinum Wrath Squadron, which was Lady Admiral Tanya Kaine's personal ship.

Heren could not have been more pleased to be part of this great force that could render countless planets uninhabitable. He had spent his entire life searching for a power that would help him, or even earn the respect of others. He might have been powerless once, but when he gained a powerful protector, or rather patron, he had taken full advantage of his chance.

So he could have stood next to Lady Admiral Kaine when the Salamandra left hyperspace, on the bridge of this star dreadnought, looking out at a planet that was a world of more or less stark contrasts.
Entralla, a fortress world and the capital of the Pentastar Alignment, with a dozen or so star shipyards built a few years earlier, which even now assembled the delivered components, parts and components into entire ships, warships for the front lines, or for patrol and maintaining peace in the rear.

As for the planet itself, it was, on the one hand, heavily urbanized and heavily industrialized, which meant that factories on the surface could meet the needs of shipyards or produce fighters, ammunition, and weapons. On the other hand, many areas still retained their natural beauty, in the form of vast forests, consisting primarily of local olive trees, ideally suited to the warm climate.

The planet's population itself fit into this urbanized world, as it had 9 billion inhabitants, the vast majority of them Humans and less than 1% of other species.

As for the planet's defense, it was large, consisting of 4 Imperial-class Star Destroyers, 9 Victory-class Star Destroyers, 19 Enforcer cruisers, and to this, 4 Golan II Space Defense Platforms and 2 Golan IIs. A force that would theoretically be able to withstand an attack. Especially considering the presence of several strategically placed ion cannons on the surface.

Even Platinum Wrath Squadron would have trouble breaking through such defenses, despite the possession of a star dreadnought. They had not yet reached the planet's surface with the intention of fighting, however, after the confirmation of their intentions and the convening of the Pentastar Council, Tanya's personal shuttle, 'Magus', had been given permission to land and an escort of 8 TIE Interceptors by the commander of the planet's star defense, Rear Admiral Konstantin Nikolsky.

Heren, along with 20 other Silver Wings, followed the Lady Admiral onto the shuttle, where they took off and within minutes were flying below the atmosphere, passing the ships that were constantly defending the planet.

Heren could not help, and honestly did not want to help, the feeling of pride that the sight stirred in his heart. Ships, full of officers, pilots, navy troopers and crew members trained for many months, often remembering the times before Endor. The commando commander was perfectly aware that in fact, despite the passage of many years, the Pentastar Alignment, despite repeatedly sending abundant material aid to the warring parties, was largely uninvolved in galactic or local conflicts. Instead, selling weapons, delivering supplies, expanding its industrial, economic and military base.

Thanks to this, the Pentastar could boast at the current moment in history the most powerful military force, within the Remnant of the Empire, supported by a powerful and extensive industrial base, capable of rebuilding any losses in terms of purely material. All this, was the merit of Tanya, who often exceeded the limits of her competence, with some clever argument to interfere in another part of the country, to which she theoretically had no prerogatives. All this with being the daughter of the leader of Pentastar, as well as his silent approval, and Heren could swear that the deceased Grand Moff knew what he was doing, allowing his daughter to make such moves.

'Magus' soon flew to the largest city on the planet, Nexus City, which also had several large and well-developed spaceports, but none of them were the target of the Lambda-class shuttle, which was characterized by specific additions in the form of several silver state coats of arms.

The pilots operating 'Magus' landed on a specially prepared platform, leading directly to the grand palace of the Sector Governor, and at the same time the government building of Pentastar, which housed the most important branches of the highest levels of administration, called commissariats.

Below, under the platform, there was a large square, where at least an entire battalion of soldiers had gathered, divided into companies grouped in columns. However, these were not stormtroopers, but ordinary soldiers from the Pentastar Army. Dressed in olive drab uniforms, with armor protecting only selected parts of the body, including helmets and breastplates, they were usually armed with the older but still very effective E-10 blaster rifles, only commanders or sergeants had E-11s and apart from that, they could also be recognized by their shoulder boards, white for sergeants and yellow for company commanders.

Heren, Tanya at the head and 20 commandos accompanying them, hurriedly made their way towards the palace, while the Lady Admiral casually greeted the soldiers saluting below them. They were greeted by two officers, who informed them that the rest of the Pentastar Council had already gathered and were waiting for them.

The palace itself, through which the 22 and the additional 2 officers leading them, in the ranks of captain and lieutenant, was a place typical of the ethos of the empire, that is, modest, utilitarian and devoid of unnecessary decorations.

Finally, they reached the elevator, which took them to the highest floor of the main tower, and after the elevator stopped and the doors opened, their eyes saw the vestibule, or rather the secretariat, where 16 women and men were busy either reviewing documents on their data pads or having holo conversations. However, everyone stood up and began to salute at the sight of the Lady Admiral with her distinctive insignia on a chrome plate. A row of 3 blue and 3 yellow, followed by the exact same row.

Two guards guarding the large doors saluted at the sight of them, before one of them opened the door to the conference room using the console.

Tanya then signaled her commandos with her fingers for only two of them and Heren himself to enter, and they did. They entered quickly, confidently, and without unnecessary ceremony.

The room itself was quite specific and designed somewhat in the style of the Imperial Palace on Coruscant. In the center, there was a round table, the center of which was cut out to match the Pentastar crest and emit a light blue, almost sky-blue light.

However, the room was full of light and devoid of darkness or something that could best be described as an ara of sinisterness. On the contrary, large portholes on the oval walls provided easy access to light. This was made all the easier by the fact that the sky on Entralla was usually sparsely clouded and the local sun could send out its rays without any obstacles. After receiving salutes from all the assembled, the Commissioners, several Moffs, and representatives of corporate interests, Tanya returned the salute, then took her seat in the largest, gold-crested seat where her father usually sat.

Heren, who had taken a seat to the back right behind Tanya, just watched with amusement under his helmet as everyone's eyes practically popped out of their sockets. Never before had Tanya, even when present in her father's place, taken his place. It made the situation even more confusing for almost everyone present.

Heren himself, meanwhile, couldn't wait for them all to be presented with a fait accompli, unable to do anything against his mistress. How long had he waited for the opportunity to see these powerful ones completely helpless?

“Lady Admiral, with all due respect…” High Moff Ib Dekeet began, promoted to this position by the late Grand Moff, which included management and being the direct superior of all Moffs. “But what are you doing in your father’s place?”

Heren glanced at Tanya as furtively as possible, so as not to attract anyone’s attention. He noticed that she remained completely calm, placing her hands on the desk, and the reflection of her face against the metallic gleaming light made him think that she had decided to treat her interlocutors with a look and expression worthy of the late Grand Moff Tarkin.

However, looking at the members of the council, the commissioners, the Moffs and the representatives of the corporations, Heren paid the most attention to Gregor Raquoran, who was not only the Chief Commissioner, or formally the head of government, but also the Commissioner of Finance and the Commissioner of Trade.

Heren didn't have to be a politician to be more than aware of how powerful and influential Commissioner Raquoran was. He respected him somewhat for that power and the ability to achieve it, but only somewhat and grudgingly. In truth, Heren genuinely hated the man who seemed to him to be probably the greatest scourge of the Pentastar, and for quite specific reasons.

As for the other major ones, such as High Moff Dekeet or the two corporate representatives, Elta Besk and Wyrn Otro, Heren had a more positive view of them. There were many specific reasons for that, too.

"Did Grand Moff Kaine order you to replace him during our council meeting?" Elta Besk asked, a raven-haired beauty with deep, very tempting makeup, but beneath the layers of which were reptilian scales, worthy of a cunning snake, ready to attack anyone who allowed her too much in her presence. “While I have nothing against it, I would have preferred that we were informed about it in advance, so that there would be no misunderstandings.”

Representative Elta Besk, like Representative Wyrn Otro, represented the interests and positions of the most important corporations in the Pentastar in the government. First and foremost, these were: Galentro Heavy Works, Dynamic Automata, Yaga Space Shipyards, Pentastar Fleet Systems and Entralla Drive Yards, the latter two having been established after the fall of the Imperial Center, and their main driving force were Imperial refugees from the Core worlds or others from the center of the galaxy.

“Exactly, as members of the government, we should have known about it in advance, because it has a direct impact, it is worth adding, on the quality of our session.” This time, the second representative, Otro, took the floor, a well-built, specific, but also very competent man, experienced in many years of participation in politics, and moreover an extremely responsible and conscientious man, almost incompatible with the world of galactic politics with all these features.

Chapter Text

Coruscant, the former Imperial Center and galactic capital for many decades, did not at this time, the time following the final defeat of the Emperor, give the impression of being a galactic capital.

In fact, the state of the planet-metropolis was more pathetic than after the battle during the final phase of the Clone Wars, or after the capture of the planet by the armed forces of the New Republic.

First the attack of the combined forces of the Imperial Warlords, which meant a devastating battle above the planet and the wreckage of hundreds of ships of various types that crashed into the buildings on the planet, and then the laser storms that melted or blew away, if not the tops or mid-levels of the mighty and majestic skyscrapers above the clouds, then the lower floors or tiers.

At least the residents were not deprived of electricity or access to water, only food prices went up, but not enough, nor did the level of food supply decrease enough to lead to mass starvation. So there was no reason to consider the whole situation a horror.

However, this was only the beginning of the nightmare, because when the armed forces of the empire and the warlords gathered above the planet, failed to emerge a leader after the battle and long negotiations, or at least create a provisional form of leadership between them. When the joint fight ended and acts of treason or attempted usurpation began, then the situation got out of control.

The full-fledged, full-scale Imperial Civil War on Coruscant was what, in retrospect, was a real nightmare. First, fighting on the planet's surface, on different floors and many districts, and often three- or four-sided, between the units of different warlords. Later, orbital bombardments, support from star bombers during combat, bombing of strategic targets, terrorist and sabotage units were added to this. Not to mention the absolutely chaotic confrontation between several different fleets of the empire above the planet's surface.

The planet, already severely devastated, was stripped of its former wealth and splendor in the most literal sense of the word. The chaos was crowned by epidemics of diseases, widespread acts of cannibalism among the inhabitants. Even among those refined and civilized, who at the first signs of chaos and shortages, began to devour each other like wild animals. However, even acts of cannibalism did not stop the epidemic of hunger, and billions would face the effects of weakened organisms in the future.

It seemed that the return of the Emperor, or his final death and the recapture of the planet by the armed forces of the Republic, would bring some form of salvation, but it did not happen. Or rather, it happened only partially.

It was possible to restore food supplies to the planet for the survivors of the war nightmare, but the absolute collapse of the planet's wealth and its inhabitants forced the government to implement aid programs. Support from the central budget was also necessary for the reconstruction, which according to experts was to be completed in a decade at best. And considering that these were optimistic assumptions, it was not difficult to verify their credibility.

Despite this, however, some of the old skyscrapers or hotels survived, untouched by bolts or artillery shells, or even used by the fighting sides in a tactical or strategic role. It was something rare, but it did happen. One of such places was the hotel "Our Center", located in the northern hemisphere of the planet, at a distance close to the pole.

Finding this hotel was not an easy matter, and if it were not for the contacts made over many years and during many missions, Wedge Antilles would not have been able to book a room for himself and his wife, Iella. Despite all the odds against him, the devastation of the planet, the poor health service and police force, aided by the New Republic Military Police, he had managed to do so. And so that day, as evening approached and the sun was inevitably giving way to darkness, he could enjoy a moment of respite after a day of hard work.

His wife, right after he returned home, had given him more than enough reasons to enjoy this time together, as was of course ultimately destined for this extraordinary woman and man.

Her tight and revealing, some more traditional and virtuous would say too much, affected the New Republic general like a scarlet rag to the Zygerrian Bull, and he went on a blind and full of a mixture of passion and lust attack.

The stress of the past months evaporated as the act of love, born of passion, between a married couple devoted to each other began in the bedroom.

They hadn't even managed to tear off all their clothes when, amidst a series of passionate kisses on both sides, they finally reached the bed and after exposing the body parts necessary for the act of copulation, everything began.

The Antilles couple did... it would be more accurate to say that they simply fucked many times, but very rarely in such circumstances and they tried many positions. Only Wedge firmly opposed his wife's wish to copulate in the cockpit of his starfighter, because he had no doubt that after something like that it would be harder for him to concentrate during a fight or mission, and as a pilot, one moment of inattention could mean being sent to eternity.

Here, in the bedroom, they were not bound by any such limits, but nevertheless they limited themselves to the bed and after very aggressively ripping off each other's clothes, they began copulating in earnest, coming several times.
Iella took it so well that she flooded the sheets with her love juices several times, while Wedge, at the appropriate moment marked by the cessation of his hip movements, spilled his white seed inside her.

"Wedge!" Iella sighed loudly, while her husband continued to move his hips, bringing her almost to climax for the umpteenth time that evening, which neither she nor her husband counted. "I'm about to come!"

It was in moments like these that the couple felt complete, being connected during the shorter or longer moments when their genitals were connected. Her husband moved his hips, repeatedly inserting and almost withdrawing his member, only to push it in as far as it would go, which, due to his wife's fairly wide birth canal, was not all that demanding. Meanwhile, she, reveled in it to the fullest, even if this pleasure was nothing more than an instinctive and mindless sensation.
The energy, born in the process of intense activity, lasted the physically well-developed couple for a long time and as a result, they came together 4 times that day, and now he was finally approaching the 5th time.

