Jedi Insurgency 284 (Interlude 45)

Although two freighters had crashed into it, and an epic duel between Jedi & Sith had taken place nearby, the former Jedi Temple on Coruscant had had its own personal shield, and sat atop a Darkside Nexus, shielding it from the worst of the damage. 

Now, just three days after that momentous raid, some of the brightest minds had gathered together within this heavily damaged structure to rescue the Empire from the jaws of defeat. 

At the head of the table, Ardus Kaine watched the Imperial Leadership Council convene with glassy, sightless eyes. His severed head had been mounted upon a black iron spike at the far end of the conference chamber, directly beneath the scarlet banner of the Empire. The preservation process had left his skin waxen and pale, while the harsh lighting rendered every crease of his final fearful expression unmistakable.

A small plaque had been fitted to the base of the spike.

ARDUS KAINE

FORMER ADMIRAL 

FORMER SUPREME COMMANDER

FAILED HIS EMPEROR. DISPLEASED HIS PRINCE.

Leading this meeting was the Crown Prince's new favorite, Supreme Commander Thrawn. Standing at the head of an elongated obsidian table, dressed in an immaculate white uniform was the young Chiss. His crimson eyes passed once over Kaine’s remains, studying the arrangement as he might have studied a piece of art from a conquered civilization.

The message lacked subtlety. That, Thrawn supposed, was the point.

With the Emperor withdrawn from public view and Crown Prince Vader occupied by his training, authority over the Empire’s strategic direction had fallen to Thrawn. It had not been announced with a ceremony or any pomp. No. Instead, there had only been orders bearing Vader’s seal, and of course, Kaine’s head.

Around the table sat what remained of the Empire’s uppermost leadership.

Sate Pestage looked as though the calamity on Coruscant had afflicted him personally. The economist’s gaunt face was nearly bloodless, his eyes sunken behind dark circles. He clutched a datapad in long, fragile fingers and occasionally suppressed a dry cough into a folded handkerchief.

Beside him sat Mas Amedda, resplendent in ceremonial robes, his vast blue shoulders held rigidly upright. His long horns framed a face carefully arranged into diplomatic neutrality. He and Pestage had worked together for years, competed for longer, and both were distinctly pleased that neither of them occupied the title of Supreme Commander. 

Lio Partagaz occupied the chair opposite them. Newly elevated to command the Imperial Security Bureau after Ysanne Isard’s death during the catastrophe, he possessed none of his predecessor’s theatrical malice. Dressed in a white uniform, and possessing slightly greying hair, the tan Human man had a keen intellect, and was expressly chosen for this role after receiving Thrawn's recommendation. His skills deigned towards order, and he would execute the Empire's will to the best of his ability. A row of neatly aligned datapads rested before him, each one detailing innumerable reports & statistics. 

Major General Maximilian Veers was a pale man with a severe look. Wearing an olive green uniform, he sat with a soldier’s rigid posture, his newly issued rank plaque gleaming upon his chest. Vader had raised him to command the Grand Army of the Empire, claiming that young, fresh blood was necessary to purify the upper ranks. Of everyone at the table, he seemed to be the least troubled by Kaine’s presence. Veers had been a mere Lt. Colonel in the GAR, but as a vocal supporter of Skywalker in the past, he now enjoyed the fruits of his loyalty. 

The final attendee was Jerec.

The newest representative of the Inquisition sat in a cloak of shadows. Inspired by the Jedi he had fought earlier, and studying the holocron Prince Vader had gifted him, Jerec had upgraded his powers and his loyalties. His empty eyes covered by an ornate black visor, he had spoken to no one since entering, and was content to act as an observer. 

Thrawn touched a button, and a vast holographic map of the galaxy blossomed above the table. Imperial space burned crimson, but the map was a live feed, and showed many areas filled with contention. Patches of blue, green, gold, and pink had begun to appear along major trade lanes. Republic incursions, Separatist enclaves, Mandalorian warbands, and pirate fleets all had their place on the map. 

Coruscant itself flickered, indicating the massive damage dealt to the galaxy's capital. 

