“It is our suggestion that the vessel is bound for limits beyond our own galaxy Madam Director. The vector in question accounts for it, however the calculations to derive such an endeavor confound rationality.” Evan Sylde said eloquently through the comm device within Ysanne Isard’s desk.
“To what degree, and to whom, may I ask, would congratulations be offered for such a feat?” She asked, certain the verbose reply would provide enough time to insert an ear bead and prompt Timms with a series of commands on her minipad keyboard. ‘Concentrate on anonymity and relay any findings to my ear bead.’ She typed out quickly and silently, serving her system the parameters required while it continued its intrusive breach deep within ‘Seven’s’ encrypted code.
“Understood Madam.” Timms replied softly into her right ear.
“...bypassing the outward systems and any obstruction by mere degrees. The source would have to be independent of human, or any biologic for that matter, prompting.” Sylde continued, Ysanne only catching the remainder of the droning voice.
“So, nobody then…” Ysanne offered in a front to fuel her own objectives.
“There is one, but she has been summarily dealt with.” Sylde countered with crisp clarity.
“Would that be the subject of your veiled, contentious, and ultimately tedious after-action report that no one can understand? The Fardi woman?” She clipped, torn between fueling the man’s desire to fill the air with the sound of his own voice and a presumption that he was always the smartest end of any conversation, or pressing the nature of the report that reported nothing substantive.
“Fardi is dead. We executed the matter ourselves some time ago Madam.” Sylde countered, dismissing the afront in a genuine nature.
“Then we’ve gotten nowhere in our collective assessment Captain. I’ll leave the impossibility of the Hyper jump to you and your calculations.” Ysanne offered a reasonable rebuttal without defaming the man at all, yet she could sense he was becoming aggravated just the same.
“Madam, his system is vast to say the least. There are open ended links to every known access point throughout Imperial record. All accept our own.” Timms reported his preliminary findings, “the longer you are able to keep him connected to your terminal the further I can go.”
Ysanne typed out her authorization to proceed right after asking whether or not their own system had been compromised.
“None that I can detect, but the encryption level is vast, noteworthy because it appears to have been authored outside of its created parameters.” Timms responded immediately.
“What?” Ysanne shouted her question out of shock, quickly damning herself for the outburst.
“I said, there wouldn’t be enough fuel aboard a vessel of that size to carry it beyond the Dalonbian Sector...there is a good chance we can locate it there.” Sylde repeated himself, an audible exhale of frustration Ysanne noted with a crooked smile.
“I can dispatch an investigatory ensemble to do just that Captain.” She replied to the question in good natured sincerity, welcoming the practice of utter manipulation to its core.
“There is no need Madam Director, we have already done so. We should have some form of result in the next five hours or so.”
“Keep him online Madam, I am finding intrusions by his own system into the Imperial Penal core systems, a considerable amount of navigation downloads from Imperial Securities Bureau archives..”
“I must insist Captain, at least accept a pair of our latest corvettes, they could offer much by way of picketing if you were to find yourself in harm’s way. The Sector lies outside the reach of our Outer Rim patrols after all.” Ysanne continued stalling for time.
“For the sake of mutual understanding, I will not disagree Madam, but know that Silent Fleet is quite capable of taking care of itself.” Sylde replied, opening the door for Ysanne that could keep the channel open indefinitely.
“But Captain, surely the action over Ambria would counter that statement.”
“Stores and cache, weapons migration, patrol movements, construction efforts…” Timms reported silently into Ysanne’s ear. She pressed a button on the device in her palm that halted the relay, giving her time to prompt a sudden question of her own.
‘DS2?”
“Not that far, those security levels are even above our own Madam, however the Anti Intrusion operation in and around Sullust has been meticulously combed over, for lack of a better phrase.” Timms replied.
‘Continue.’ Ysanne prompted.
“Each element has been assigned a refresh rate with return information coming back to ‘Seven’ every five minutes.” Timms continued as instructed.
‘Not the diatribe, continue with your intrusion.’ She redirected the misunderstood prompt.
“...only after our arrival, we would have been much more efficient had we been notified first and foremost.” Sylde continued his own long-winded recount.