"Me too!" Wedge growled, not slowing down for a moment, as he had always done during their long-term relationship, which had been an extremely satisfying experience for him, not only because of the opportunity to experience numerous pleasures of the physical nature.

Finally, Wedge thrust harder and deeper, which resulted in the spilling of his seed inside his wife, without releasing a single drop. This was not so much the climax of another time, but a much quicker beginning of the end, followed by a violent ending.

The husband and wife sprawled in bed, taking deep breaths that were evidence of their exhaustion. They didn't particularly care about the position they would be in, but it was strange that they both ended up lying on their backs, covered by a thin but warm enough blanket.

"Wedge." Iella sighed loudly, being covered only partially by one of the several blankets, her pink nipple exposed, quite large and standing, like a soldier during an inspection. "You did it again."

Iella was a truly beautiful woman, with long but currently completely untidy and chaotic blonde hair, which reached her back. Her delicate, but at the same time having not only feminine, facial features. Black eyes, which normally carried hidden danger for the enemy and a hint of cunning, were at this moment devoid of it and as dull as all of this woman's senses.
What was most obvious, however, were the muscles in her arms, quite well developed and shaped, especially for a woman. Muscles that, although they were not as strong as her husband's, were made even more attractive by the sweat dripping down from repeated copulation.

Wedge, although due to his gender and the numerous psychological advantages resulting from it, should have towered over his wife, was nevertheless equally exhausted. Their mutual fucking was always a battle of attrition, but instead of the usual lack of winners in this type of war, both were victorious and satisfied, although extremely tired.

Wedge merely reached for the bottle of good, but low-alcohol wine lying on the nightstand on his side. "It never bothered you. Especially since you always use those, as you described it: miraculous contraceptive drops."

Iella yawned, then her fingers from her right hand directed themselves to her husband's chest. "I'm afraid I'll have to stop for a while. The contraceptive drops from Mon Cala, like the ones she uses, can often only be used for a short time, after which they can cause serious complications. In extreme cases, even death.”

The former commander of the Rogue Squadron, and current General of the NRDF Pilot Corps, which was short for the “New Republic Defense Force”, of the New Republic, was more than pleased with what had just taken place. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back. Your body, my dear, is simply too tempting to look at.”

Iella just laughed, before placing a quick but passionate kiss on his cheek. “So let’s do it again, while we still can, without risking it.”

Before they could continue, Wedge interrupted her. “Are you that eager to continue this so soon?”

Their frequent but regular inhalations and exhalations spoke volumes on the subject, along with the tremors of some of the members. Realizing this, Iella just laughed before falling back once more, resting her head on the pillow.

"You're right about that, although I wish it were otherwise." Iella sighed heavily, taking several deep breaths and slow exhalations. "However, I would like our nights to result in more than just fleeting moments of pleasure." Wedge looked at her, absolutely serious, while forgoing any teasing he usually did on such occasions. "Iella, I want children too, but it wouldn't be the wisest thing to do in this situation."

Indeed, the current situation was not the most encouraging for having a family. The dramatic situation, the heavy military, political and economic losses that the New Republic suffered during the Shadow Hand operation, led directly to a crisis of the state, in which the state for which Wedge and Iella fought was currently severely experienced.

The annihilation of entire fleets led to the need to cannibalize patrol fleets for the needs of the line fleets, as a result of which piracy began to flourish. In a direct line, this led to the collapse of supplies, trade and the crisis of hunger in many worlds of the Core, Colonies and Inner Rim. Above all, those most heavily urbanized, and the number of people who died of hunger was counted in tens of millions.

Another crime of the deceased and finally defeated Galactic Emperor.

The riots that broke out in connection with this, the flourishing of criminal groups and small gangs, forced the central government to decide to support police formations on many planets, through regular military units, mainly the army.

Meanwhile, the resulting economic crisis led to financial problems for the central budget and forced cost cutting. Above all, politicians severely reduced the fleet and pilot corps budgets. What Wedge was pleased about, or rather what brought him relief, was the fact that they had only reduced funds for expansion, but not for reconstruction after Shadow Hand. Even that, however, had to take many months and had to involve countless resources.

"I know, my beloved." Iella sat up, not trying to cover an inch of her chest in this intimate moment for the two of them. "The Empire still exists and fights..."

"At least what is left of the Empire itself." Then, a smile appeared on her face, tinged with an obvious hint of malice. "Funny how things have turned around over the years. Once, the supporters of the restoration of the Republic were disorganized, scattered, without a single leader, often even fighting among themselves."

It was a smile worthy of one who had slain one of the once-vital pillars of the Galactic Empire, Iceheart herself, head of Imperial Intelligence.

"They are not to be underestimated," Wedge admonished his wife, placing a hand on her neck, sending a brief shiver down her spine. "Even now, after the massive losses in the aftermath of the Shadow Hand's defeat, although our intelligence analysts indicate that the strategic reserves of the vast majority of the Warlords have been depleted, they still pose a great threat."

"Even divided." Iella sighed loudly, the almost titanic weariness of the rebellion and the fighting that seemed endless but had come to define her and her husband's adult lives evident in her sigh. "At least that intelligence operation involving the assassination of Grand Moff Kaine was a complete success, and the countdown to the Pentastar Alignment's descent into internal conflict is now underway."
It was a single piece of good news, which for the couple meant a slight, small, but still improvement in their mood. “So one less Imperial faction to worry about?”

The wife's rhetorical question did not remain unanswered by her husband for long. “According to our analysts, primarily those from intelligence, the Pentastar has no chance of survival in the short term, let alone the long term. Too many opposing interest groups and too many conflicts.”

“I know that, for about a year now I have been analyzing materials provided by agents from the northern part of the known galaxy.” Iella fixed a few ends of hair falling in front of her eyes. “To be honest, I both understand and do not understand the reason why it was decided to eliminate the Grand Moff, using the last Grand Admiral.”

Seeing the surprise on the face of her husband, who was a pilot corps officer through and through, she decided to explain her thoughts on the matter. “On the one hand, Grand Moff Ardus Kaine was one of the most powerful Imperial Warlords, with vast and high-quality resources that had been virtually undiminished by years of fratricidal warfare due to the Pentastar Alignment’s extreme isolationism. Furthermore, Kaine had been able, if our agents and their reports were to be believed, to hold the formation together through his rare ability to compromise and broker. However, he was never to have the slightest ambition to become the next Galactic Emperor.”

Personally, Wedge had absolutely conflicting feelings about the late Grand Moff.

On the one hand, he was undoubtedly an enemy of the New Republic, and one of the warlords who maintained at least a shadow of the ideals that Wedge, his wife, and countless others had fought against, many of whom would not live to see that day.

On the other hand, Ardus Kaine was undoubtedly a moderate and capable man. Capable of both containing his own ambitions, but also of sustaining his own faction.

After all, the enemy was still the enemy, and Wedge personally had no doubt that if he were dead and the Grand Moff was alive, receiving a report of his death, it was doubtful that the man would have similar thoughts or concerns.

On the other hand, one question kept popping up in his subconscious: if this titan, who had almost single-handedly sustained the Pentastar, had passed into history, what next?

It was true that the territory of the Pentastar Alignment was quite far from the borders of the New Republic. After all, what would happen if someone more aggressively inclined were to take power? More focused on expansion?

“The only person in the Pentastar who had a huge influence on the Grand Moff was his daughter, responsible for the near-complete eradication of piracy or the economic boom that the planets that made up that country had experienced.” Iella couldn't hide the slight admiration in her voice for the woman whose life had at that moment taken an exceptionally uncertain turn.

Wedge, personally, was confused by the tone with which his wife's words were colored at one point in her statement.

Admiration close to sincere respect, which Wedge easily caught. "You seem to like her."

Iella only turned her head sharply to the side, causing the ends of her hair to hit her husband's face, and she reached for the thin yellow dressing gown. "Do not confuse admiration for a woman who made a career in the structures of the empire thanks to her own abilities, under unfavorable circumstances, with sympathy for her. Although she is not a monster like Ysanne or Vader, she is still our enemy and everything we have fought for all these years."

Wedge only nodded, then reached for a small console, mounted in the night table, located next to the side of the bed he occupied. "The war will continue. I am not a strategist and it is beyond my abilities to determine how much longer blood will have to be shed for the freedom and peace we guard. Still, I'm glad we can forget about this mess for a while."

Iella laughed, as if her husband's words were a spark thrown into an open fuel tank. "And yet even now, in the moment following our marital life, we are unable to talk about anything but war and politics!"

"Then let's not do this anymore, my love." Wedge said, then began typing a command into the console, wanting to watch any program on the HoloNet and indulge in this passive form of entertainment. "No talk of politics or work this evening!"

His resolution, however, was made at the most ironic moment. The hologram display, built into the floor in front of their double bed, displayed a broadcast from a news service, and soon a passionate but familiar voice resounded in the bedroom. "Citizens, soldiers and officials, we have suffered a great tragedy and loss, the likes of which we have not experienced since the first death of our great Emperor!"

Wedge and Iella flinched, then their gaze turned sharply towards the hologram, which, due to the cameras aimed at this person, presented a white man, already approaching fifty. Apart from the voice, still remembered by many inhabitants of the Galaxy, primarily the former Imperial space.

However, this man, although his voice attracted attention, his face did too, but for completely different reasons. Advanced cybernetics and artificial eyes, glowing with an ominous, strong crimson light. Meanwhile, the mouth, already made entirely of durasteel, or rather some more malleable metal similar in appearance, moved smoothly, attracting the attention of the Antilles couple.

To top it all off, there were scars on the remains of skin, which were a grim reminder of this man's past.

Alec, Pradeux, once one of the most trusted Imperial Advisors and one of the main propagandists of the empire and promoters of the ideals of the New Order. Practically the entire period of the existence of the former Galactic Empire, even the period of fighting the rebellion, when he had to explain the failures or partial successes of the empire and its institutions, did not negatively affect his career.

The breakdown came only after the death of Grand Admiral Rufaan Tigellinus. Alec, as one of the people most closely associated with the deceased officer, was forced to flee to the territory of the Pentastar Alignment, during which an attempt on his life took place, which almost ended in success. If not for the extensive body modifications as a result of a far-reaching operation, this man would undoubtedly be dead by now.

The case of this man was an example of a much wider trend of escape of all kinds of exiles, imperial refugees or officials, who sought opportunities for a new life in the territory of the Pentastar Alignment.

"Friends, brothers and sisters!" Then the holoprojector fully displayed the speech transmission, showing thousands of soldiers, officers and civilians gathered in a vast square, all in front of a large lectern, where the highest officials of the Pentastar were seated, but even they and the former Imperial Advisor who was speaking, were seated lower and under another dais, where a young and rather petite woman with blond hair stood in a blue cape and a dark blue variant of an Imperial officer's uniform.

"We have lost the founder of our state, who in a moment of chaos, uncertainty, crisis, a time of contempt for poverty and hunger, provided us with the peace, stability, growth and order that we so desperately needed in the darkest hour of the Galactic Empire." The former Imperial Advisor continued, maintaining a calm but determined tone of voice. "However, will the fall of one, perhaps one of the most important pillars, cause the structure in which we live to begin to crumble and fall apart?" It was a rhetorical question, to which the answer came very quickly, during which Pradeux raised his voice and violently raised his fist. “Never! The edifice that was raised, forged and strengthened from the ashes of the old New Order, all these years, is incomparably stronger than any of our enemies would ever admit!”

The speaker continued his speech, while the half-naked couple wordlessly approached each other and continued to watch the transmission from the other side of the galaxy.

“Citizens, brothers and sisters!” Alec Pradeux was very expressive during his speech, and despite not being very handsome in face, he was still able to affect the masses, who were able to find a lot of attractiveness in him. “The words of our leaders and your cries are unequivocal: we will not bow down, in the face of this crisis! We will fight, even with broken bottles or durasteel batons, if there is nothing else at hand! We will fight for something greater than ourselves, for a greater ideal of progress, order, and abundance that will bring prosperity and purpose to all! For this, our leader, Grand Moff Ardus Kaine, fought and was murdered by the degenerates of the rebellion!"

The camera then switched to the large crowd. There was no great order there, except for the front rows of soldiers in seemingly silver armor, who chanted the loudest. Right behind them, the mixed crowds of civilians, soldiers, and officers began to chant as well, raising clenched fists in the air as an additional show of firm support.

"Brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of the New Order!" Alec Pradeux silenced the crowd after a moment, without much trouble. "This is not the end, this is merely a new beginning, for all of us! If this were to be the beginning of the end for our great empire, the great New Order, then how could one explain the fact that, despite repeated blows, the empire still stands!? We may be divided, but we still fight! Dead or alive, we stick together towards a common destiny, no matter what, my comrades in this fight!"

Then, more and more applauses of the gathered crowd, numbering at least several thousand, could be heard. They all chanted slogans of support and encouragement for the new leadership of this country.

Meanwhile, Wedge and Iella simply felt extremely strange, observing the joyful cheers of so many people. Cheers for another remnant of the former Galactic Empire, which was now donning new clothes.

