Private Orion to Javelin | Secret Communications between TSE Defector Commodore Curtis Rheardon and NIO Commodore Gallius Orcana

[Gallius Orcana]

NIV PRIDE OF THE EMPEROR

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THIRD FLEET

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The Pride of the Emperor was repairing. The substantial damages she had sustained during the battle over Bastion had left scars only time - and a trusty imperial repair dock - could alleviate. While the much needed repairs were considerably delaying the Pride of the Emperor from returning on battlefields, Gallius took the opportunity to sit down and analyse the reports he received. In particular, he was awaiting fresh intel from a Sith turncoat named Commodore Curtis Rheardon .

A disgruntled navy officer, that Javelin was a magnificent opportunity at that stage of the war. His close connection to Moff Drybis Lyken meant he could spy on him quite easily, and his rank gave him authority on some capital ships, something no Imperial could disdain. So Gallius had improvised himself intel gatherer, happy and proud even that a fragile structure such as the Lodge had survived the first battle over Bastion. He had thought after that semi-successful uprising the surviving members would have been hunted down and executed. But this had not been the case, and the Sith had allowed a nefarious cancer to grow in their own navy, again.

The captain was supervising the repairs, and finally ordered to repaint the ship in a standard grey hue, only fancying a giant imperial sigil on the belly of the Cuirassier, and allowing the recently repainted battle-scars to be highlighted in black, exhibiting the brawls the cruiser had been through. And as he was about to leave the deck, authorising himself a short nap, his comlink blinked repeatedly. This was it. Javelin was coming in, at last.

Locked in his personnal chamber, Gallius opened the transmission coming from his double agent, and read the informations given, storing themselves and classifying them in order of priority. Some secret hyperlanes... nothing he could use personnally. He prepared a holotransmission to Caarlyle Rausgeber, his high ranking commanding officer. While writing the usual introduction and report, he went through the rest of Javelin's document. He added the supply base coordinates to the message he was addressing to the Grand Admiral, and took a moment when he read of the old salvageable battlecruisers. Could he keep it secret, then try and steal them alone ? Maybe it was too risky, but he could ask for a small fleet he'd lead to that reserve of battleships. It was easy prey, seemingly, and it would bolster the battered imperial forces. He decided he could not risk his ship and the success of such a mission for mere glory, and wrote down his reinforcement request. Finally, he added a note on Lyken's secret project, not understanding well what it was meant to be. It was the high ranking officers' job, Gallius thought, to understand it, not his.

He sent the message with extreme precautions, making sure the encryption was of highest level, then sent it, and closed all the opened files. He would not send an answer to Javelin, as the lodge members convened, wanting not to draw attention to his agent with unusual communication traffic. No answer would mean two things : the recipient had been captured or killed, or he appreciated the report, and asked for more intel. Either way, it was Javelin's job to determine his next course of action.

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[Commodore Curtis Rheardon]

HMIS "The Basilisk" (Harrower-class Cruiser)
3 hours after the Battle of Ziost

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The Basilisk had fled from Ziost. The Galactic Alliance had fooled his superiors again. They attacked Ziost when none expected it.

A stinkin Mon Calamari nearly ended him, before another Sith-Imperial ship arrived to take his enemy's attention. As Alliance fighters tore into his hull and his own starfighters squadrons were being torn to bits, before his complete defeat, he was able to make a last minute jump to hyperspace. The wounded vessel limped its way through the hyperspace to Mirial. However, the hyperdrive was not fully programmed for the jump, so the ship took even more damage on its escape. When the cruiser emerged, the rear of its hull was scorched and smoking. The stabilizers were low, shields were gone, and three of his four fighter squadrons had been basically obliterated. He had lost a quarter of his crew and nearly half the engineering deck had been blasted into the depths of space. With most of the ship airlocked to prevent complete collapse, the Basilisk was not much more than a floating husk in space.


With such death and wastefulness, only to be done at the whim of Sith and madmen. If he was questioning his decision to defect before, there was no question now. No hesitation. He had truly had enough, and this time he meant it. However, he couldn't leave instantly now and defect, especially with his ship in its current state.

As Curtis walked from the bridge after ordering his crew to salvage whatever they could and make internal repairs, he made his way to the conference room where his subordinate officers awaited him.

There they listed all of the damages the Basilisk had taken. The men lost. The supplies and ammunition lost.

He was in a daze, extremely exhausted himself.

"So that wraps up the report Commodore", spoke his second, Commander Dranva.

They looked over to see the Commodore sitting with his hand under chin, looking distraught, staring at the table.

"Sir?", one of the officers asked.

It woke him up slightly as his eyelashes flapped quickly several times as he turned his gaze to the officer.

"Yes......". He realized his own officers could clearly see his stress and frustration.

"I am sorry gentleman, just the last several hours, have been........taxing to say the least"

"Yes sir, we can all relate to you on that matter".

"Is that all, Commander".

