The Imperial High Command stood together, staring off into dark abyss of deep space. The bridge was quiet, but then again the whole ship was. So precious few of the Empire left to wander the halls of the ship. Just at the edges of the window was the IMS Tipoca II, the lifeboat that had kept the clan from the brink of oblivion.
“Do you really think Jorm’s plan will work?” Mune questioned.
“It might. If anyone would get it done, it’s him. And if not… His… sacrifice will be remembered as yet another casualty due to this whole thing,” Xen’Mordin replied while gritting his teeth.
“The shock and pain of what happened in the Cocytus system has kept the clan united for now. But they will break. Surviving isn’t enough, Xen,” Elincia said.
“If Jorm succeeds, compiled with the rest of the ships we have been acquiring… We will have enough to at least secure us a new home. With dirt and rock under our feet instead of the cold steel of these ships,” Xen responded.
“Not to mention personal space. I think if we keep enforcing the members to stay on the Tipoca much longer they will finish what the Iron Fleet started and kill each other,” Elincia said. She herself had sealed off a massive section of the station for herself.
“Have you even stepped foot on the station since your initial appearance Xen?” Mune asked.
“Now and again. To show solidarity to the members,” Xen said. He paused a moment before continuing, “With the rest of the ships here we can break up the members and crews enough to space them out some. Though I don’t anticipate them spending much time here anyway.”
He began to pace. Jorm was late, and the anticipation was killing him. They needed to round off their fleet. All it would take was one band of pirates to find them, or worse the Republic, or worser the Iron Fleet. Xen knew they’d probably still die even with the additional ships, but at least it would be a heroic and valiant undertaking.
Elincia and Mune continued to talk while Xen paced. Now and again the synthetic tones of G14 would interject its own thoughts and opinions. The only peace Xen found as he paced was that the Grand Vizier and Grand Admiral both knew what they were doing, a mountain of tasks off his plate to worry about.
Then a Venator-class ship dropped out of hyperspace before them. Jorm’s gleeful voice crackled through the comms. He was yelling over the sound of music.
“The Swarm Lord is here and reporting for duty.”
IMS Tipoca II
Once again all the clan members of Scholae Palatinae were herded together in the halls of the medical station, this time with much more pushing and shoving. Standing on a makeshift platform before the giant atrium windows was their Consul, still looking out of place among the mess of supplies that had been acquired and stored there.
In the windows behind him, they were able to make out the Sidious which had been joined by several other large ships, and a mass of smaller ones, all moving to surround the station in a defensive pattern.
Xen attempted several times to quiet the clan so he could speak. After his yells for silence went unanswered, G14 interjected by blasting a high pitched screech into the room. After some very profane and inventive cursing by everyone in the room, Xen included, there was silence.
“As you might have noticed, we have… obtained some new ships. This station is no longer horrible under defended, only moderately so. So you can sleep slightly easier with that knowledge,” Xen began gesturing out the window.
“I would like to introduce you all to some of the ships that will help us get off this station and back to solid ground.”
A holoprojector hummed to life displaying the Victory-class Sidious.
“By now you all are familiar with out new flagship, the Sidious”, Xen said. The image changed to the Venator-class ship.
“The Swarm Lord,” Jorm interjected with glee. Xen shook his head.
“Thank you Jorm, but this ship shall be known as the Vader. Obviously you all are familiar with who he was,” Xen said. The image changed again to a Vindicator-class cruiser.
“This is the Tarkin, named for the first and great Grand Moff of the Galactic Empire, and regional Governor of the Outer Rim Territories,” Xen stated. The holoprojection flickered, and still displayed a Vindicator class, only with slightly different wear and tear.
“And this is its twin, the *Thrawn *. Admiral Thrawn was a brilliant tactician and military genius, worthy of our recogntition.” The image changed to an Acclamator-class assault ship.
“And finally the Amedda. Mas Amedda served Emperor Palpatine from his rise as Chancellor in the Senate and as Grand Vizier through his life as the Emperor,” Xen said. The projector changed to show some of the smaller vessels they had bought, borrowed, and stolen in a quick order.
“I know it’s not like what we had. But with this fleet, we now have the means to defend ourselves again, and more importantly, take ourselves a new home,” Xen finished.
“Glad to see your quality of life hasn’t been hindered by the loss of our home,” Braecen jested.
“It can be a bit cramped with both of our egos present. Why don’t you take a seat with the rest of us, Executor?” Xen sighed. Yorzhul let out what sounded like a laugh followed by some quiet growls. His droid looked up and began to translate quickly, before realizing the Wookiee was talking to himself and not to the others. It looked back and forth from its master to the others sitting around the table before attempting to shrink itself as small as possible.
“I’ll keep this simple. We have the means to strike out now. And I know everyone in the clan, us included, is looking forward to letting loose some steam,” Xen said. He pointed to Yorzhul and Braecen.
“I am expecting both of you to oversee your houses lead an… excursion out into the wilds of space. How you go about that I leave to you and your members. It is time we find a new home.”