"Comrades, I tell you that I do not speak these words to you as a ghost of the past and the times of our former glory, but as an angel of the future!" Then he entered a command on the console in the rostrum, which was captured by the camera, and a moment later, in front of the gathered, an enlarged text of a new document was displayed, which was also captured by the camera, but a different one. "Here is a document on the establishment of a new institution, which is and will be necessary for us to survive this storm, this contempt and horror! An institution that will not try to maintain the old and long outdated status quo as a facade! An institution that will allow the values ​​we profess to really adapt to reality!"

“The remnants of our former glory, the ashes of the golden age of plenty and peace, gave rise to the Commission for the Preservation and Evolution of the New Order, COMPENO! An institution of which I will have the honor of being the First Secretary, which will be divided into the Public Enlightenment Service, the State Security Service and the State Modernization Service! Institutions that will provide us not only with security and continuity, but also with the necessary internal stability, in these troubled times!”

The rest of the speech, although still captivating and almost magically making the time pass a little faster, was listened to by the couple with the utmost attention, especially since neither Iella nor Wedge were yet entirely sure of the meaning of all this. They knew, for it was clear, that what was supposed to be the funeral of the Grand Moff had turned into a great political manifestation.

The whole, although maintained in an atmosphere of pure pomp, was nevertheless a strange mixture that caused a certain dissonance in the couple's feelings. On the one hand, big words and aggressively lively expression of the speaker, on the other hand, declarations of establishing further institutions, which, although they should have slowed everything down and made it monotonous, the previous factor made everything exceptionally dynamic.

This moment was the epitome of why Alec Pradeux was the main communicator and speaker when the Emperor was unavailable or when unattractive or embarrassing explanations had to be made. After all, it was this man who made the announcement to the population of the galaxy under Imperial control and beyond, about the destruction of the first Death Star.

Finally, after many words of praise and listing of the increasingly improbable merits and virtues of the deceased Grand Moff, it was time to announce his successor.

"Citizens!" Alec Pradeux began this part, seemingly not needing a moment to swallow or gather his thoughts. "As I mentioned earlier, the old has passed, leading us on the path to the new, and its first, most obvious effect is the emergence of a new leader for our stronghold of stability and prosperity."

He then pointed behind him, with a fluid and strong movement of his left hand, to the blonde-haired, petite, and seemingly inconspicuous woman sitting above, dressed in a standard, gray uniform. “The members of the Pentastar Council, and the highest-ranking officers, have jointly reached a consensus that the successor of the deceased Grand Moff should be his daughter, Tanya Kaine, to whom we owe the complete cure of our territory from the plague of piracy and corruption caused by the enrichment of our state, its citizens and institutions!”

“A new and highest official-military position will be created for this purpose, which will combine several functions.” His tone of voice dropped slightly, taking on much more balance and dignity. “Head of State, Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces, and Superior of the Pentastar Council. The highest position in our state, Warlady. By extension, all officers, bureaucrats, public employees and soldiers are required to swear an oath of unconditional and complete obedience to the Warlady!”

The Antilles couple had no doubts about what would happen next.

“Do you, the loyal sons and daughters of the Galactic Empire gathered here, swear!?” Pradeux asked and did not have to wait long for an answer.

“We do!” Came the answer, primarily from the most visible officers and officials standing behind the former advisor’s tribune.

After a moment, the petite woman spoke, and all the cameras turned centrally to her.

“Thank you for this declaration of loyalty. I know that it has incomparably greater value than any treaty signed between planets or galactic states ever.” Her voice was not as loud as the former advisor's and her body language was not as expressive, all of this gave way to complete determination on her part, a durasteel gaze that seemed to promise suffering, fire and blood to literally anyone who dared to challenge her. “Today, with the burial of my father, the former Pentastar Alignment passes forever to the land of brave warriors. This day is thus marked by a new beginning, for here is the rebirth of an empire, whose ashes were torn apart and destroyed for years by rebels and power-hungry individuals who squandered our resources on fighting each other. This, citizens, is the beginning of a reborn Galactic Empire!”

Wedge and Iella exchanged glances, both having a really bad feeling about this.

“All hail reborn Empire!” Tanya Kaine raised her voice at the end, as did her left hand, which was clenched into a fist, while those gathered in the square at the funeral did the same.

“All hail!” The transmission was then switched to the people gathered in the square, who began to chant for their Warlady. “All hail!”

“All hail!”

“All hail!”

“All hail!”

“All hail!”

“All hail!”

Both Wedge and Iella, almost at the same time, drew closer to each other. Both of them almost instinctively fell into each other's embrace, feeling both small and insignificant in the face of the massive masses of people shown on the HoloNet, chanting for their new leader.

However, the transmission soon came to an end, while the reporter began to comment on the event. As it quickly turned out, it was being broadcast to the entire galaxy. Or at least the part of the galaxy that the Pentastar space relays could reach, but it was still the vast majority of the entire galaxy.

"She made a grand declaration." Iella commented on that after a moment. "A declaration that may mean more than we currently realize. The only person who knows anything about it beyond a shadow of a doubt is Warlady herself."

From their perspective, a small-bodied enemy, yet standing above them, amidst hundreds of durasteel ships, looking down on them all. An enemy that was definitely beyond their reach, at least at that moment.

Chapter Text

The reaction to her father's funeral was exactly as Alec had described it in private, quite a bit of commotion and euphoria. The pompous nature of the funeral, along with the painting of a new and bright future for the masses, all of this had the effect of creating a general euphoria in society, but not just in her territories.

Reports from Ubiqtorate and what was left of the ISB clearly indicated that there had also been a major outburst of euphoria among the civilian populations of worlds controlled by the remaining warlords, and it didn't take Tanya long to figure out what was causing it.

The Imperial Civil War had been going on for almost a decade, depending on how you interpret it, and people were tired of the constant fighting among the Imperial Warlords, tired of the lack of a clear or even any vision of regaining control of the galaxy. All it took was a glimmer of hope to awaken a great deal of sympathy for her.

Tanya was just beginning to seriously explore and delve into the realm of the mind of intelligent beings. This experience, especially as a result of numerous conversations with Alec, the experience of previous lives, finally dispelled her illusions, or rather the remnants of illusions, about the rationality of so-called intelligent beings.

However, the reactions from the New Republic, and the other warlords themselves, were different. The press officer of the largest state in the galaxy, Bothannin Otlor We'lyon, strongly condemned her as an illegal autocrat and war criminal. Although these were empty words and slander without reliable evidence, it was clear that they expressed the mood within the Republic itself. Meanwhile, other Imperial Warlords also condemned her takeover and declarations. Especially the most powerful, the Teradoc brothers duo.

That said, all of that. The entire chain of events since the funeral, the three weeks that had passed since then, had led inevitably to one thing. First, 47:2:12 after the Great ReSynchronization, thus entering the galaxy into the 12th year after the destruction of the first Death Star, and 9 years after the death of the Emperor. Second, the long-planned meeting aboard the Salamander. A meeting of immense importance for the Warlord of the Pentastar was to meet with the new Chairwoman of the Kuat Drive Yard, Lira Wessex. All in Tanya's personal salon aboard her flagship.

The ship that was to be Tanya's personal ship for only one more week. The cannibalization of her father's former flagship had enabled not only the order to be completed ahead of schedule, but also the redirection of many experienced crew members.

The meeting, which had basically begun with the invited woman entering the versatile, elegant, yet utilitarian salon, was dictated by several factors. In the longer term, the need for Pentastar Pentastar to expand its economic and technological cooperation with Kuat Drive Yards. This was primarily due to the uncertain galactic situation. And all through the Corporate Sector, the state-sector and its associated economic entities.

A state-sector that, although formally neutral, actually traded and did business with both sides of the conflict. Tanya had no qualms about using this to her advantage.

Meanwhile, as for Lira herself, who entered the salon with the grace of a noble lady from the Galactic Core, she was a woman on whom hard work, the mark of stress and dedication to duty had clearly left their mark. Her hair, once bordering on black and brown, had prematurely and completely turned grey. Her features were covered with numerous wrinkles. In addition, the woman had clearly gained weight and was a contrast to the previously thin girl in early middle age.

Seeing her, Tanya had the impression for a moment that she was seeing a completely different woman before her eyes, even though she had spoken to her many times via holo-transmission. It was one thing to see something on a screen or through, and quite another to see it live.

Despite everything, the chairwoman of Kuat Drive Yards was more than determined to continue her work and career. There was still a glow in her eyes that would be more appropriate for someone younger.

“I must admit,” Lira began, after settling comfortably into one of the sofas in the living room, enjoying the comfort offered by the soft backrest. “That the funeral, although quite pompous, was indeed very successful, and if I hadn’t known your… slightly more realistic side, I would have even believed in your dedication to the cause of the empire and the New Order.”

Tanya, who had maintained a good relationship with the new Chairman of the KDY for many years, was surprised by her words, while taking a seat on the other sofa, opposite Lira, and gracefully crossing her legs. “Do you really think so little about me?”

Lira just laughed, taking a sip of tea from the porcelain cup in front of her and after drinking a large portion of the liquid, licked her lips, not sticking her tongue out, even for a moment. “Always, since the first time I saw you in the front row during my lecture.”

Lira maintained her smile as she looked straight into the eyes of her former student, who remained unfazed and colder than the empty space. “I saw that ambition. The way you always tirelessly pursue your goal, working hard even to the point of using other students as your own pushovers.”

“How can you be so sure that it was my selfish ambition and not my devotion to our great Emperor and his ideals?” Tanya showed no emotion. Her mask of leather and flesh that might as well have been durasteel was as well-put on as ever, and even better, despite being with one of the few people Warlady herself could call intimate.

“Stop talking complete nonsense, Tanya.” Lira held back a snort. “I know an ambitious beast in the body of an intelligent being when I see one. Just as you would never outsmart a con man, I would never be outsmarted by the smokescreen of patriotism or the excuses of duty. You are like me, you have exploited the empire. Despite making our careers as fair and voluptuous women harder, we have both accomplished more than any of the old sexist pricks who have hindered our path to power and influence in the Known Galaxy."

Tanya wasn't going to deny what was essentially and fundamentally true. After all, it wasn't entirely true, which is almost always ambiguous and in certain shades of gray.

"You're not wrong. The Empire, the ideals of the New Order, were just a ladder for me, on which I could get, if not to the very top, then at least as close to it as possible." Tanya answered her, but directed her gaze to the holo-portrait on the wall, depicting her and her father. "However, if my desire to seize opportunities and opportunities were the only truth, I would have long ago deserted to the New Republic, to the camp of the victors, to build my career there."

Lira raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of tea, feeling the need to ask the question that appeared in her mind, which was one of those questions that a person simply had to ask. "So why didn't you do it? Why didn't you choose the easier path? Why risk your own life if you can end this quickly and easily?”

“For several reasons, Lira.” Tanya immediately began to answer, before taking a sip of tea from her cup, enjoying the excellent aroma of the drink. “Mainly because it would be a deal with the devil that would never pay off for me in the end.”

Warlady did not take her eyes off her interlocutor, who was patiently waiting for further explanation. “First of all, the most convenient time for this, looking back, would have been the very beginning of the birth of the Rebellion itself, even before the official establishment of the Alliance to Restore the Republic itself. If I had survived that first and extremely turbulent period, then I could have taken a high rank now, in the government of the New Republic. However, it was too late for that now, and either after joining I would have engaged in a life-and-death struggle with numerous people who would almost certainly get rid of me, or I would have to settle for a gray, perhaps convenient, mediocrity. However, there was no way she would decide on something like that. I am an ambitious woman who seizes opportunities as soon as I see them, and… well, I guess I don’t need to say anything more.”

Seeing the sincerity in her former student’s gaze, Lira took another sip. “Well, that’s not the main reason for our meeting. Isn’t it?”

Tanya then allowed herself to slightly remove the pure and cold professionalism from her face, in favor of something a little warmer. “Yes, in the face of certain difficulties, let me put it mildly, there were problems with completing the construction of quite a few shipyards, as well as completing the general expansion of the existing ones.”

Curious, Lira decided to ask about a few details of this new contract. “Prosperity and wealth created the opportunity to develop the arms industry, for the constantly growing armed forces?"

“Exactly.” Tanya nodded. “Numerous refugees, Imperial loyalists, technicians, engineers and military. All those classes that fled over the years of the Imperial Civil War to us, together with our own human resources, joined forces and using the developed infrastructure and financial resources, were able to create our economic miracle. A better economy means, of course, the possibility of expanding the armed forces, which in the current situation of galactic politics was inevitable. Nevertheless, despite creating a base for the production of new personnel, our shipyards turned out to be insufficient for the needs of my expanding star fleet.”

“What planets are these, where our specialists will be needed?” Lira continued asking questions.

“New shipyards, a dozen or so in all and quite large, were to be built on or near Dolis 3, Bastion, and Varvron.” Tanya took a sip of her tea, which had long since replaced her coffee as a drink, as it was much tastier without sugar and allowed her to calm her mind. “Meanwhile, the Yaga Minor shipyard was to be expanded to a level that would allow for the production of 150 Imperial-class Star Destroyers per month, if the workforce and resources were concentrated there.”