“One tenth of the Imperial capital has been destroyed.” Thrawn began the meeting with a declaration, his eyes glancing over everyone, holding their attention. “The Emperor remains unavailable after taking blame for this catastrophe, whilst Crown Prince Vader has entrusted us with the continuation of the war. Our enemies interpret these circumstances as weakness.”

“Our enemies smell blood in the water, Grand Admiral.” Pestage commented with a cough. 

“They possess hope, a much more dangerous elixir, one would suppose.” The Chiss rebutted, taking note of Pestage's ever worsening condition. 

Thrawn's fingers smoothly moved across the console, revealing Coruscant's lost districts, collapsed infrastructure, ruined ministries, displaced citizens, destroyed industrial capacity, etc. “Minister Pestage. Your assessment, if you would.” 

“The reconstruction of Coruscant alone will consume the equivalent output of several major sectors. That excludes the loss of taxable commerce, refugee relocation, food imports, atmospheric stabilization, and the regrettable destruction of three central financial archives. Meanwhile Kuat is under pressure due to the siege. Shipping insurance has tripled along several coreward routes. The assault upon Murkhana has destabilized Corporate Alliance lending, while Corellia’s betrayal has cost us both shipbuilding capacity and prestige. Our sources are diminishing at a rate that is untenable, Supreme Commander. And.” Pestage continued darkly. “Some nameless Weequay pirate has apparently decided that stealing from Imperial logistics is his personal amusement.”

“Hondo Ohnaka. Former leader of the Ohnaka Gang. Smuggler, pirate, extortionist, arms dealer, occasional informant, and a known asset of Revan.” Partagaz explained, flipping to one datapad, and uploading his file to the holotable for everyone to see. 

At the name of that man, Jerec’s fingers tightened upon the arm of his chair.

“Ohnaka once captured and attempted to ransom Count Dooku, Anakin Skywalker, and Obi-Wan Kenobi simultaneously. He survived the experience, and has to date seized some 500 millions worth of materials within the last three months.” Partagaz said, succinctly, professionally finishing his report. 

Thrawn enlarged several images taken from the hulls of robbed Imperial transports. Brightly painted symbols covered the durasteel: crude faces, taunting slogans, crooked crowns, dancing lizards, and one remarkably elaborate mural of a Weequay standing atop an Imperial Star Destroyer with a bottle raised triumphantly in one hand.

“The gang has left behind extensive graffiti over the years. This paints quite an interesting picture into the life of Hondo Ohnaka.” Thrawn observed.

“Graffiti, really.” Pestage deadpanned. 

“Art, Minister. Art need not be technically accomplished to reveal its creator.” Thrawn said as he studied the largest mural. “Ohnaka desires wealth, certainly, but wealth alone does not explain his behavior. He prizes the performance of freedom. He wishes to be seen as ungovernable. Every theft is an act of rebellion, theater to the masses.” 

Thrawn particularly zoomed in on several images of Hondo being possibly threatened by an HK unit. He then dismissed the image and looked directly at the ISB chief.

“Chart Ohnaka’s recent movements. Do not apprehend him. I intend to make him an offer he cannot refuse.”

“What offer could possibly entice a man like that? Fame, riches, the scum seemingly has it all.” Pestage scoffed. 

“Freedom, Minister.” Thrawn simply replied. 

“Freedom from the Jedi. Interesting. Should he serve as a witness, his word could prove useful in the court of public opinion.” Partagaz said, inclining his head towards Thrawn, acknowledging his insight. 

“Precisely. Ohnaka has benefited from Revan’s protection. He has also become dependent upon it. Such men resent every obligation, including those that keep them alive. Offer him amnesty, unrestricted passage through selected Imperial sectors, and legal recognition of his holdings.”

“You would legalize his theft?” Pestage demanded.

“I would redirect it.” Thrawn smoothly replied. 

“Toward whom?” Veers asked.

“The Alliance, Separatists, Mandalorians. Any neutral power inclined to supply either.” The Chiss shrugged. 

“And should he refuse?” Partagaz questioned. 

“Then he will have revealed that his freedom matters less to him than his loyalty to Revan. That information will also be useful.” Thrawn stated in a calculating tone. 