“But the loss of three Star Destroyers outright accounts for almost half the total losses combined Captain.” Ysanne fired the dagger where it would do the most damage, but she wasn’t done as she prepared to slam the weapon to its hilt, “The loss of one to a lone A/SF-01, another to a reported phantasm...perhaps your fleet has been in deep space too long Sylde.” She capped the comment with a refusal to convey title.
“Well, that will get his attention.” Timms sidestepped his own objective to offer the commentary, Ysanne biting back the urge to laugh in kind.
“That was uncalled for Madam Director.” Sylde responded, his agitation pronounced clearly through the transmission, “even Lord Vader gave testimony to its validity.”
“Captain, I do not mean to jest on your behalf, I am only offering a difference of opinion on the matter.” She covered for herself with enough panache to sound believable, remembering the audio feed that had surfaced through the investigation that had followed the encounter where Sylde himself had questioned his own Captains mental state.
“There is no arbitrary rationale to describe insurgent transgression through any account Madam Director, despite Imperial losses over Ambria, a rebellious faction was dealt a critical blow.” Sylde responded in redundant circles.
“But not the alliance itself…” Ysanne replied without thinking it through. The harumph in response assured her it wasn’t taken kindly.
“Director Isard, you of all should know that insurgency stems well beyond a small group that has openly defied our Emperor with proclamation. The fleets over Ambria should define as much, one aided, I might add, by your own father…”
The man had crossed a line and Ysanne swallowed the comment hard. “I will not stand accused of anything the man did, nor what my family name might imply to some. I will only stand with my own record and the exploits of Imperial Intelligence under my guidance.”
“Madam, there are various junctures within its core systems that defy logic, programming and coding I’ve never seen before. Proceeding may have severe consequences.” Timms updated his Director at the zenith of her emotional uprising.
‘Proceed. We need to know how far that system reaches.’
“Madam Director, let us begin anew as this conversation has devolved to a meritless juncture.” Sylde said with deep exhale.
“I will agree with that Captain, and I do apologize for my part in it. I, of course, mean no disrespect.” Ysanne worked up an exterior facade, not at all interested in the pleasantries suggested.
“If we are to make any progress, let us first discover what we can within the Dalonbian Sector. We can then proceed with a firm understanding of the situation.” Sylde responded, bypassing the apology outright.
“Madam, there are several highly classified files deep within the core system. Accessing them would most certainly result in our detection.” Timms chimed in lightly through the ear bead.
Ysanne Isard sat back in her padded chair slowly, the adrenaline that had fueled the aggressive conversation ebbing its flow as fatigue began to claim her. She let her silver locks fold across her cheeks and absently gazed through the office toward the heavy clear doors and the backs of her personal guard. She could not perceive any form of gain, or end for that matter, within the conversation with the Captain and Timms’ regretful inquiry presented an impossible choice. ‘Risk exposure? See where this conversation takes me? Both?’ The thoughts began to jumble without any clear path toward solution.
“Mam?” A third voice joined the foray as the intraoffice comm stirred her from her thoughts.
“Captain if you will excuse me for a moment.” She didn’t wait for Sylde’s reply, quickly pausing the transmission and established the connection with the main offices far below her own. “The hour is late Gith, what is it?”
“Pardon the informality, and lateness of the hour, but a Teebo Fram is asking for you. He insists it is quite urgent.” The man sounded neither apologetic nor interested.
‘The Sullustan?...now?’ Ysanne thought, her mind quickly shifting gears as it worked through her present puzzle, wondering just the same if the timing could be any more inconvenient. “I will be down shortly, keep him within eyesight.” She said, narrowing her eyes with a mind running wild. She quickly tapped at the minipad, ‘Hold,’ before addressing the Captain again. Ysanne ended the transmission with the lower office and reestablished her connection to Sylde. “Where were we Captain?”
“Establishing a modicum of mutual partnership within the Dalonbian Sector Madam, as I have said, Silent Fleet will already have a presence within the Sector. If you were to dispatch any assistance it will have to be soon to maximize our collective efforts.” Sylde stated, even knowing the venture would yield nothing informative, a particularity he expertly concealed.