Lira whistled, impressed. “The Yaga Minor shipyards alone, if I am not mistaken, provide 60% of the monthly capacity of the shipyard ring above Kuat, at least in wartime operation of the shipyards. I can see you have been very busy, and that must have cost a lot.”

“No more than you can probably imagine, Lira.” Tanya replied, placing her right foot over her left. “Billions of credits, the efforts of hundreds of thousands of workers and droids. All to make these systems the center of the Pentastar Alignment’s arms industry. In truth, I had initially planned to further expand the state’s economy, but certain circumstances forced me to begin mobilization, to launch the first offensive, and to use the not-yet-fully-ready navy.”

“Life doesn’t always give us what we want.” Lira dismissed her words briefly. “Still, it’s good to know that Kuat Drive Yards’ investments can pay off… And as for our specialists and assistance, we can work out some unofficial agreements.”

For the first time since the conversation began, Tanya allowed a cold smile to appear on her face, expressing her joy at such a turn of events. “So can I consider this done?”

“Of course, and don’t worry about transporting the workers.” Lira replied, finishing her tea as she did so. “Indeed, since Kuat fell and our vast annular super-shipyard, a source of pride to generations of Kuati, is still being repaired, our main source of income has been unofficial contracts.”

“Unofficial?” Tanya already had an idea, but she preferred to hear it straight from her mouth.

“Building or repairing shipyard infrastructure for Imperial Warlords, primarily those in the Deep Core.” There was no doubt that this was the time for honest words from her, something that people in her position rarely could afford. “We have basically built the ability to survive and sustain pathetic micro-states that now resemble fragmented gangs of a once powerful organization. Kuat Drive Yards, our specialists, and the shipyards we have built are exactly what still fuels the ever-flagging engine of the former Galactic Empire. What’s more, even with the destruction of our shipyards, we are still able to produce entire ships or spare parts if needed. Heck, we have even begun to sell Tibana fuel and gas to some indirectly. So we have practiced and developed the proper procedures for providing specialists and building shipyards.”

To Tanyia, who was more than aware of certain economic rules and intricacies, this was nothing new. However, for many of her fellow officers, it would no longer be so obvious. “Then I am happy that thanks to my efforts and hard work, Pentastar has remained independent from you. Now, however, I would like to know the specific amount of money that all this may cost.”

Lira shrugged noncommittally at this point. “It depends on the current condition of the structures. However, the highest amount, at least in my opinion, is around 7,500,000,000 credits. The highest and at that a rough estimate, so don’t expect such a large expenditure in the end.”

“That will not be the slightest problem.” Tanya admitted. “Our treasuries are full and we have a fixed fund for such installations, in the annual state budget.”

“Then I can safely assume that Kuat Drive Yards has just gained another contract.”

The rest of the conversation covered more, less formal than the previous trade and business agreements. All in a more casual manner, perfectly suited to the two old friends.

There was a brief moment when the conversation almost became much more difficult. A moment when Lira demanded a large influence for KDY, in the Pentastar industry, and the possibility of further expansion by creating a subsidiary company, Pentastar Drive Yards, operating exclusively within the borders of this country.

To Tanya, the possibility of someone outside the country and loyal only to themselves having a strong economic influence did not sound good, but there was no other option but to accept, at least for now…

XXX

“Gentlemen, I think we can begin.” Tanya announced to everyone gathered, and they all sat down at the table, made in the shape of the Pentastar crest, which glowed with a faint blue light.

The meeting in question was a Pentastar High Command meeting, convened just a week after Tanyia’s conversation with Lira. However, not in the state capital, but instead in one of the many strongholds on the heavily industrialized planet, once known as Sartinaynian, and currently Bastion. The planet, at which workers and specialists from the Kuat Drive Yards were supposed to arrive on the day of the meeting to fulfill a contract.

From the very meeting, Tanya focused on preparations, choosing the best place for the state’s expansion. In addition, it required supervising the concentration of ships, primarily forming a new, dedicated squadron, because operating alone would be difficult, risky, and too slow. Especially if the last target of the first phase of the campaign was to be a fortress world conquered not so long ago by the New Republic.

In addition, the first official COMPENO meeting took place just two days ago. A meeting significant in that all those gathered could only quietly and obediently accept its decisions, having no real influence.

Meanwhile, Warlady herself decided to establish 3 new institutions: the Public Enlightenment Service, the State Security Service and the Black Armor Corps. The first, under the direct leadership of Alec Pradeux, was to be the actual ministry of propaganda, promoting narratives and views in line with Tanyia's line. The State Security Service, which was to be formed from the ISB, Order and Enforcement, was to play a counterintelligence and secret police role, acting against any attempt to use force against the Pentastar. The last institution, but not the least important, was to be the successor to the Stormtrooper Corps, but with changed equipment and an improved type of old armor, modeled on the second phase of the clone trooper armor.

Additionally, COMPENO was to be subordinated to and managed by the First Secretary, who had been re-appointed Advisor Pradeux, making his power and political influence immense. Tanya knew exactly what kind of person was given this imperative and responsibility. An ambitious man, a skilled orator and politician, but a poor economist, poor at gaining allies, and quite easily at odds with the people he was supposed to work with.

All gathered: Lord Admiral Torbec, General Veers, Vice Admiral Elred Stahl, High General Curt Starros, Admiral Sauckel, General Turr Phennir, and others. All of them were ready to take the first steps towards the first major and independent offensive operation that the Pentastar Alignment was to conduct.

"But before we get to the point, gentlemen..." Tanya then grabbed her personal communicator, intending to finally present her new flagship. “Captain Peavey, if the ship has already been disconnected, please bring it as close to the atmosphere as possible so that we may see the new pride of the Royal Pentastar Navy.”

Her words had an effect almost immediately, as the officers rushed to look at the window through which Tanya herself was observing the sky. At first, there was nothing there, except for the shipyard facilities located above the planet’s surface and the constant flying of small ships, either to or from the planet. After a moment, however, they could see the true monster, the sight of which must have undoubtedly caused panic among the inhabitants.

“Is that…?” The question fell from General Phennir’s lips, and Tanya, without turning around, allowed herself a brief smile.

“A Super Star Destroyer, or Star Dreadnought, Sovereign MK.III class.” Warledy decided to present them with what would soon become not only the flagship of her fleet, but also the center from which many important decisions, both political and military, would be made. "I decided to get rid of the large but expensive super laser, in favor of better armament than the basic version. 565 heavy laser cannons, 565 turbo laser batteries, 100 ion cannons, 85 torpedo launchers, and over 300 point weapon cannons. In addition, eliminating the turbo laser allowed the total number of squadrons that could fit there to increase from 40 to 50 air wings and the ability to transport troops, from 130,000 to almost 200,000, which would once mean 15 legions of stormtroopers, for example."

Tanya then realized that the ship did not yet have a proper name, so she quickly reached for the history of her homeland from her first life. “Let this pride of our fleet bear the name… 'Yamato'.”

The highest-ranking officers exchanged glances, especially those who were well-versed in logistics. However, all their thoughts were finally expressed by General Phennir.

“Warlords, this is undeniably a super destroyer of powerful dimensions, but extremely expensive to operate and equip. It is ideally suited for a flagship, as well as for space battle. However, something of such size, such production and equipment costs, must be used skillfully and in the right place, otherwise it may be lost, without clear benefits and in very disappointing circumstances.”

“I am perfectly aware of that, General, but now…” She pointed to the table. “Return to the table. The time for admiration is over, the time for planning and cool calculation has come.”

Everyone dutifully followed orders, taking their stations. Lord Admiral Torbec returned to his seat on Tanya's right, while General Phennir sat on her left.

"The purpose of this meeting is as follows: to discuss and prepare the logistical basis for an operation to occupy that part of the Galactic North that will ultimately give us access to the Hydian Way, an extremely rich trade route and important communication route." Tanya revealed at least part of her motives to them right away. "In the long run, this is to open the way for rapid and decisive expansion, until it paves the way for us directly to the Corporate Sector."

Her idea was immediately liked by those who understood economics.

“We will cut off easy access for the New Republic to a vital part of the galactic economy.” Vice Admiral Elred Stahl, Inspector General of the Fleet and Pilot Corps, noted. “In addition, our own tolls on this trade route will give us a huge cash injection. Not to mention the annexation of additional territories, but securing control over these areas, pacifying rebellious sentiments, is another matter.”

“That is to be handled by the State Security Service, with significant support from the Black Armor Corps if necessary.” Tanya responded to this accusation briefly, but others soon followed.

“My lady, with all due respect…” Admiral Sauckel spoke up. “Would it not be better to direct our military expansion towards the Inner Rim and, above all, Bilbringi, a very large and powerful shipyard that could further strengthen our spaceship industry?”

Many others clearly shared the Admiral's view, but Tanya had foreseen resistance to her direction of expansion. She had a ready response to any such accusations.

"If we try, we will undoubtedly encounter very determined resistance from not only this Crimson Empire and its warlord, but also the forces of the New Republic, which is already preparing to deal with this potential unifying factor. Meanwhile, the forces of the Republicans in the Outer Rim, near our territory, are quite modest, as are the forces of the Imperial Warlords or those still loyal to the official Imperial government, whatever it may be."

These words clearly influenced everyone, who realized that it would be better for them to move towards the galactic west, while the enemy forces were not too numerous and the main ones in this area, tied up in heavy fighting with another Imperial faction.

Without further hesitation or doubt, plans were made, available reserves and numerous intelligence reports were submitted on potential enemy forces, the New Republic Navy and local Imperial Warlords.

To this end, Scourge Squadron was to be reinforced and placed under the command of someone else. This person was to be a woman personally recommended by Tanya herself.

It was finally agreed that Scourge Squadron would be reinforced by 4 Tector-class Star Destroyers, 6 Victory IIs, 4 Secutor-class Star Destroyers and would receive 5 new Tiger-class cruisers, each of which would carry a single air wing.

It was also determined that a new squadron, the Ardus Squadron, would be formed around the Yamato, under the command of Tanya herself, and would consist of 12 new Victorius-class Star Destroyers, 8 Tiger-class cruisers, and 2 Secutor-class Star Destroyers.

At this occasion, a clear division of duties was also made between the two squadrons. Scourge would concentrate on the planet Dubrillion in the system of the same name, from where an attack on Sernpidal in the Julevian system would be launched. Meanwhile, Ardus would concentrate in the Atrivis sector above the planet Fedje, from where an attack on Shaum Hii in the Tragan Cluster sector would be launched via Ketaris and Agamar, where the local governor of the sector still maintained a fairly large force. At least small for such a small warlord.

Finally, it was time to discuss the ultimate goal of the first phase of this campaign. Because during the meeting it was decided that two squadrons would need an operational break, in addition to reinforcements among the crews of the TIEs and the ground forces gathered on board.

"The final objective, gentlemen..." Tanya ordered a map of the upper Outer Rim to be displayed, then pointed to a specific planet. "Ciutric IV and this entire sector. Former stronghold of Prince-Admiral Delak Krennel. Now a New Republic stronghold, which however can be captured quite easily and at low cost if an attack is launched from two sides, by two squadrons simultaneously."

There were no protests against this decision. Instead, the assembled hastily moved on to the next matter, further militarization, expansion of the industrial base, expansion of the Silver Wing Corps, as well as bringing the Black Armor Corps to a combat-ready state, and thus deployment on the battlefield. However, the issue of the expansion of the armed forces, especially in the context of vehicles, has still not been resolved.

The Pentastar budget, even if it grew bigger every year thanks to tax revenues, would still not be enough to cover the simultaneous development of the army and fleet. Finally, it was decided to buy old but not completely outdated machines, primarily the heavy ones, the All Terrain Tactical Enforcer, AT-TE, as proven, universal, cheap and highly reliable machines.

All these decisions, as well as words about the need for further militarization of the state, expansion of the fleet with new ships, expansion of both elite Corps and territorial expansion towards the Corporate Sector, were tied together in a quickly outlined strategic directive. Strategic Directive Tanya Kaine I.

Initially, Tanya herself wanted the name "Pentastar Strategic Directive I" to be chosen, but strong pressure from other officers, arguing for the continued existence of the state with the life of her person, made her decide to choose her battle and let it go. Thus, fate began to follow a course charted by organic beings in a direction whose outcome only the Force knows...

Chapter Text

Days passed since the young Warlady signed the first strategic directive. The first formalized document, which was one of the first steps to defining her future and perhaps the future of the entire galaxy. One of the first steps that would inevitably, sooner or later, add up to an avalanche that would either sweep her and her country away or lead to victory, whatever that might be.

So many issues, so many variables and decisions of individual individuals that could change or only slightly affect the outcome of this seemingly permanent conflict that the galaxy had been in for years. The realization that the smallest mistake, poorly chosen words or a fatal judgment could have enormous consequences was overwhelming for many, and only the young woman's shortcomings as a person did not make it something permanently burdensome for her and negatively affect the quality of her work.

In this case, however, the work was to make sure that all preparations were completed properly, that there would be no sudden shortage of fuel, ammunition or spare parts in the middle of the operation. The lack of all three of these resources, key to the battlefield, was a very common, almost alarming, phenomenon among the fleets and armies of other Warlords. Something that should seemingly be unthinkable in space warfare, an era of advanced technology, blasters or mass travel through hyperspace. Something that, to Tanya's great surprise and embarrassment, plagued the remaining factions of the so-called Imperial Remnant and could be worse, because some intelligence reports even spoke of cannibalizing some ships, dismantling them, only to obtain parts and transfer the crews as replacements.