Pestage placed both palms against the table, and leaned forward. “With respect, Supreme Commander, taming one flamboyant pirate will not resolve the economic catastrophe now consuming the Empire. We are not suffering because one Weequay has painted vulgarities on our cargo ships.”

“Reluctantly, I must agree with my colleague. This all seems rather vague, young master Thrawn. I fail to understand how this aids in our reconstruction effort on Coruscant.” Mas Amedda spoke up for the first time since the meeting began. 

“You are correct, sir.” Thrawn agreed.

His ready concession left Pestage momentarily stranded. Thrawn turned his attention to Mas Amedda.

The Chagrian gave a soft titter, as though amused by some private absurdity. He adjusted the folds of his elaborate robe and adopted the patient expression of a statesman. 

Thrawn regarded him in silence. A small bead of perspiration appeared near one horn of the Chagrian politician. 

“Vice Chair Amedda, are you aware of the present activities of Senators Mon Mothma and Padmé Amidala?”

“Former senators.” Amedda replied smoothly. “And yes, Supreme Commander, I maintain some familiarity with their movements.”

“Some?”

Amedda cleared his throat. “Amidala and Mothma have spent the past several weeks soliciting support for their so-called Alliance to Restore the Republic. Their efforts have been less successful than their broadcasts suggest. Hundreds of governments have turned them away. Many refused even to receive them officially.” He said, allowing himself a measure of satisfaction.

Wordlessly, Thrawn changed the galactic display. Dozens of neutral systems instantly became illuminated in pale white. Trade routes extended from them, threading through intermediaries, shell corporations, humanitarian foundations, and merchant fleets before vanishing into Alliance-held space.

“Those governments refused to join the Alliance publicly. That does not mean they refused to support it.” Thrawn said, then gazed back at his ‘accomplished’ peer barely containing his disappointment. 

“You have evidence?” Amedda asked, barely containing a gulp, he glanced at Kaine's severed head. 

The Grand Admiral highlighted several worlds.

“Medical shipments have risen fourteen percent in sectors bordering Alderaanian operations. Civilian-grade hyperdrive components are disappearing from warehouses faster than local shipyards can consume them. Tibanna exports have been rerouted through companies established less than three months ago. Food shipments destined for depopulated colonies are arriving at colonies whose populations have inexplicably increased only on paper.

Neutrality has become a veil. Volunteers, ships, weapons, credits, they have all begun to ‘mysteriously’ appear within Alliance space. Mothma and Amidala do not require formal declarations to achieve their goals. Even if 10% of a system were to aid their cause, multiply that by ten thousand, and it is enough to wage war with the Empire on a single front. Gentlemen, I need not stress how difficult a multi-front war is with the Separatists recovering, Mandalorians gaining momentum, and the Alliance striking whilst our economy is at its lowest.” 

Amedda dabbed his brow with a cloth, and solemnly stared at the holotable. 

“If we accuse neutral systems without indisputable proof, we risk driving them directly into the Alliance. My influence thus far has limited their material support. Perhaps we can weather the storm?” Amedda suggested. 

Pressing some buttons again, Thrawn separated the neutral worlds on the display into two categories. One group glowed amber, whilst the other turned a deeper, warning red.

“Minister Pestage will prepare selective trade embargoes against systems whose exports correlate most strongly with Alliance activity. Access to Imperial credit, shipping lanes, manufactured goods, and food reserves will become conditional upon full transparency. Major General Veers will deploy inspection forces into those same systems.”

“Supreme Commander, no. This. This cannot be.” Pestage half rose from his chair in muted shock, then sat back down as he racked his lungs. 

Thrawn merely raised an eyebrow, waiting on his colleague to elaborate. 

“You must see reason. The markets are already convulsing. Coruscant requires reconstruction on a scale unprecedented in modern history. Kuat is under siege, Corellia is in revolt, the Separatists are reconstituting their command structure, and now you propose blockading neutral worlds and marching soldiers into their ports?”

“Only to select worlds, Minister.” Thrawn smoothly interjected. 

“Selected worlds…panic will spread, credit will freeze, and local governments will mobilize in self-defense. This could open another front before we have stabilized the ones we already possess. It will ruin the Empire.” Pestage said in a hoarse voice. He then looked to Amedda for support.