“Very well Captain. What assets will you employ?” Ysanne needed to know so as to up her own stake in the task.
“We have three SDs within the Karyth system and another five enroute to Ziell and Nukuot systems respectively.” Sylde responded hastily, a particularity Ysanne picked up on immediately.
‘At least twelve assets then.’ She thought, assuming the Captain would employ the same tactics she would.
“Very well Captain Evan Sylde. I will dispatch any assets closest I can get my hands on. We will discover this truth together.” She was fairly certain it sounded genuine enough.
“Thank you Madam Director.” He returned, ending the transmission abruptly as the comm chimed twice.
“Timms, nix the bead. I want you to remain idle for the time being, I need to deal with the Sullustan presently.”
“Agreed Madam.” Timms replied through the audio output within her desk.
✦
“How far did she get?” Evan Sylde leaned over comms bank directly in front of both his comms officer and tactical specialist, whispering the question with a look of growing concern draping down his cheeks and into the disheveled stubble he hadn’t bothered grooming. Pritcar ran a nervous hand through the overgrowth of auburn curly hair at his forehead, a volume of sweet along with it. Bev took a seat before her console, ensuring the connection with Coruscant was free and clear before uttering another word. She blinked through the question, noting her Captains unusually elevated degree of concern while she pulled her own blonde hair into a tight bun atop her head. All of them waiting patiently for Seven’s response.
“Apologies for the delay Captain.” Seven began, “to provide a suitable answer I will need to understand the parameters involved.” The responding AI was hesitant, a notable level of latency inflected that all three of them picked up on.
“Did she access Void Eclipse or Umbral Halo. Those are your parameters Seven!” Sylde was close to venting an anger he had not known in quite some time, both Pritcar and Bev backing up somewhat in earnest with a glance toward one another.
“She... did not... Captain.” Seven stuttered noticeably.
“What is wrong with you?” Sylde’s aggravation was beginning to get the better of him, his knuckles turning white atop the console bank as he squeezed both hands into tight fists.
“Establish..parameters...for your..query.” Seven sputtered with both tone and pitch, a static that had never accompanied his vocalizations filling the void between words.
Sylde couldn’t respond, lifting his head to both Pritcar and Bev, neither of which had ever witnessed the fury in their Captain’s eyes.
“Sir, I would suggest Seven be taken offline, or at least partitioned for a full diagnostic. Intrusions should not generate effects such as this. The issue must be deeper.” Bev said softly, taking the moment to seat herself before her station. Pritcar noticed the irregularity but understood the gravity of the situation.
“That would have the potential to compromise your stated agenda within the Dalonbian Sector Captain, at least from a strategic standpoint.” Pritcar spoke up, generalizing the efforts in terms that could present a certain validity to any proposition his Captain could entertain with the Director.
“We all know we won’t find anything there.” Sylde responded with a little more control and a lot less emotion than previously displayed, “it is a dead end and a massive waste of time. No. What we are ultimately looking for is a deception that looks, tastes, and feels like the adversary we officially recorded as deceased.”
“Fardi?” Pritcar almost laughed, but maintained the presence of mind to retain it, “we scanned that wreck multiple times and from three different perspectives.”
Sylde, who had cast his gaze to the cables tucked neatly in the seam between the bank of consoles and the flooring, lifted it again to stare directly into Pritcars brown eyes, flexing his hands openly, “for life signs, yes.”
Not one of them said a word as they exchanged glances with one another, the implications of their Captains suggestion too far-fetched to register with any degree of sense, but, none of them could dismiss it either.
“What if?” Sylde was the first to mull the suggestion over for thought.
“A presumptive beginning Sir, but philosophy isn’t going to solve this particular dilemma.” Bev was the first to add her opinion.
“It would be dangerous to rule out any device that could lead to a possible solution, philosophical or not.” Sylde said, pulling back entirely from the console bank in contemplation.