This was the main reason why Tanya had set off on a journey to the concentration of forces, choosing one of the new Tiger-class cruisers, the Morning Arrow, with modified and improved engines for fast travel. The destination was the planet Dubrillion, in the system of the same name. It was, as Warlady herself had read, a beautiful planet with lush vegetation, numerous continents. But most importantly, the planet was very rich, located on the Veragi Trade Route, which made it an ideal place as a center for the concentration of fleets for the offensive.

The journey itself must have taken its toll, even if the Morning Arrow was specially adapted for fast travel. Because of this, Tanya had quite a lot of time to devote herself, in her personal and modest office, to exactly what was one of her greatest pleasures: the ‘magic’ of tables, numbers, calculations and calculations. There was a lot of it, whole mountains of factors or data to consider and analyze. Whole rows of numbers and values, each of which played a smaller or greater role.

For an ordinary person, it was tedious work, dragging on forever and requiring great commitment. For her, it was something like pleasure. Analyzing data on production, organizational details or training pace, not to mention integrating subunits or crews of entire ships into one, and then implementing them into the entire system of armed forces.

The time spent traveling was undoubtedly one of the most efficiently and productively used. Seeing how different tools from several different manufacturers of machinery and equipment of the shipyard were used in different shipyards from Pentastar, she ordered the unification and release to the market of unified tools with similar properties and the same spare parts. An action that would shorten production time, costs and also improve the overall efficiency by at least less than 0.43%, maximum by 1.09%. It was too early to say exactly. Another change that Tanya ordered from above was the transition from a 12-hour workday with 2 shifts to an 8-hour day with a total of 3 shifts and ultimately, finally, a transition to 6 hours and 4 shifts. Everything was subordinated to the highest possible production efficiency. At least, this included planets with 24-hour days or work in shipyards. In other cases, the appropriate schedule was adjusted.

“Shipyard and factory workers, even managers and administrators, can work long and hard. But what good is working 12 hours a day if they are all kept on their feet by liters of coffee or substances that destroy their bodies? The huge social costs that this would entail, along with a significant drop in work efficiency at the end, would simply be disadvantageous to us in the long run. For us, that is, for the state.” In this way, Tanya justified her decision for top-down regulations with these words, at least in this particular case. “Not to mention the dissatisfaction among employees and families.”

In the end, taking into account the improvement in mood, at least among previously overworked employees, along with the need to increase employment, it would ultimately be a positive for society. True, the formal owners of factories and shipyards, acting as managers of complexes under the supervision of Pentastar, would have to take a cut from themselves, along with the net profits of the facilities, but they would still be able to function. Despite this, it is estimated that the productivity of employees in key facilities could increase by as much as 1.54%, at least initially. Later, this indicator could be higher, if there were no major complications on a Pentastar-wide scale.

Reflecting on all her moves, an hour before reaching her destination, Tanya could not resist a slight digression. Her subject was the changes she had finally submitted to, whether she wanted to or not. Once, living in a modern and affluent world, she had been a staunch supporter of far-reaching personal and economic freedom. She was even a liberal dogmatist. The cursed world, similar to the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries of her second life, had radically changed her beliefs and fully opened her eyes to the irrationality of human nature. Thanks to this, she understood the simple fact that people, or any rational beings at all, cannot be trusted to make rational decisions.

Meanwhile, this world, this galaxy, of endless interplanetary conflicts and uncountable deaths, had shown her in a more than obvious way that organic beings were too self-destructive and too willing to profit at the expense of others. It had taken the sight of millions dying, fighting wars and risking their lives to show her that supervision of society and interest groups, especially the property class, was necessary. Not direct control, for that was ineffective for anyone familiar with the history of communism, but supervision, undertaken by an enlightened despot. Supervision that would protect society from internal conflict and self-destruction. Supervision, by people like her.

But even so, Tanya still couldn't help but feel what in other people might be described as pangs of conscience. In her case, it was an internal conflict. Human nature ultimately does not change easily and its still-present fragments, beliefs, had passed on to the SELF. These glorified human freedom and responsibility for one's own decisions, from time to time spoke in the deepest recesses of her mind, especially in moments of fatigue or doubt. After all, how could it be otherwise, when the former dogmatist had betrayed the values ​​he himself professed?

After reaching the Dubrillion system and boarding the shuttle, and then boarding the flagship of the Scourge Squadron, the Salamandra - given under the command of the new fleet commander and ship captain - Tanya immediately got to work. She began by visiting this particular ship, talking to the officers and the rest of the crew. On this ship, too, she met the first fruit of her labor, and these were soldiers from the Black Armor Corps. The successor to the Stormtrooper Corps, organizationally subordinate to COMPENO, but in a combat situation subordinate to either the navy or the army, depending on the specifics of the moment and seniority of rank.

The pitch-black armors, armors that partly referenced those used by the clone troopers in the second phase of the Clone Wars, were very distinctive. They were meant to be stylish and ooze fear, aided by the crimson visor, which, when activated, could glow menacingly. They almost gave the impression, especially to representatives of more primitive civilizations, that they were not dealing with a mortal being in technologically advanced armor, but with a demon, ready to kill literally everyone.

The standard equipment of these special soldiers, to whom the name Black Reapers stuck, apart from the armor, of course, were two types of blasters: DC-18C and DC-18R. The first was basically a blaster machine pistol, for close-range combat and adapted to this, effective at a distance of up to 200 meters, reserved mainly for commanders leading their units or non-commissioned officers. The second was a blaster rifle, for combat at a distance of 400-800 standard meters. The DC-18R was therefore strictly adapted to the distance of most fights that were fought in modern struggles. An additional supplement for a single Black Reaper team was to be a heavy blaster rifle, created from a combination of both weapons, the DC-34H, and providing great firepower. All 3 weapons were manufactured by BlasTech Industries, based on earlier projects, but adapted to new technologies and progress. In the future, they were also to become the standard for all types of Pentastar armed forces. Walking through the corridors, she finally reached the more than familiar bridge, with 10 Silver Commandos with identification numbers: SC1-0067, SC1-0068, SC1-0069, SC1-0603, SC1-0667, SC1-0668, SC1-0669, SC1-0670, SC1-0671, SC-0672 at her side. In other circumstances, Tanya would have taken Heren with her, but he was busy organizing the expansion of the Silver Wing Corps. Hard work, somewhat thankless, and requiring a lot of attention. Fortunately for him, Heren took her advice and surrounded himself with a small staff of logisticians, instructors, veterans of the Corps, and aides, whose simple task was to help with the expansion through: supervision, advice, and making recommendations. It was better than overseeing the whole machine alone. A task that would be all the more difficult because the Silver Commando Corps was to be independent of the Navy, Army or even the Black Armor Corps and report directly to the Warlords.

She was greeted on the spot by officers and staff, with salutes and a stiff posture. She reciprocated, seemingly unmoved, but in fact, Tanya felt great satisfaction from this respect. All gained not only through position, promotions, father or social standing, but also her own achievements advertised so that everyone below her knew what she had done and how wonderfully it affected their lives.

Of all the officers, two stood out: an average-sized officer for a woman, but portly, with black hair, and broad-shouldered and covered with five scars on his face, with a ruddy face. The first was Fleet Commander Admiral Octavia Voss, a woman who had distinguished herself in the campaign to secure Pentastar Space and had previously commanded the Tector-class Star Destroyer 'Immortal'. The second was Octavia's energetic protégé and previously a lieutenant on the TSD ‘Immortal’, who had occasionally joined the attacking forces during boarding missions and fought in armor, once earning his signature scars. Now Captain Oceiros Fedorov.

“Warlady, welcome aboard the Salamandra!” Admiral Voss raised her voice, almost shouting, though her posture could be as rigid as the ice on Hoth or another ice planet on the coldest days.

“My Lady!” Captain Fyodorov spoke as well, but not hiding, not being able to hide, a slight nervousness.

It was almost absurd that such a tall man would be nervous about talking to a petite yet athletic blonde. The fact that the petite blonde was one of the most powerful beings in the Known Galaxy definitely changed the situation in his favor.

“Easy, Captain.” Tanya replied icily, though warm enough not to increase the stress.

Warlady, she turned to the two of them then. “So far, I am pleased with the inspection of the flagship. Everything is exactly as it should be, the ammunition and fuel supplies are above par and I really have to praise the creative use of free space.”

Captain Fyodorov calmed down a bit. “My Lady, all I did was see an opportunity and seize it. Every major ship in the fleet, that is, not a patrol cruiser, received similar recommendations and took similar steps to gather as many supplies as possible. However, this was still just taking advantage of the opportunity, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Perhaps, Captain, but you would be surprised how few people can take full advantage of the opportunities that arise. Even rarer are the people who can do it in such an unconventional way.” Tanya then turned to Octavia. “Admiral, I want to finish the inspection as soon as possible, so I suggest we set off for the remaining ships as soon as possible.”

The Scourge Squadron Commander didn't protest, instead ordering her to return to duty and heading out with the Warlord of Pentastar. First to the hangar, and from there by shuttle to the next ship in the fleet.

Flying through the space above the planet, it was impossible to miss the sight of dozens of TIE starfighters. Amidst these standard patrols or formations simply practicing maneuvers, it was impossible to miss the transports, sending the last tons of ammunition, spare parts, or gallons of fuel.

More importantly, however, were the hundreds of TIEs, because their sight was the best summary of the effort that the Pentastar industry had put into re-equipping the machines of their pilot corps. While most of the machines were slightly improved versions of TIE Fighters, reinforced with shield deflectors, improved ion engines or missile launchers, a significant part, ⅕, were already TIE Avengers.

The entire re-equipping process, not even taking into account the need for pilots to adapt to the new machines, to adapt them. Such a process required the logistics of gathering new spare parts or types of ammunition. The costs and time required were considerable, but it was necessary if the emphasis on quantity was to give way to an emphasis on protecting the experienced pilots of the corps. Ultimately, the potential and combat experience of each surviving pilot could be used not only by destroying enemies, but also by training new corps cadres.

The inspection lasted for the next few hours, although it was not exhaustive, at least not for Tanyia. On the contrary, nothing inspired such a level of satisfaction in her as watching the tight and disciplined ranks of the crews of the ships, performing their duties with the utmost conscientiousness and dedication.

In a sense, it was another of her successes. In this case, an attempt to transplant the work ethic she herself held onto onto a mass scale. To demand as much of oneself as possible and to work tirelessly to achieve one's own results.

Finally, after several hours, the inspection reached the last of the fleet's ships, a Secutor-class Star Destroyer. In this case, its name was Bastion. A unique vessel, for although it was indeed a kind of star carrier, in this case the ship was full of a different type of equipment.

In the hangar itself, where the shuttle 'Magus' had landed, it could be easily seen. Among the mostly evenly arranged in a square formation of Pentastar troopers, several Black Armor companies, it was easy to spot larger and smaller walkers. In addition to the versatile and easily modified AT-STs, there were also machines from the period of the end of the old Republic and the Clone Wars: AT-TE, AT-AP and AT-OT.

And opposite the landing transport, stood three officers, who immediately and first greeted the Warlords with a salute.

“My Lady!” The most important officer on board, quite short and with metal implants replacing his eyebrows, spoke. “The ship and the entire 2nd Army are at your disposal, ma’am!”

It was General Otto Dibelius, commander-in-chief of all army forces assigned to Scourge Squadron. Meanwhile, the ISSD Bastion was in fact the headquarters of the 2nd Army. And that formation consisted of several army corps, and also 2 Black Armor Legions. An army corps, in fact, meant a flexible and often different in proportions mix of infantry and light machines, supported significantly by those heavier, mainly heavy walkers.

Tanya then looked at the other two officers, recognizing their ranks as lieutenant colonel and captain from their insignia. The army officer was a stout, graying man, slightly overweight, and almost a goatee. Meanwhile, the naval captain was a small, clean-shaven but by all accounts, subdued man in his thirties.

"If you will allow me, My Lady." General Dibelius continued. "I would like to introduce my adjutant, Lieutenant Colonel Edwin Fromm, and the destroyer commander, Captain Langer Constantine."

Tanya returned their salute. "I hope you bring pride to the Pentastar and our citizens."

After that, the inspection of the last of the ships could begin in earnest. As before, everything was in perfect order. The supplies of combat equipment and supplies of the army units, if they landed on the planet, would be enough for at least several weeks of combat. The numbers, although impressive, would not mean much except for the possibility of intensive bombardment and strafing of the enemy. The reason for this state of affairs was simple. Land battles, on the surface of a planet, in a war on a galactic scale, were usually decided in a few days and ended, on average, in a week. Sometimes, especially on the best fortified and prepared for defense worlds, especially with great determination of the defenders, there were longer clashes or even a long stalemate. Usually, however, the mere awareness of defeating the fleet over the planet was enough to break the morale of the defenders.

Observing the soldiers, their level of cohesion, discipline, Tanya could not help but feel that either this was a very good show, prepared to please her and not arouse her suspicions, or in fact, despite budget constraints, the primacy of the fleet and the successor of the Stormtrooper Corps, the army officers were really doing everything to maintain the high quality of their armed forces.