The Chagrian’s fingers drummed once against the table, yet he kept mum, afraid to incriminate himself further. Pestage then turned to Veers next, almost pleading.

The general did not immediately answer. His gaze moved from the wounded image of Coruscant to the contested sectors throughout the Core.

“We were both entrusted with these posts by Crown Prince Vader, that trust obligates us to speak plainly.” Veers stated, meeting Thrawn’s gaze without fear. 

“Naturally.” The crimson eyed alien inclined his head. 

“My army is reorganizing after Coruscant. We have lost officers, equipment, and entire command networks. If Vader were here, I believe he would order us to relieve Kuat, confront the Alderaanian incursion at Caamas, and break the enemy concentration around Kashyyyk. Those are clear military objectives. Sending troops into nominally neutral systems disperses our strength, and creates friction where there need not be any.” Veers said, stating his case from a standard military perspective. 

“It does, you are absolutely correct, Major General.” Thrawn agreed. 

“Why, then, have you chosen this course of action? I am not against you, Thrawn, but I need to understand your reasoning before I can agree to this plan.” Veers said with a furrowed brow. 

Thrawn enlarged the map until the scattered holdings of the Alliance stood against the immense breadth of Imperial space.

“Because Kuat is not the center of this war. Nor is Caamas. Nor Kashyyyk.”

His red eyes reflected the light of a divided galaxy.

“Our enemies want us to think in terms of decisive battles. They need dramatic victories. They need liberated planets, destroyed Star Destroyers, heroic broadcasts, and symbols capable of inspiring new recruits. Every spectacular clash serves them, even when they lose more ships than we do.”

He indicated Alderaan, Mon Cala, Corellia, and the dispersed Separatist territories.

“The core members of the Alliance are formidable, but few. Alderaan possesses wealth and discipline. Mon Cala possesses fleets. Corellia possesses industry. The Separatists possess scattered war material and experienced commanders. Yet none of them can independently sustain a conflict against the entire Empire.”

Pestage frowned. “Together, they may.”

“We do not need to conquer every sympathetic world, we need only make assistance costly. Merchants who now donate fuel must fear the loss of Imperial markets. Governors who permit volunteers to depart must understand that Imperial inspectors will arrive in their place. Industrialists selling components through intermediaries must choose between Alliance gratitude and access to the largest economy in the galaxy.”

Amedda shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “And when some choose the Alliance?”

“Then you send me.” Jerec said from the shadow of his corner. “Already, Shu Mai of the CIS has perished due to the Inquisition's interference. Any world that resists shall have Sith Assassins and Dark Adepts spreading fear into their populace. They shall be too destabilized to worry about the squabble between the Empire and those lesser states.” 

Thrawn silently inclined his head, whilst Pestage & Amedda shared a look, tactically agreeing not to get involved. 

Veers studied the hologram, stroking his chin. “You intend to starve the rebellion.”

“Of ships, soldiers, fuel, medicine, and time. That is the plan.” Thrawn nodded along. 

“There will be no glory in such a campaign.” Veers said.

Thrawn looked around the table, from the sickly economist to the sweating diplomat, from the severe intelligence chief to Vader’s favored general and the blind hunter waiting in the shadows. 

“Glory is an expense, at present, the Empire cannot afford it. The Alliance is smaller than we are. Yet it is full of heroism, charisma, and fights for emotionally compelling reasons. Those advantages make it dangerous, but they do not make it inexhaustible.

Our strategy is thus: 

To cut the Alliance off from resupply, and repurpose their contracts from said neutral worlds to rebuild our economy. Deny them replacement vessels. Force their fleets to spend fuel defending half a dozen threatened corridors. Compel their armies to choose which worlds receive weapons and which are abandoned. Let every victory cost them something they cannot replace. 

Before long, Justice shall once more be on the side of the Empire, and when they have crumbled into themselves defending every promise they have made, the Crown Prince shall have his decisive final battle. Then, gentlemen, the galaxy shall know peace.” 

~~~~~~

AN: We're almost done with the Interludes. Sorry if they felt like they ran a little long, but I felt like I needed to show the development of the bad guys/the Rebel Alliance finally taking action.