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin to establish the mathematics involved, this suggests new rules entirely!” Pritcar returned, a bemused look on his face that shone disproportionate from the comment itself, “although, we don’t necessarily need to understand the rules if we just assume it’s possible in principle.”
“And with it an elevated degree of danger overall. If she were able to manifest through a digital scope she would need to embed some degree of programming, code, within an active network…” Bev added to the discussion, pushing herself back from the console with a hand raising to clamp over her mouth.
“Seven was certainly present…” Pritcar added, turning his gaze back to his Captain.
“It would explain his present status.” Sylde had to agree.
“And the Directors intrusion?” Bev continued the active think session.
“...provided the catalyst…” Sylde blew out his breath, torn between euphoria and complete embarrassment, “Prit take him offline and run full diagnostics.” He turned toward the massive viewing screens in the rear of the command center of the Sidious. “Let’s begin with the known trajectory on one.”
With his chin between his right index finger and thumb he waited patiently for the image to display the heavy freighters known trajectory within a galactic overview. A perfectly straight line appearing in red from the blue dot that represented Coruscant to a green field that would arbitrarily symbolize the Dalonbian Sector. “Good. Now possible egress perpendicular corresponding with any recorded Imperial incident since departure time.” Sylde instructed, waiting patiently for the manual data entry from the crew around him. One by one, seventeen separate lines in red that crossed the initial trajectory representation appeared with either exact or near approximate perpendicularity appeared, Eleven of which were [Galactic West], leaving only six [Eastward]. “Let’s being with the lower integer, I want details on any reports. We don’t have Seven to assist people, so your accuracy is essential.”
“Insurgency near Sarka II, on screen Captain.” Came a shout from a console bank to Sylde’s left, his own attention drawn to the larger of the three screens in the center. “Local uprising, food shortage. Insurgents terminated.” Sylde said for everyone’s benefit, his voice amplified throughout the command center so that all could hear without pausing in their own efforts. “Next.”
“Kaliin 3, Ord Radama System. Protests over land rights and Imperial Ag operations.” Another operative shouted.
“Next.” Sylde didn’t even bother with a visual, “Inconsistencies with questionable variables.” He updated his own parameters.
“Alca II, third moon, Lucazek System. Training accident, Light Cruiser lost to live weapons training.” A third member of his crew shouted from Sylde’s left. He swung his left arm up to cradle his right elbow as he continued pulling at his chin.
“Screen Two.” Sylde called out with growing curiosity.
“Light Cruiser Vesper, failed to properly evade incoming torpedo barrage. Commanded by Lieutenant Vinten Huage.” Sylde orated, “credentials?” He asked waiting for the late Lieutenant’s information to appear. “Five years’ service, two as Commanding officer. Graduate of Prefsbelt, sixth degree in combat and top ten percent in both strategic and tactical prowess.” Sylde paused to smile as he looked about the general area of the initial shout for this particular file. “Is that you Gibbons?” He asked with a jovial nod to the young man that had stood in recognition. “Does this description sound like a man that would fail a training exercise? Particularly one with live fire involved?” He shouted the question to the young dark-skinned man that stood erect at attention.
“You asked us to segregate inconsistency and questionable variables. This is inconsistent with a remarkably high degree of unimplied falsification, Sir.” The young man stood his ground even after he knew he should have taken his seat, “and, Sir, I knew Vinten well, he was two years ahead of me Sir.” Gibbons recited with more emotion than he would have liked but stated his case with the right amount of emphasis, confident the man he knew would at least get the recognition owed him.
“Outstanding Gibbons, thank you.” Sylde furrowed his brow slightly, bringing both hands to his hips reflexively.
“Let’s get some information outside of the reporting crews please.” Evan Sylde commanded in a voice that everyone was more familiar with, even and calm, confident and relaxed.
“Outward cams on a gas mining rig mid atmospheric Alca II, cloud cover however reduces visibility to nil values. Systemic outpost on moon four of the same, rotational oculus provides blurred image.” Sylde continued reciting the presented information and began leaning toward his analytics team to his left. Everyone in the command center could feel the palpable tension that had been building begin to diminish as they all listened with growing anticipation. Their commander was back.
