Star Wars: The Hidden Empire

Chapter Four ~ Licking Wounds

~Enemy's Lament, Bridge ~

"Admiral,should we not pursue them? I thought you intended to capture them"

"Plansare made to be ruined, Capt'n. Their adamancy forced mah hand.Their persistence in their refusal to surrender was their downfall.Their deaths were their own doing. Besides, an opportunity arose. Tosimply pass up the chance to eradicate their leaders would have beencriminal. Without 'em, the rebellion will crumble and die. If theEmpire were to fracture and war, at least the fighting would be doneon one front and not two" Moars nodded in acceptance of herexplanation.

"Anyway,with that problem sorted ah believe it's safe enough ta assistDeath Squadron. If the state of their fleet is anythin' ta go by,they would definitely appreciate our help."

"Agreed,Grand Admiral. Lieutenant Sec." The comms officer looked up atMoars.

"Captain."He said evenly.

"Hailthe Devastator, records show that that was the secondary flagship ofthe fleet."

"Ayesir."

~Devastator, emergency bridge ~

Theyoung captain could not suppress the sigh of utter relief (or was iteuphoria?) that escaped his lips as he gazed, awe inspired at theviewport of the secondary bridge. Only minutes ago were they on thevery precipice of defeat. But by some miracle, their prayers wereanswered and the unnamed ship arrived.

Healmost giggled in childish glee when he saw the ship fire at theplanet below. Knowing full well that the rebels – including theever illusive Luke Skywalker, had no chance of escape. The urge tolaugh outright grew when the ship swung around and fired a secondtime at the retreating rebel fleet. Taking out one of the four MonCalamari Cruisers – and undoubtedly with it, another rebelcommander. It wasn't that he was sadistic, just immensely stressed.

Duringthe entire skirmish, Myron had discretely positioned his fleet behindthe black armada. Safely distanced as to ensure that no stray plasmabolt would further damage any one of his ships – which were alreadyin such a state of disrepair as it was. It was during this time thatthe full weight of his duties as both an acting captain and admiral,presented itself

Despitethe destruction of the Executor, many of its former personnel stilllived – having escaped in great haste and finding asylum in one ofthe dozen star destroyers. Amongst those survivors was the fleetadmiral himself. However, Firmus Piett did not escape withoutconsequence. Savaged by the inferno that became the bridge, hearrived on the Devastator in a comatose state. Over half of the othersurvivors faced similar situations, now clogging up the med bays ofevery ship. If the solution wasn't solved anytime soon, Myron maytoo find himself in the infirmary, lest he dies of an aneurysm.

"Captain,we're being hailed."

"Bywho?" He already knew the answer, as it was an obvious one, but thebattle and recent promotion made him weary.

"Theship identifies as 'Enemy's Lament'. An . . . Eclipse-classdreadnaught?" The lieutenant answered puzzled. " . . . A GrandAdmiral Serila Valiente is hailing us sir."

"AGrand Admiral?" The lieutenant nodded his head.

"Nowonder why the rebels lost so quickly. Open a channel." A lifesized hologram of a white clad woman appeared before them.

"Thisis Grand Admiral Valiente. I inform you that we've received yourdistress signal and that the threat has now been eliminated." Shepaused, "It has become obvious, that Death Squadron is in need ofassistance. Who is currently in command? I will address them." Hertone was nonchalant and exceedingly professional, in contrast to herworried expression as she examined the state of the crew, bloodiedand shaken.