What really caught her attention when observing the equipment, however, were the modifications carried out by the unit maintenance and repair company technicians. Modifications that were supposed to make the machines as - at least - adequate on the modern battlefield as possible.

Regardless, the inspection satisfied her. The whole thing, topped off with a modest but filling banquet aboard Salamander. All the important officers in Scourge Squadron: ship captains, group commanders, commanders of fighter squadrons, army divisions or legions. They all feasted in one room. They drank, ate and had a good time.

Although Tanya herself wasn't particularly fond of parties, it was often too crowded and too many voices to be really productive. The exceptions would be situations when it was supposed to be a big social gathering for the elite. At such banquets or parties in general, you could make alliances, useful acquaintances, or learn one or two interesting pieces of information.

Nevertheless, there was something pleasant and slightly appealing about being among painfully honest and often loud officers. Even for her, a person who, beyond any doubt, had serious shortcomings in his humanity.

Now, she recalled her past moments with the 203rd Battalion. Moments spent together after victorious operations. They were warm memories, for which there was plenty of room in her cold, bureaucratic heart. She remembered Victoria especially fondly. A woman who was on the one hand capable, but also full of life and a bit naive. Almost her friend. Almost.

Tanya would never admit it to anyone, but she began to miss her old fighting buddies. Something she hadn't experienced after her first life. After all, how can you establish such a sincere relationship with anyone in a world of universal hypocrisy and degrading luxury. Looking at it more broadly, at the history of humanity as a whole, it was impossible not to agree with the position that this is a story of degeneration. It began with the emergence of states and governments of the most capable, which inevitably regenerated into oligarchy, the rule of a narrow elite. Then the elite began to fight and compete with each other, until a tyrant emerged from among them, striving for popularity among the people. At the very end, when the tyrant has nothing left to pay his supporters and give to the ignorant masses, then people begin to rebel and everything reaches the lowest - apart from anarchy - stage of social development, namely democracy. 

Leaving the table after a few hours, Tanya walked out of the room, into the corridor, where she immediately headed towards the porthole. Her gaze fell on the stars, and her mind gave itself to contemplation. She didn't do this... She never did this, basically. She was always focused on achieving a goal. The first time, to climb as high as possible in the business hierarchy. The second time, to: survive every day in the orphanage, get into the army, survive on the battlefield and advance, until the bitter end. Finally, in this life, to advance again and to push herself up the hierarchy of the former Galactic Empire. Tanya was always focused on doing her duty as best as she could, which usually guaranteed success.

It would seem that at this point, having power over the entire galactic state, Tanya would not have much time for reflection. However, life primarily among the stars, through countless and multi-day journeys through space, even if full of work from behind a desk, is somehow inspiring to think.

Although it was easy to feel that not only you, but your entire race and civilization are insignificant in the face of the universe, its vastness, Tanya did not give in to it. She thoroughly analyzed her previous lives, the realities in which she lived or the very structure of the world in which she had to live.

It was another story of degeneration. At first, imposing enormous burdens on the few for the good of the many, degenerated into entrusting more and more responsibility to the hands of increasingly wider masses, completely unprepared to be responsible for the fate of the state. When this happened, the degeneration of the ruling class, elected by the mob, was just a matter of time, and so it happened.

Tanya found it ironic that her first world, despite being at the greatest point of prosperity for humanity in its short history, was essentially doomed. The political class, which had degenerated into the most primitive form of paidocracy possible through popular election, was now essentially incapable of responding to serious problems, worrying more about how it was perceived than about what it actually did. Such rulers were never the foundation of a healthy society, and it was only a matter of time before the people sought answers, elevating to power those who would seek to build a dictatorship as a response to the incompetence of democratic government.

In this galaxy, it was much the same as in her previous life. The Senate of the Old Republic, decades before the proclamation of the New Order, was already a corrupt and internally dead shell, unable to respond to serious crises. Tanya was convinced that if it weren't for the then Supreme Chancellor, and later Galactic Emperor Palpatine, it would be impossible to talk about a united galaxy.

"On the other hand, didn't his rule ultimately lead to division and a war as bloody as the Clone Wars?" Tanya wondered aloud, mumbling quietly and incomprehensibly to third parties. "Looking from today's perspective, wasn't that the last attempt to save the unity of the galaxy? An attempt that ended in spectacular failure?"

Tanya wanted to ponder this for a while longer, but she didn't have the opportunity.

"My Warlady?"

Tanya turned to the source of the voice, to the approaching Octavia.

“Admiral Voss, is something wrong?” she asked, looking straight into the eyes of the approaching officer.

“The banquet has become too tiring for me.” Octavia, known to some of her subordinates as the ‘Grim Admiral,’ replied. “Personally, I would much rather be planning and preparing for the inevitable battle. Or rather, a series of battles.”

“There is a time for everything, Admiral.” Warlady turned her gaze back to the stars. “Personally, I would also rather be working and preparing for the inevitable. After all, even the mind of a man whose highest value in life is an almost self-destructive devotion to his duty needs rest and replenishment.”

Tanya could almost feel Octavia’s eyebrows raise. “Please forgive my frankness, but I rather expected an exhortation to continue working. Especially in the face of such a waste of time as banquets in a situation where there is a war. A conflict, perhaps even more bloody and destructive to the galaxy than the Clone Wars or the Sith Wars before them ever were.”

“Perhaps.” Tanya had no intention of denying the devastation that the fight with the Rebel Alliance and later the Imperial Civil War had caused in the Known Galaxy. “Despite everything, the war is still going on and every day, thousands or hundreds of thousands are dying. The reasons may be different: combat operations, wounds, hunger or disease. Despite everything, it is still going on and will continue to go on as long as each side believes in the righteousness of its cause. As for work, I have no intention of working myself to death, nor do I expect it of others. On the contrary, I personally value moments of peace during which those fighting and involved in the conflict can rest and regain strength for the next challenge.”

“A strangely gracious approach, My Lady.”

Tanya almost smiled. “Perhaps, but I suspect that casual conversation is not one of the main reasons you followed me. Is it?”

Octavia approached, and out of the corner of her eye Tanya saw her staring out at the stars and the vastness of space with her.

“I am a little concerned about the operational objectives.” Squadron Commander Scourge admitted. “I have indeed received appropriate reinforcements, the effect of which is to significantly strengthen the squadron and make it a true front-line force. Nevertheless, I feel that we may be aiming too ambitiously.”

Tanya personally oversaw the reinforcement process of all the fleet formations of her galactic state. The inspection, in turn, reminded her precisely of the composition of this fleet, the names of the ships and commanders. Currently, Scourge Squadron consisted of: a single Bellator-class Star Dreadnought, 8 Imperial-II-class Star Destroyers, 4 Tector-class Star Destroyers, 10 Ton-Falk escort carriers, 6 Tiger-class cruisers, 6 Victorius-class Star Destroyers, 2 Secutor-class Star Destroyers, and 24 small anti-starfighters. Something that should be more than enough to get them to Ciutric, but still wasn't quite enough.

“That is why I have issued an order to form reserve task forces, assigned to individual squadrons of our fleet. A necessary move, thanks to which the squadron can send some of its damaged ships to reserve and receive fresh ones in exchange. Eventually use the damaged ones.” Warlady replied, and then she felt the urge to digress. “Sometimes I wonder how it is that no one has come to the same conclusions as I have?”

Octavia had an answer to that. “A thousand years of peace, without serious challenges, without tests of one’s own abilities, and entrusting the resolution of conflicts to others, the Jedi. All of this combined, made the Known Galaxy, the Old Republic and its citizens, weak. We have lost our teeth until we have become incapable of responding to serious problems. Some have said, and still say, that the Old Republic fell due to the fact that it was governed by majority decisions rather than by difficult decisions made by individuals or a small group.”

Now, this conversation was much more interesting to Tanya, because it made her think harder, perhaps even question her own beliefs.

"Isn't it?" Warlady asked her admiral.

"Not really, or at least that's not the only way I see it." Octavia shook her head. "I've read about what came before the Galactic Empire. I've read about the Old Republic, but not just the decay, but the glory days. The times when there was a real threat from the so-called Sith Lords and the early days of the High Old Republic. Back then, the political elites, the military corporations, and even the Knights were able to join forces and work together to solve crises, or to fight a common threat."

Octavia sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, times of peace and the lack of serious challenges. Times of prosperity and the perception of such a state, of the Galactic Republic itself, as something permanent and obvious. All this inevitably gave birth to weakness and complacency. The lack of challenges created the weak and clumsy, and they ruined the times of prosperity.”

Her words echoed strongly in Tanyia's head. Thus, raising the question: wouldn't peace and a monopoly on the rule of all known space make her state weak as well?

Warlady knew like no other how self-destructive the beings called intelligent, at least the organic ones, were. So could there be a way, a real way, to remedy this? To protect her legacy from corruption and self-destruction?

XXX

The corridors of the Sovereign-class Star Dreadnought, Yamato, were exactly what one would expect from a new ship, even if it was made largely from components of the old Ravager. Everything was clean, shiny and sterile, sometimes to the point of being over the top. Of course, by keeping to the typically utilitarian Imperial aesthetic, it gave everything a drab but extremely orderly and neutral feel. Perhaps to someone else it would have been a depressing aesthetic. However, Xenia was an officer of the former Galactic Empire and currently the Pentastar Alignment, which borrowed much from the former Galactic Hegemon. All this military utilitarianism, to her, as to hundreds of other officers and soldiers, was a reminder of their unity and strength. In times of crisis, it was a reminder that despite defeats and many losses, they were still strong and able to fight on. It also helped to foster a sense of unity.

Still, Xenia was more than proud of the level of cleanliness. After all, she herself had issued the appropriate orders that had the effect of doing just that.

Walking through the corridors of the dreadnought, perhaps the most powerful ship in the Known Galaxy at the moment, the Commodore and current interim commander of the Ardus Squadron couldn't help but catch herself feeling that time and history had sped up significantly. Everything to the point where what once would have taken months or years now took mere weeks or mere days.

Warlady Tanya Kaine was an undeniably quick and decisive force of mind who consistently implemented her principles. Many things were affected in the process.

The best example of this was the recently convened first meeting of the newly established Commission for the Preservation and Evolution of the New Order, within which the Public Enlightenment Service, the State Security Service from the remnants of the ISB, COMPNOR, Order and Enforcement were established, as well as the Black Armor Corps, which was intended to become the successor to the Stormtrooper Corps.

Also at this first COMPENO meeting, it was decided to create the position of First Secretary, effectively the chairman of the committee, Alec Pradeux. Although to call it an election would be an exaggeration. Xenia had seen with her own eyes how representatives of the various branches of the military, administration and corporations, unquestioningly supported Tanya's decisions.

Xenia was more than pleased with the level of control their Warlord exercised over the Pentastar. If the Emperor had been able to exercise such control over the bureaucracy, would the Rebel Alliance have ever grown to such size? She would probably never know.

Finally, she stood before the intended door and immediately after it opened, she dispassionately crossed the threshold.

The place she entered was a bar, decorated with slightly warmer colors on the walls. A place full of round or semicircular tables and plush, comfortable leather seats. Everything, on the one hand, fit aesthetically into the imperial utilitarianism, and on the other hand, gave a warm, friendly atmosphere to the entire room. A contrast that was difficult to reconcile, but which was achieved.

It was not just any bar, because it was specially designed for officers from all branches of the armed forces. A place, present on every ship larger than a corvette, that was necessary for relaxation for people risking their lives for the state or organization they fought for. Something older than star travel, which, however, was tried to be eliminated in the Empire at some point. Xenia herself had heard from several officers that right after his promotion to Grand Moff, Wilhuff Tarkin tried to implement and enforce the removal of bars from the ship. The arguments supporting this initiative were, according to Xenia herself, to a certain extent correct, because soldiers, even officers, had a tendency to overdo it, which could lead to demoralization among the crews of ships. Despite this, however, almost the entire officer corps of the time spoke out against the initiative, if only through passive resistance. The effect of the resistance was that the initiative was abandoned and none ever decided to try again. Even the durasteel will of Grand Moff Tarkin was not so unwavering when confronted with something overwhelmingly numerous.

"Commodore!" A shout rang out from the other end of the hall, from a table where a group of officers, the most important aboard the Yamato, were sitting.

Xenia had been pondering the reason why Warlady had decided on such and not another name for this star dreadnought. A ship that would soon become one of the symbols of the power of Pentastar, a new state built on the ruins of the old Galactic Empire. There was something in this name, ‘Yamato’, something special. Xenia couldn't define it, but it was almost as if the name itself whispered to her a story of long-lost glory. A strange feeling, and at the same time so characteristic that it was hard to talk about it with anyone else.

Soon, Xenia was greeted with shouts from other officers and several non-commissioned officers, invited by higher-ranking colleagues. The place was full of people on one hand, and positive energy on the other. The excitement before the first offensive against their hostile space since the pirate campaign was all too palpable. Many of them were veterans who still remember the times before Endor and followed Grand Moff Ardus Kaine during the collapse of the empire. It was a chance to finally fight a battle, even if they were fighting against the old ones or the Republicans, more popularly still called the Rebels.

