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“Sir!”, the operator’s voice waked him up, his voice was piercing through his translucent helmet in an odd way. The kid probably forgot to run his gear through maintenance, ignoring that, Gideon opened his eyes, safely hidden by his white cap as he sat on the command chair while roaming the stars, in his opinion, there was no better place to take a nap when everything was so quiet in his time performing the duty. Once he was a proud member of the imperial navy in the service of the Imperial Remnants, the ruthless First Order until its fall, before haughtily abandoning the service for joining the rising glory of the New Imperial Order, for a while he felt accomplished of his deeds, honoring the majestic name of the Pellaeon family.
That was done the moment he met Lunafreya Solidor. Before being personally assigned to her service by the Lord-Executor Vaulkhar ‘the Bastard’ Zambrano, son of former Sith Emperor Carnifex. He had heard stories about her, tales of cruelty, rumors of her beauty, bloodlust, gluttony, and absolute arrogance, they said she wasn’t a Sith, nor was she a Jedi, some sort of sorcerer of dreadful power, an elder witch of horrendous aura, they called her the Bloody Duchess of JanFathal, although nowadays she had a different monicker but still enjoyed being called as the Bloody Duchess. The moment he laid his eyes upon her Gideon was struck dead by her astounding grace, there was elegance in the way she moved, she exhaled beauty… it felt as if it was love. But it wasn’t, she was brilliant and ruthless, a cunning strategist that listened to his every suggestion on what was to be done in the depths of space.
She made him feel as if he were the most important man in the room and kept doing that quite often. However, his crossroad was faced in Bastion when Operation Kyber Dark was ordered by Irveric Tavlar, ordering the death of all the former Sith-aligned troops through the stars, those recently captured, those they faced in the field, and those that already found service within their ranks. It was a bloodbath where many of his friends, allies, and acquaintances were betrayed plus systematically mercilessly killed, and despite being made a Warlord, Lunafreya would have survived this event as her name failed to be mentioned in the target’s list. Yet, she refused on following Tavlar’s commands, the very thought of betraying those under her service seemed to be... unbearable. Pellaeon found that to be the most honorable thing a commander could do, never abandon those under her command, no matter the circumstances. No matter the circumstances.
“What is it?”, his voice was dragged by a lazy tone of voice. The operator dared not flinch or show any bother on that fact, simply replying to him.
“Our ship caught a strange signal near section 39B.”, Pellaeon turned his head to face the holographic map on the screen as an orange beeping shade started to appear.
“A single vessel?”, he asked out loud, noticing that the operator was still waiting for his orders on how to deal with this matter. Was that a Sith ship? No. The Sith had all fled to Dromund Kaas, he knew that all too well as Lunafreya was on her enterprise on conquering the rogue systems next to her crowning jewel of Carnadine. Perhaps an Eternalist vessel? No. Nearly all of their fleet was now on their system, Rufus did that after the Korriban Invasion. This was most likely a Jedi Ship, those Silver Concord bastards were always ready for a good squabble. “Maintain our cloaking active. Move us closer to the vessel, deploy the Valkiria Squadron to drag it within our tractor beam’s range, I want that ship captured within the hour!”
The frigate came to a stuttering halt as it dropped from hyperspace travel. The temporary commander stood silent as he observed the surroundings they found themselves in. There had been mention of a number of systems being damaged or entirely knocked out upon his return to the vessel following the invasion of Silver space. But it seemed that strange lightning strike by the yurbian vessel had done a good deal of damage to the hyperdrive systems.
His eyes wandered over to the appropriate officer, who seemed just as lost as the rest of them.
"We were in transit for-oh. We've...sir. We've deviated from the plotted course it seems." The man seemed to sink into their chair, unsure of how the commander would react. The space filled with a heavy sigh as Errix lifted his gaze from the man and back out to the stars before them.
"How bad?" He finally asked, seeing nothing tremendously familiar in the stars out of the viewport.
"I-we aren't even in the right planetary system." Wide eyes snapped over to the officer. Concern before anger as Errix pondered briefly the appropriate move to make.
"We can't risk another jump without making sure the systems are at the least able to properly plot a jump course. How about our sensors?"
"Fried mostly sir. Internal scans are working." One reported. "We have limited scans to forward of the ship." Came another report. "And communications are down also." A number of reports came in from all around him, Errix's hand moving to his forehead at the damage inflicted. From one attack no less. It was distressing not knowing exactly where, or how far they had to travel. But jumping with the system so unstable as it was seemed fool hearty.
"Kriff. Move engineering teams accordingly. Anything that doesn't require intricate repair can take from the gunners aboard and overseen by the engineers in that department. I'll assist here with communications and sensors as best I am able." He spoke, giving a defeated sound upon taking the cape off his shoulders and rolling up the sleeves of his attire.
"Sir, we can-"
"I worked in engineering for a while, I can help. Let's get to it." He offered, shrugging. The attempts to get Errix to end his career in the Kainate had been numerous, ranging from quiet attacks on his character to forcing him into unsavory work aboard different frigates from the galley to engineering and everything between.
With a healthy repertoire of knowledge about the systems aboard a vessel, he was more an asset than most thought he could be.
"Let's start with communications. You two pair up and work on sensors. Keep the Perilous at low cruise speed. Keep batteries at the ready but skeleton crews only." He directed before working with the officer to diagnose the situation before them.
The ship moved at a deathly slow pace, no active or passive scans coming from it. The starfighter hold seemed dark at its midsection, the blast door closed with the failing systems just forward of that section. Pilots, gunners, and even security were assisting engineers as best they were able to get the ship even partly operational once more.