“Give me the full image on two, particulate entities on three. Get rid of initialization on one, and Bev?” Sylde continued in rapid fire, turning around to face his comms officer, “Get those ships the hell out of Dalonbian Sector. Have them all redirect to our present location.”
“Copy Sir!” Bev let the excitement with the room take her with it.
“On Two.” A shout precluded a long-distance white smear on the center screen just after the galactic diagram winked to black on the left.
“Well, that’s not helpful.” Sylde said, waiting for the follow up to his commands on the right screen, narrowing his eyes somewhat when the general outline of a vessel could be seen deep within the smear itself after twenty times magnification. “Can we estimate distance, and given the oculus, determine rotational metrics within the cam in question?” He needed some measures of the basics in order to begin entertaining the mathematics he would need.
“One hundred fifty thousand kliks approximate, rotational speed three hundred.” The reply came quickly.
“On screen please.” Sylde commented, slowly stepping toward the screens as he surveyed the information. “Where are we at Prit?” He asked without turning his gaze.
“Seventy eight percent Sir.” Pritcar answered over his shoulder.
“Then we do this old school..” Sylde said furrowing his brow again as he narrowed his eyes. Evan Sylde consumed the data upon the screens letting his arms drop loosely to his sides before elevating the slightly. He opened his hands, stretching his fingers with his palms downward before lifting them further as a conductor preparing his symphony for their greatest show.
With his mind clear of distraction, Evan Sylde promptly sidestepped his way to the analytics console, those on duty evacuating their respective seats to make way. He pressed his hands into the keys provided and began authoring the equations his mind had created, each stroke of the sequential cadence faster, each entry prompt a measure of his determination. Everyone in the room lifted their heads toward the third screen, watching in fascination as the image within shifted in and of irregular focus, expanded and contracted in size and magnified to present a notable outline as Sylde slammed his right forefinger into the entry key for the final time. In his mind, Sylde took a deep bow to the applause of no one as he stared into the third screen himself. “And what does that look like?”
Gibbons was the first to speak up, “Corellian VCX-100 Sir.”
“Very good ensign. Our grand Empire has had multiple incursions, brush ups and instances involving VCX-100’s but only one in conjunction with our initial parameters, isn’t that right Prit.” Sylde said with a smirk.
“The Ghost Sir.”
“The Ghost.” Sylde said turning from the screens and directly toward Bev, “Get me fleet command Lucazek System, Admiral Gentian I believe.” He said, then turned to Pritcar again, “where are we?”
“Eighty seven percent.”
“On you Captain.” Bev said.
“Admiral Gentian?” Sylde asked, his head turned toward the ceiling of his command center, his hands folded in front of him.
“Captain Evan Sylde.” The gruff voice responded with an heir of dignity that surprised some in the room.
“The report you were given involving the Vesper is anything but factual. We have identified hostile aggression taken by a Commander Erris Bleusow in conjunction with a Commander Kastille Guullet to merit supported charges of treason, aiding, and abetting known fugitives and willful destruction of Imperial property. This is being reported to our Emperor as we speak,” Sylde turned to face Bev once again who nodded in the affirmative, “Correction, has already been sent. Furthermore, Lieutenant Vinten Huage will be posthumously recognized, as well as his crew, for heroics above and beyond the call of duty, meritorious Imperial citation and the capture of the terrorist and Rebel General, Hera Syndulla, before his commanding officers intervened and circumvented his heroics, thereby allowing her escape.” Sylde finished as he turned once again toward the screens and the appreciative nod of Gibbons.
“That is an enormous accusation Captain.” Admiral Gentian replied, a certain stutter within presented Sylde the doubt he had expected.
“You will of course benefit from the collaborative data we have compiled. If your Commanders report is accurate, he is guilty. If his report has been falsified...well...the penalty is the same is it not?”
Everyone in the command center waited with an irrational excitement for the Admirals response.
“I see your point Captain.” Came the expected reply, Gibbons firing a fist in the air. “Contingent on your findings of course.”