However, in all this, in all this tension, desire to fight and expectation, there was something more. Xenia saw it with her own eyes, observed it in others and could say one thing for sure: the propaganda New Beginning, the new face of the old New Order, was working. The campaign led by First Secretary Pradux, had hit very fertile ground. The Imperial ideal that had been dying for the last few years. The process of decay, the symbolic culmination of which was Operation Shadow Hand. Xenia herself experienced a feeling of emptiness when a certain era came to an end. There was nothing left to save, all that was left was to build something new from the remains, or at least try to do so.

Xenia moved to the table, responding to the greetings of the officers she knew more or less. There were many: medical officers, officers supervising the turbo laser batteries, officers from the pilot corps, several Silver Wings. It was a reminder that every ship, especially one as large as the Yamato, required an entire machine and human system that could make everything run like clockwork.

Sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs, she immediately felt much more comfortable. She closed her eyes for a moment, then turned her gaze to the people present.

“Nice to know…” Her aide began, a portly man in his late thirties with dark skin and distinctly rosy cheeks sitting in the opposite chair. “That you found time to relax a bit.”

They were in a friendly atmosphere here and her aide, Commander Garrick Lorenz, like everyone else, was more than willing to keep it that way. It gave a sense of respite and the possibility of establishing almost friendly relations.

“It’s a necessity to keep from going crazy.” Xenia swung her legs over hers and her words, elicited hearty laughter from the 6 other people sitting at the same table, with whom she had the most contact.

She wanted to turn to the bartender, but another of the officers sitting here prevented her from doing so. “Jica! For our commodore, the same as always, a glass of good wine!”

He was short and not very short, slim and in every respect an average man in his early 40s, with clear signs of premature balding. General Cynna Lotharius, commander of all the fighter wings deployed on board the star dreadnought. As he himself said: “I am the man who has to inflate and properly distribute the latex figures from which the air has gone out.”

Xenia smiled slightly, her co-workers and good colleagues for conversation after work, knew her alcohol tastes too well. She looked at the others then.

Captain Francis Cario, formally the commander of the ship, but in fact acting as a supervisor and passing on orders to Xenia. If Cynna was average, Francis would have no problems, not even the slightest, to blend in with the surroundings and the crowd.

Lieutenant Basil Abelfortus, quartermaster, responsible - as is not difficult to guess - for the state and replenishment of fuel, ammunition, food and spare parts. In addition to being great at his job, he was also fat and covered in fat, not because of gluttony or lack of exercise, but because of birth defects. Defects that even extreme attempts at weight loss could not overcome. The exception was direct fat extraction surgery, but it did little to help, because the man quickly gained weight.

Lieutenant Sheena Britt, a young and energetic woman with pale skin and beautiful facial features, responsible for communications. Always ready to carry out an order.

General Ebert Mochilas, commander of all ground forces, who also commanded the Silver Commandos and Legionnaires - as the members of the successor to the Stormtrooper Corps came to be called - from the Black Armor Corps.

The last one was Lieutenant Willem Hortus. He was the chief artillery officer, equally responsible for turbolasers, point defense, ion cannons and torpedo launchers.

The seven officers, plus Xenia herself, met very often to discuss various matters. Recently, however, due to preparations and the need to maintain a smooth and intact sleep cycle, this had not been possible. Now, however, when the logistical preparations had been completed and the soldiers had been given a break from training and integration within the new squadron, everything looked a bit different.

Soon, the wine was served, and Xenia took a short and small sip. Closing her eyes, she tried to savor the sweet taste, intensified by the aroma reaching her nostrils. It was as if the entire unbearable and superhuman burden of responsibility for the preparations, for the countless human lives in the squadron, had been suddenly lifted for the time being.

Opening her eyes, Xenia noticed her interlocutors and good companions of many conversations, who were staring at her with undisguised interest. They shared much work, many hardships. Fate would have it that their careers had coincided, at the moment of birth in the pains of the Pentastar Alignment. However, as the course of events had shown: what was created in pain, durasteel and blood, was always many times more durable than what was created by majority resolutions.

"Xenia..." Sheena spoke first, looking at her with a smile and holding a glass of her favorite Corellian Whiskey to her lips. "What are you thinking?"

She smiled back at her friend. “About many things…”

They responded with laughter, especially the ever-warm Francis, who during private situations loved to take a break from the rigid and extremely formal behavior that was allowed within the framework of military discipline.

Her gaze moved quickly to the others, each of whom held a prepared glass or a glass, full of the alcohol they loved.

“About many things, related to our past and the impermanence of what was created by majority resolutions, and not marked out with the help of durasteel and lasers.” Xenia continued, realizing that her words were dangerously close to the border, after which criticism of the old Galactic Empire followed.

Something that was taboo, especially among officers, but not so impossible to discuss in this particular group.

“However, my mind, like everyone’s, was occupied with the future and the inevitable campaign against both the still-existing warlords in the Galactic North and the worlds of the New Republic, defended by the fleets of that state entity.”

“That’s probably all of us, and it looks like we’ll be talking about it even now, when we’re supposed to be taking a break from all this.” Cynna took a sip of his favorite black ginger ale from Kuat, which had been incredibly popular for centuries among those working in the shipyards, regardless of their position in the labor chain. “Last night I had a dream that we had suffered such heavy losses in our starfighters during the fight that I had to personally go to my Avenger. In the end, however, I was shot down and drifted through space, among the debris, until my oxygen finally ran out, and I began to suffocate, until I finally woke up.”

The others winced. So-called Space Traumatic Stress Disorder was a mental condition that was quite common among those who, as a result of shooting down their ship, had to drift through space and were close to death. Among TIE pilots, the tendency to find themselves in such a situation, let alone to develop the condition, was alarmingly high. So high, in fact, that a few months before the Battle of Endor, it was necessary to establish special positions of psychotherapists for those who could help the victims. Warlord Kaine herself, with the support and strong support of almost the entire pilot corps, had not only kept the initiative going, but had also led to an increase in staffing within the other corps and branches of the armed forces in general. It was an initiative that would require a large number of well-trained psychologists, but on a monthly basis, it would not be as costly as one might think.

“Truth be told, I am composed and overwhelmed by the fact that our future will be decided by war.” Xenia continued, taking a quick sip and subtly licking her lips, but subconsciously trying to hide her nervousness. “I am overwhelmed by the responsibility for the hundreds of thousands, even millions, of beings who will die under my command, or because of my orders.”

Ebert then decided to interject. “Probably, as would any of us who take full responsibility for our part in the process.”

Xenia nodded. “Yes, indeed. It saddens me how many high-ranking officers of the old empire did not share this. A responsibility to the people, from which no absolute can free us. At the same time, I am glad that securing our future, in this era of change, will be achieved through conquest, lasers, space battles and faits accomplis. As the example of the Old Republic after the Sith wars showed: only death, sacrifice, hardship, blood, tears and the burden of losses for the fighters, is a guarantee of forming a lasting and strong body. A body that will last a thousand years and ensure prosperity for countless generations that will come after us.” 

Her words clearly improved the mood and spirit of everyone, especially Cynna, who smiled at the prospect that his sacrifice and the sacrifices of many others would bring peace to the next generations. Everyone present here might have differed, more or less, but each of them desired a lasting peace to a similar extent, which would finally bring prosperity to countless beings. All after years of wars, fighting with rebels, terrorism and state terror that the Galactic Empire used. All after and as a result of the enormous blood tribute that the inhabitants of the Known Galaxy had to pay since the Clone Wars.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, a toast!” Xenia raised her glass, wanting to end this topic. “Our first offensive, as citizens of the Pentastar Alignment, has not yet come, and yet we already feel the weight of the coming battles, which is why we should enjoy these short but important moments! A toast, to the future, to our victory and the success of the next generations!”

“Cheers!” Not only her friends, but also a large part of the rest of the people who were in the bar, responded.

Just one sip was enough for everyone present, even those with stronger alcohol, to empty the contents of their glasses or glasses. From that moment on, the conversations turned to more trivial topics, such as family or art. Who said that a good soldier cannot also be interested in architecture, painting or literature?

For the first time in a long time, Xenia felt relaxed. However, what she felt most during this visit to the bar was the exceptionally good mood of her adjutant. Garrick, a man of focused, meticulous, and analytical nature during his time on duty, was more than willing. Eventually, his sorrows and worries, like those of the rest and Xenia herself, went to hell along with the glasses and glasses consumed.

XXX

“The Defense Council is beginning its deliberations.” Mon Mothma announced to everyone gathered in the room, calling them to order and ending the hubbub of conversation. “Take your seats, ladies and gentlemen.”

General Wedge Antilles, as well as Minister of State Leia Organa-Solo, were among the first, right after the Head of State, to take their assigned seats at the large, round, white table, the center of which was engraved with a blue phoenix, the symbol of their galactic state. A state entity that could be said beyond a shadow of a doubt to control the vast majority of the Known Galaxy.

“Let us begin, by the required protocol of confirming the presence of all members of the Defense Council.” The Head of State continued, throwing a glance at everyone. “Minister of State Leia Organa-Solo.”

“Present.” The woman, whose dark brown hair was cut into an elegant braid and she herself, was wearing a simple but elegant white dress, replied. Wedge had always had a good, and high, opinion of her. As a soldier, even if now a high-ranking one, he had no intention of getting involved in politics. He preferred fighting the enemies of the New Republic, taking action, rather than wasting time on power struggles. That said, Wedge was glad that there were many people willing to do much and very determined to ensure that what the former Alliance to Restore the Republic and its members fought for would survive.

"Supreme Commander Admiral Gial Ackbar."

"Current," Mon Calamari replied, in the tone characteristic of his race.

Wedge respected this man in every way. Perhaps more than anyone else among those gathered here. The reason was simple: Admiral Ackbar had basically been the main architect of the victory over the Galactic Empire, when that state entity was still more or less a whole. It was Ackbar who had been the commander-in-chief during the turning point of the Galactic Civil War, the Battle of Endor. Those two accomplishments had given the admiral almost unquestionable political capital and credibility in matters of military power, one that would only be undermined during the so-called Thrawn Campaign. There was no doubt that the New Republic owed him a debt of gratitude.

"General Wedge Antilles." When his name was mentioned, Wedge stiffly stood up and quickly announced his presence to the audience before he sat down again.

At first, being invited to this session of the New Republic Defense Council had come as a complete surprise to him. He was a pilot first, one of the best, but also a commander who led as many of his men directly under his command as possible. He tried to be on the front lines and share the hardships of combat or campaigning in general with others, many of whom might never return home. This fact was well-known and widespread among the Pilot Corps, as well as other branches of the military and among civilians. Ultimately, many, many, were interested in the command style of their war hero.

All of this led to the question: Why exactly was he invited here? And personally by the Head of State's office? Was it some kind of distinction? Unlikely, because if that was the case, they had been asked long ago, more than once or twice. Would the members like to ask him for recommendations on the development of the Corps? The Galactic Civil War had provided a wealth of experience and opportunities to test the adopted assumptions. The results during the battles with what remained of the Galactic Empire spoke for themselves. So why summon him here? Especially since he was still technically on leave for another standard week.

Head of State Mon Mothma summoned more members of the Defense Council, as protocol required. Among them were two more civilian representatives, who were supposed to oversee the military: Councilor Garm Bel Iblis and - to Wedge's great disappointment - Councilor Borsk Fey'lya. The former was undoubtedly a true Corelian, flesh and blood, and stubborn to the point of rationality, for better or for worse. Wedge was similar, especially since they both fought in the war with the Galactic Empire. They fought and lost many friends, not only as a direct result of the war. Meanwhile, Councilor Fey'lya... Wedge and he, despite never having had the opportunity to have a longer and more engaging conversation on the subject, did not like each other. Wedge had not had a good opinion of him even before the campaign of the last of the 12 Grand Admirals of the Galactic Empire, and the campaign itself only deepened his dislike. The Councilor, who despite his lack of competence managed to wrest the functions of Supreme Commander of the New Republic Self-Defense Forces for himself at some point, turned out not to care about the military as a whole. On the other hand, he was a politician, in a culture completely devoted to the race whose central point, especially for the upper classes, was the fight for power by any means.

There were also 2 admirals among the council, one responsible for logistics and the other for fleet inspections. In addition, two generals, one of whom was the head of the army and the other the head of the pilot corps and effectively Wedge's direct superior. This was General Jan Dodonna, who also served as Executive Advisor. Primarily, the latter meant that the reintegration of the feral Humans of Coruscant into society, though not just the Humans themselves, was necessary. This included dealing with all the feral inhabitants of the lower levels of the planet.

"Now that everyone is here, I declare this meeting of the New Republic Defense Council underway immediately." Mon Mothma, once a red-haired and strong woman who had turned gray and lost some of her former natural charisma over the past year, announced. "Today's two topics of discussion: rebuilding our forces after Emperor Palpatine's return, and dealing with the Imperial Warlords."

She then turned to the only Mon Calamari present. “Admiral Gial Ackbar will now speak and provide a more comprehensive account of this matter.”

The summoned Admiral rose calmly, rising to his feet with slight difficulty, caused by the effects of his shuttle's emergency landing the previous day, due to a collision with a military transport.

