UNKNOWN REGIONS
NEAR SARVCHI SECTOR
The
FIV Resurgent burst from hyperspace with a visible distress, and shower of hull plating and debris, as the engines of the mighty Super Star Destroyer flared and sputtered out. It hung there, in the void of space, surrounded by darkness and stars for a while, unmoving. The distant planetary bodies of the Sarvchi system floated millions of parsecs away, unaware and unaffected by the large vessels plight, and there was a dead calm after the sheer destruction that had permeated the entirety of the Csilla sector.
On the secondary bridge, deep inside the bowels of the near-ruined warship, the crew were pulling themselves back into some semblance of order and organization. Allegiant General Gannan slowly stood, the side of his head covered in blood, as he reached out a hand for a rail to stabilize himself. He took stock of the bridge, the personnel around, and noted that most appeared well - or relatively so - with perhaps a few that required immediate medical attention.
The status of the
Resurgent and its people were obvious.
"Bridge stations, begin vessel reports," Gannan said in a low voice, as he let out a slow exhale of exasperation.
"Comms, call for any available medical teams. First responders, begin first aid treatment... and sensors, tell me what just happened."
There were confirmations, as the assortment of crew began to mobilize. Training began to take over for many, in the aftermath of a near-death experience, as the realization of having survived the collision against the superweapon dawned on them. Others were in a state of disbelief, unable to comprehend or function, but Gannan wouldn't blame them - he just needed the information from those who could.
"S-sir, sensors picked up on the fluctuation of path drives from the superweapon right before our own hyperdrives were activated," Said one of the younger sensor officers, his uniform torn and one arm clung to his stomach in pain. "From what I can tell... the superweapon - uh -
warped around us? Or slipped past us? And... collided with Csilla..."
So Csilla had been hit.
"Status of the planet?" Gannan dared to hope, but he could tell from the other sentient's expression it wasn't good.
"Extinction event, sir." The sensor officer replied sadly. "We didn't manage to divert the impact."
It was like a punch to the gut. If the Allegiant General hadn't been holding the railing, he sure would have at that moment. There was a sick feeling deep inside, a coiled despair at the failings of an attempt to save millions - billions - of Chiss lives, all for naught. The only glimmer of hope was that some of the population had escaped. But even that paled in the realization of the event and what had befallen the Chiss as a people...
"Vessel status?" Gannan turned to the technical panel crew.
"How bad are we?"
"We're dead in space until repairs, sir." Responded one of the techs. Her hands shook, as she pressed buttons on the console. "Vessel integrity is stable for now, but whole sections on our port side require immediate repairs. Assuming teams can begin reinforcement and repairs, we could be functional enough to enter hyperspace in a few days..."
Gannan nodded. Not ideal, but far from the worst case scenario. At least they were in a position to avoid the need for rescue efforts, and could handle the situation themselves, unless things got worse. The tech continued:
"Reactors were shutdown before overload, we avoided meltdown, shields are out for now, but central internal systems and assets are functional. We can begin synthesizing parts for repairs. The beltway is experiencing outages in areas, the main hangar has some starfighters off the racking and clean up is beginning throughout the vessel."
"Good, keep me updated if anything changes. For the worst." Gannan pushed off the railing and limped over to the comm area. He looked to the crew there.
"Communications with the First Fleet? Updates on the division statuses?"
Despite the events on Csilla, there was no time for mourning, not yet. There were numerous Chiss in the crew, Gannan knew, and he looked toward those on the secondary bridge with a mixture of sympathy and determination. If it was one thing he knew about the species, it was they were less emotional and most, and pragmatic. Surely they would grieve, but for now the Chiss crew were focused, and it helped.
"First Fleet has reported heavy losses, but they managed to escape the destruction and have rerouted to the outer edges of the Csilla system, sir," Said the comm officer, her tone crisp, despite the blood on her cheek and nose. "They are requesting coordinates to regroup with us. Orders?"
"Negative, have them assist in any defensive efforts against remaining Maw forces in the sector," Gannan said, as he pressed a palm to his forehead at the pain there. He could use a stim, truth be told. He was exhausted.
"Also assist with collection of refugee vessels, if they can be found..."
The comms officer nodded and relayed the orders. She looked back, eyebrows raised:
"Also, the Imperial Knights and infiltration forces managed to get out and land on First Order vessels... they escaped the superweapon. Further orders, sir?"
"Contact Dosuun." The Allegiant General said, as he lowered his hand and stood straight. News of his son's survival was a relief. Still, Gannan's dark eyes narrowed, as his lip curled into a snarl.
"Put me through to the Supreme Leader...
Khefiir
seemed to be doing everything he could from not doing...Something. The Trandoshan's jaw was set tight, the lines of his predatory skull visible as an outline against his scales. His thin lips were curled back in a snarl, the sharp teeth interlocked in what looked like rage or pain. 