"Yes it is sir".

"Very good, continue with all internal repairs, update me regularly about our progress". "And lastly, get a transmission out to anyone in the fleet". "Tell them were alive". He knew after he said that, what he really thought; it wasn't like they would send help. But he didn't want his men to get the impression that he hated serving under the Sith and any other of his superiors, except Moff Drybis Lyken . Everyone on board knew that Curtis already despised him.

As the Officers exited the room, off to the complete their various orders, Curtis looked at a Datapad on the table and saw the current time. He could only think of one thing. Did his message get through. Did it get through to Orion.

There was no reply, for obvious reasons, sending a reply would endanger the entire scheme. He knew that Orion had most likely received it and had sent the information on up through his superiors to be used against the Sith at one point or another. He would want to keep one of the old battlecruisers for himself, but that could wait.

He decided that with this most recent slight against him, his near defeat at Ziost. "Ugghhh, how dare they use me like a pawn!", Curtis thought to himself. He was so fed up with being treated like a dog, to be at beck and call to his petulant Sith masters.

Enough was Enough.

He would accelerate his plans, he planned to defect very soon.

However, he had three things he would have to accomplish before he could, besides repairing his damaged ship.

First, was getting the last bit of vital intel he could, to Orion and his future colleagues.

Second, was to attempt to get the majority of his crew to join him. He knew the lower deck crew would, they served as basically indentured servants and most had no living families to fear for. The middle deck crews like engineering and the troopers and pilots, could be swayed, but they would have to willingly accept. Then lastly, would be his subordinate officers. They would be the hardest to turn. Especially Dranva. Curtis doubted that he could ever be turned, killing him was probably easier.

Third, was to sabotage one more Sith target, to ensure he was truly welcome when he defected to the New Imperials. To ensure and show his loyalty to his New Imperial brothers. Respect. He wanted their respect.

It was all he ever really wanted...Respect.

He would put these plans into motion very soon. He would begin with obtaining the intel. Curtis thought he could manage that easily enough, as he stood up and left the room.

Or, so he thought.......




Gallius Orcana

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[Gallius Orcana]

NIV PRIDE OF THE EMPEROR

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THIRD FLEET

The Pride of the Emperor was flying again, leaving the repair docks and joining his next assignment, Thyrsus. The thyrsian people had expressed the will to join the Empire, and such decision meant the Imperials had to prove themselves capable of repaying the debt contracted during the invasion of Bastion, where Sunguards had died to defend the imperial capital.

While the Cuirassier was leving the system, Gallius read again the reports he received. At last, Oben had been pacified, and the kaleesh insurrectionnists had been vanquished. Some other reports indicated fights over arkanian holdouts, where an imperial expedition had been dispatched. But what was upsetting was the lack of report from Javelin. It was unusual, but not worrying. Sometimes, Javelin did not report for weeks before emitting again. The other frustration Gallius had was that the high command had not answered him, or even acknowledged his report containing the vital informations from Javelin.

Gallius knew he had to repay a debt to Jaeger Harrsk, and he decided that making an enemy from the head of COMPNOR was something foolhardy, even for him. He copied the report he had sent to Grand Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber, and pasted it on a report he sent to Harrsk. He added a small edit, asking him if he could capture the battlecruisers himself, then closed the datapad. The ship was ready to jump into hyperspace towards Thyrsus. Gallius gave the order, and his cruiser was hurled in the madness of the blue light.

 

[Gallius Orcana]

NIV PRIDE OF THE EMPEROR

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THIRD FLEET

The battle over Generis was intense. But Gallius did not care, for he had identified the Harrower-class Cruiser he was looking for. After rewiewing his plans for many hours, Gallius had come to a conclusion.

In the months that passed since Javelin first contacted him, Gallius had grown enthusiast of a potential turncoat. The intel Javelin gave him was reliable, and some operations had been successful thanks to them. COMPNOR had expressed concern about that potential double agent, and so Gallius had agreed to let Jaeger Harrsk and his men interrogate Javelin after the battle. This was the most secure way to accept Javelin into the ranks of the Empire.

And as the battle raged on, Gallius felt that cold shiver all the way down his back. He had a bad feeling about this. This whole turncoat operation was probably just an elaborate way to infiltrate a Sith into their ranks. What could he do ?

He put the datapad down, and decided not to send the message yet. This was dangerous, and Javelin could be a mortal enemy, as well as the best comrade he could hope to gain. But Gallius was unsure of what to do. Even knowing this operation had received the approval of the headquarters did not reassure Gallius at all. This was rare, but Gallius hesitated.

His mind was confuse and uncertain, and Gallius battled to reach a conclusion, a decision. He sat, distracted from the battle. No one could help him make the choice.

He settled on a compromise. Javelin would receive his order, but only if the battle turned against the Imperials. That secret joker card would tip the balance of the war, and erase any thoughts Gallius could have on Javelin's loyalty.