Sylde turned to Bev again quickly, his hands still folded before him. She had only to nod again in the affirmative before the egregious smile broadened Sylde’s facial features, “Sent Admiral. Good day.” He said and quickly motioned Bev to end the transmission. Sylde raised his hands and turned slowly on the spot, “excellent work everyone. We may be minus our cognitive AI, but nothing trumps teamwork. Thank you.” He looked toward Pritcar again with a questioning expression.
“Ninety three percent.”
“We have cleared our standing order save one individual and have theory to suggest one since deceased is no longer, well, deceased, to be blunt. Our Emperor had entrusted the fallout from the Aborah training facilities into our capable hands, of which we have a ninety nine percent success rate.” Sylde cleared his throat in anticipation for what was next, “that is not one hundred, and we do not accept anything less. KT-306 remains at large….,” He didn’t want to pause but couldn’t believe the information, no matter the data to support it, “as does KS-237.” The gasps thrown about the room made him wince, but data was data, “as you know, this particular duo is formidable to say the least on their own. Suspected present company will increase lethality ten to twenty-fold. There will be no heroics with either of them. It is going to take a concentrated, meticulous effort supplied by this entire fleet to meet the challenge. But we are up to it.” He fermented his own resolve even if he had trouble believing a word of it.
“Inspiring Sir.” Bev whispered once everyone in the room began sending the message to corresponding associates across the whole of Silent Fleet and her Captain approached her once again.
“Noted Bev.”
“One hundred percent Sir.” Pritcar added as Sylde glanced toward him, “you want him online?”
Sylde thought through the question briefly contemplating a multitude of complications if his system were compromised, “Not yet.” He turned to Bev, “get me that damn Director.”
✦
“You have got to be the biggest idiot in the galaxy.” Ysanne shamed the nervous Sullustan seated across the table from her. “Freebo Tam. Teebo Fram. Reebo….what the hell are you thinking!”
Freebo squirmed in the hard plastoid chair set out for him in the tiny interrogation room within Military Intelligence’s third floor, “apologies Director, but the label is not important.”
“It is if you plan on existing beyond the next ten minutes!” Ysanne was beside herself, yet only interested in what the shattered Sullustan had to offer.
“Going forward it will not be...I insist. You have to protect me...call me whatever you like! Assign me to the trash heaps or clean up duty in the Works….just don’t send me back...they’ll kill me!”
“You have it then?” Ysanne crossed her arms before her, planting a foot against the wall against which she was leaning.
“I would not be here otherwise….Freebo needs protection mistress!” Tam replied, his upper lips dripping with nervous saliva.
“Let me see the data, then we’ll talk about further services.” Ysanne countered, narrowing her exotic eyes while holding the Sullustan’s gaze, the large black orbs few could penetrate.
“That would be impossible at the moment.” Freebo responded, rounding his stomach with his tiny hands.
“Thats disgusting…” Ysanne said, squirreling her features inward and shaking her head slightly back and forth.
“You see, Freebo is not an idiot, he comes with assurances yes?”
“Fine…I will grant you your protections, just...do what you have to, but I want that data in my han….” She cut herself off abruptly, “in my possession in the next fifteen minutes.” She rolled her head in disgust, pushed herself from the wall and walked to the door. Inserting her code cylinder into the terminal beside it, she heard the door whoosh open quickly. Ysanne half turned over her shoulder, “now Freebo,” and walked from the room, the door closing securely behind her.
“Ma’am?” The senior of the two securities guards asked as she stepped in line with them, shaking her head free of the visuals she was imagining.
“Kill him and split him open. He is in possession of data I need in hand in the next half hour.”
“I’ll see to it personally.” He returned quickly.
“Well that you do Corporal.” Ysanne responded turning to the right and heading down the austere corridor. The lapel at her left breast vibrated subtly just before reaching the bank of lifts that would return her to her office, “Yes.”
“Captain Evan Sylde again Madam, he insists it’s urgent.” Timms responded quietly through the lapel.
Ysanne blew out her breath, wondering just when the day would finally end. She lifted her head and rolled her eyes back as the lift doors opened, “I am on my way.” She said letting herself drift within its confines only to place her forehead upon its far wall.