"As has been said, we will begin with the issue of rebuilding our armed forces, primarily the fleet and the pilot corps." He began, getting straight to the point. "I will say it bluntly, the unexpected return of the Emperor, along with the fleet of star dreadnoughts and countless other units, plus super weapons, has meant the loss of over 40% of all our ships and a huge loss of personnel. First and foremost, our navy personnel. Not to mention the dismantling of the entire military corps. Given the state of our shipyards, production capabilities, and the current pace of training, it is not expected that the reconstruction of our forces to pre-Operation Shadow Hand levels will be completed until the end of next year."

The assembled council members exchanged nervous glances. Such a margin of time meant that their ability to influence the enemy would be very limited in the near future. Each of them was fully aware of this.

Wedge was about to speak up, but Councilor Fey'lya, whose fur, however, gave no sign of it, got ahead of him. "Supreme Commander, with all due respect, but is there no way to speed up this process? I would like to draw your attention to the enormity of the destruction, especially in the Core Worlds, the repair of which should begin as soon as possible."

"That will not be possible unless we are to replace the enormous losses with poorly trained literates, or buy all available ships, smaller or larger, from previous galactic eras and conflicts." Came the reply from the respected admiral, who was clearly initially surprised by the Bothans' unaggressive arguments.

Basically, Councilor Borsk Fey'lya had only miraculously - as Wedge himself personally believed - been able to save his political career. How could it be otherwise, after the complete embarrassment during the fight with Grand Admiral Thrawn? On the other hand, why wouldn't an experienced politician, who had already almost reached the top, be able to recover from a major embarrassment. Especially since his power among the Bothan people had not been weakened or destroyed.

The exchange of words, between the two who clearly hated each other, was the beginning of a long discussion, during which there was an intensive debate on the potential acceleration of courses for officers, technicians and soldiers. However, the result was the conclusion that the courses had already been significantly accelerated and reduced to the most unnecessary topics. Further shortening threatened a decline in the quality of personnel and the necessity of training in the heat of battle, in the worst case, to make up for the shortcomings through high morale, which would have led to high losses. An even worse version of solving the problem assumed sending instructors and entire training units to the front lines or defending planets.

There was little more that could be done in terms of production or acquisition of new ships. It was necessary to either arm oneself with patience and offer the available resources as effectively as possible, or risk a decline in the quality of the fleet and pilot corps, as well as a decline in the cohesion of these branches of the Self-Defense Forces in terms of spare parts and equipment.

No matter how you look at it, there was nothing that could be done to not significantly compromise the security of the New Republic and the Self-Defense Forces' potential to recreate and expand their combat capabilities.

Throughout this time, Wedge did everything in his power not to fall asleep from boredom and fatigue. This meeting, even more than the hours of battles and the prospect of his life being in danger, was draining him mentally.

"Enough of this, ladies and gentlemen." General Jan Dodonna interrupted the discussion, his old but still authoritative voice. "There can only be one conclusion, and you have already reached it: either we operate with what we have, to the best of our abilities, or the beginning of the end, or we grit our teeth and use what we already have. I am not thrilled by this prospect, but the alternatives are even worse and potentially disastrous in their consequences. That is why I propose that we end these matters and focus on the problem of the Warlords."

"I support!"

"I agree."

These words were spoken at almost the same time by two councilors: Councilor Iblis and Councilor Fey'lya. Both of them glanced at each other briefly before looking away, and the latter's fur waved slightly, as if in mild irritation. Why exactly? Wedge didn't feel like thinking about it.

"What is he planning?" The man muttered, wondering about the Bothan's behavior, who had so far only presented relatively rational arguments without stretching or overinterpreting.

"Have you said anything, General Antilles?" Mon Mothma asked him, who must have clearly noticed the movement of his lips. "You haven't said anything so far, and yet you were asked to a council meeting to express your opinion."

Wedge sighed inwardly in irritation before answering. "I am a front-line soldier, not a discussion or staff officer, and I believe my words will not contribute much here."

"Still, we wish to hear what you have to say." General Jan Dodonna announced with a smile that, while hidden under his chin and slight, was present and almost benevolent. “Always, it’s an additional perspective and point of view.” Wedge glanced at him, then gave a quick glance and a deep sigh before he began to speak. “I think we should be more proactive and not go on the defensive just because of losses. During the Thrawn Campaign, we weren’t proactive enough and we paid the price for it.”

His words immediately caused a small stir, and clearly only Admiral Ackbar, although he was inclined to agree with this argument. At least, that was the impression.

"General, as you probably know, we do not have sufficient forces to conduct an offensive, and to commit additional reserves would mean exposing our worlds to grave danger." Councilor Fey'lya spoke, voicing the opinion of the vast majority present, but he had no opportunity to add anything more to it.

"And yet it was proposed, and I see the merit in it." Admiral Ackbar said firmly. "I personally believe that the best thing we can do is to do everything we can to prevent the Warlords from taking a breather, regrouping, and attacking again, as they did when we lost Coruscant."

"If we are to do this, however, we should ask ourselves one question: where do we begin?" General Dodonna asked. "Should I start by eliminating the weakest Warlords, mainly those in the Deep Core? Or should I focus on the strongest, and here I see two potential targets, either the Galactic Empire under the self-proclaimed Emperor Jax, or the Pentastar Alignment. There is also the Galactic Union of Teradoc, but they are divided and not as strong as one might think."

The New Republic, from first taking Coruscant, defeating Isard in the Bacta War and the war with Warlord Zsinj, was constantly threatened by the scattered, but still numerous and not so badly organized forces of the Warlords. This threat and the vulnerability of the New Republic to attack, due to its vast territory, was fully revealed during the Thrawn Campaign and later during the attack of the reborn Emperor Palpatine. Now, the fear among civilians, military of all ranks and the ruling class was more than palpable.

“To my knowledge, we have never attacked the Deep Core, primarily due to the instability of the Region.” Councilor Fey’yla noted, glancing at the military before asking the crucial question. “How exactly would we defeat the Warlords there? Especially when we have more favorable targets at the same time.”

“What do you mean, Councilor?” The question came from Mon Mothma, who was clearly doing her best to not seem skeptical or suspicious of Wedge.

“My informants have informed me that the Teradoc Union forces, of all the Warlords, have been most depleted by the fighting, especially those outside the Deep Core, who are in a similar situation to us, but are many times weaker.” A keen observer like Wedge could easily see something like a smile on the Bothan’s face. "Furthermore, the so-called Crimson Empire, led by the so-called Emperor Jax, is not the strongest of the factions of the second Galactic Empire. Their forces, while theoretically capable of repelling our invasion, could still successfully destabilize their Ruling Council."

"Is it really that bad?" Councilor Garm Bel Iblis asked. "It sounds too good to be true."

"Perhaps." The Bothan Councilor replied. "After all, the truth is often more shocking than fiction or lies. I contend that from a political perspective, an attack on the Crimson Empire, or attempts to absorb it, may make much more sense."

To the surprise of everyone gathered, especially Wedge, it was Admiral Ackbar who sided with his once greatest adversary, effectively depriving him of his Supreme Commander's dominion for a short while. "Among the Warlords, either the Teradoc Union or the Crimson Empire. The Deep Core is too unstable a region and entering it would mean massive losses. As for the Pentastar, it's a space too far away and too powerful. Effective supply could be a problem."

"What exactly do you mean, Admiral?" Garam asked, seeming a bit surprised. "The Imperial Remnant has been greatly weakened and the Pentastar forces must have suffered losses as well. Especially since Operation Shadow Hand."

Wedge, who had done everything he could to learn as much as he could in the time since Grand Moff Kaine's grand funeral and his daughter's rise to power. His beloved had been quite helpful in this regard. He had a wealth of knowledge in this area, which he was not about to fail to use. "The Pentastar Alignment has never been much involved in the war, with only Grand Moff Kaine involved in the campaign of the reborn Emperor. Despite this, their forces, their fleets, are currently the strongest within the Imperial Remnant."

"I have some information on the subject as well, but it is not very optimistic, to say the least." Councilor Fey'lya said the movement of his fur clearly indicated a certain reluctance to broach the subject, as well as a slight nervousness. "Although, as we all know, Warlord Tanya Kaine has spectacularly announced her break with the Galactic Empire, the shipyards and steel mills are still operating at full speed. Entire formations are being mobilized and are conducting exercises. As for the goal, I can only guess."

A moment later, a holomap of the entire Known Galaxy was activated, presenting the territory of the Pentastar Alignment in a light blue color. It was a large space, even from the point of view of Coruscant and the New Republic. Despite everything, everyone present who had knowledge of the strategy and functioning of the state was perfectly aware that such a space was no match for the New Republic in terms of industry or mobilization capabilities.

"Do we really have to worry about the Pentastar Alignment?" Wedge asked at one point, encouraged to join the discussion. "Their territory is smaller. The size of their fleet or army is almost certainly smaller than ours."

"It's just a pretense, General Antilles." Councilor Fey’lya interjected. “In fact, as I have been informed, the Pentastar Alignment’s economy is growing and very strong. Additionally, Warlord Tanya Kaine has done everything she could to build up the industrial power of her galactic state over the years.”

This clearly worried many of those present. They were aware of how much the economy affected, or even determined, the battlefield.

“Councilor, with all due respect…” General Jan Dodonna replied, looking at him as calmly as he did naturally. “Economy, revenues to the budget, and industrial strength are not everything. Motivation and morale are equally important. Frankly, I doubt that after such an unceremonious break with the Remnant of the Empire, many would want to fight for this new galactic state. If only economic indicators were decisive, the outcome of our fight against the Galactic Empire could be calculated on a single calculator, and with full certainty.”

The words made sense, but were quickly torpedoed from the most unexpected side.

"I personally have serious doubts that the Pentastar forces will have low morale." Minister of State Organa-Solo said, folding her hands in front of herself. "The Pentastar Alignment was established almost a decade ago, almost after the Battle of Endor. More than enough time for civilians, soldiers, or even elites, to start seeing themselves as something else. Even if they were considered part of the Imperial Remnant. If the state apparatus were able to mobilize soldiers, and it must be assumed that it would, then we would have a very difficult opponent."

Wedge realized at that moment, his own misjudgment of the situation, fully. On the other hand, there was another issue that he had drawn attention to.

"If the Pentastar Navy is mobilizing, what exactly will be their goal?" He asked, looking around the room as subtle as a sincere and professional front-line soldier could manage. Almost everyone present seemed to be thinking about it. Almost everyone, for Admiral Ackbar already had a few words ready on the subject. “There are several potential targets Warlady Kaine’s fleet could potentially take.” Mon Calamari began, typing commands into the console in front of his chair as he did so, the effect of which was affecting the holomap’s display in a way that matched his words. “First and foremost, the possible forces and territory of the Crimson Empire.”

“Sounds reasonable.” The Bothan Councilor said, lightly stroking his chin. “Backing up that declaration of independence with action.”

Wedge wondered how on earth someone with a Bothan mentality had been able to be so cooperative not so long ago. The Rebel veteran had to ask himself a similar question: “What is that slippery Bantha up to?”

“But unlikely, Councilor.” Ackbar replied. “The Imperial forces in that part of the galaxy are still numerous and compact. While politically it may make sense, such a move would require a great tribute in blood. Considerable losses, which would expose the Pentastar to attack, the need to replace losses, and that could be exploited. One must assume that Warlord Kaine and her advisors are no doubt well aware of that.”

His words prompted a brief moment of reflection from everyone, most of which mirrored the Supreme Commander’s next words.

“In my opinion, and that of many of my staff, the goal of the mobilization is to occupy planets and sectors located further to the galactic west of Pentastar space.” His thesis was quickly supported by factual arguments. “The reason is simple, it is an easier and more rewarding goal. Both our few planets and those parts controlled by the Remnant of the Empire. There is only one significant exception, at least for us and from our perspective…” The holomap was almost immediately zoomed in, pointing to one specific planet, additionally marked in red.

“Ciutric.” Ackbar said. “The former headquarters of the self-proclaimed Prince-Admiral Delak Krennel. A world well developed economically and industrially, which is rich and has been additionally fortified by us. Although there have only been 2 attempts to reclaim this world, all of them were poorly prepared and there were insufficient forces. Nevertheless, if Warlord Kaine sends his squadrons there, the planet could quite easily fall victim to a siege.” 

"So it would be necessary to reinforce the fleet defending the planet." Leia concluded, to which the Admiral responded with a nod, which did not exhaust the issue of the threat posed by the Pentastar Alignment.

"But what specific actions will we take in response?" Councilor Fey'lya asked, looking either at General Jan Dodonna or Admiral Ackbar. "Simply reinforcing the fleet of a single point on the galactic map may not be enough. Especially when our forces are opposed by, and I say this without exaggeration, the first industrial power of the former Galactic Empire."

The answer came very quickly, and the answer left Wedge stunned.

"True, Councilor Fey'lya." Admiral Ackbar replied. “We will be sending more than just a simple reinforcement. We are just finishing putting together Rascal Squadron, a new formation. Its commander will be General Wedge Antilles, who is here, and Rogue Squadron will be sent with him. Considering the planetary defenses, that should be more than enough.”

In the end, for the reasons mentioned earlier, the decision was made to take limited action against the Pentastar Alignment.