This was formerly chapter 9 of "Into enemy Hands" , but I decided to split
the story because the title no longer seemed adequate.
So if you have not read IEH, yet, I strongle recommend you do so, because
this fic here will make no sense without it. You have been warned!
Now, have fun!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, nor did I came up with Star Wars.
AFTERMATH
From: caius julius
Chapter 1: Back Home
Satisfied with his acomplishments Zaarin read his fleet's reports.
His ships were scattered nearly everywhere in the entire sector,
waiting for his signal to cause havoc and chaos.
Since his arrival on the ISD "Glory", his flagship, a day had passed
and still new reports kept flowing in. Everything went as he had
planed. Smiling at himself he leaned back in his chair.
It really had been wise of him to pick the crew of the "Glory" himself.
He had been careful about this and he'd be surprised if there was
even one imperial agent aboard. One capable, that is.
He himself had many useful and extremely capable sources inside the
Imperial Navy, Lt. Commander Bren was just one of them, but a very
thoughtfully placed one.
A signal appeared on his commterminal and Zaarin turned it on, carelessly.
"Sir," the voice of the officer of the day said. "Priority message 1 incoming.
From the frigate "Shamus"."
Zaarin frowned. What was that about?
"Put it through, Commander."
Seconds later an huge number of incomprehensible characters appeared on his screen.
Zaarin activated the decoder and waited for the real message.
What was it the "Shamus" wanted from him? He'd be back within a few days.
What was so important to break the comm-silence he had ordered.
Finally, the screen showed him normal basic and Zaarin began to read.
He didn't believe his eyes.
The message was from the "Shamus"' First Officer, Himo Trolls. He reported
the Imperials had disabled the frigate and were about to board it.
But the worst of it...
"Thrawn." Zaarin's voice trembled with fury and hatred.
His fingers bored into his chair. Abruptly, he jumped out of it and slammed
with his fists onto the desk.
Suddenly he felt very dizzy. He let his head sagg down while he leaned
against the desk.
'Cool it, just don't let it get the better of you', he reminded himself.
'Nothing's lost, yet - not at all!'
Thrawn's rescue was a worst a setback, nothing more.
He - Zaarin - just had to continue what he'd done before.
He keyed some buttons and immediately the positions of all of his ships
appeared on the screen. He would have to change his timeplan but
that was no problem. Everything was prepared.
Thrawn had to recover, this should take some time and Zaarin grinned at the
thought of it. In the meantime, he, Zaarin, the future ruler of his own Empire,
would keep Palpatine's forces busy.
Pain and exhaustion were the first things Thrawn felt when he regained conciousness.
At least he was still alive. But why was he in a bacta-tank? Had Zaarin finally
become soft?
Suddenly, he remembered what had ahppened.
Hadn't the medic on the "Shamus" told him about some imperial Star Destroyer which
had come to rescue him? He tried to shake his head but of course he was still too weak
to do so in a bacta-tank.
Someone out there had noticed his faint tries to move, though. Slowly as if not to
disturb him the person came closer.
Thrawn tried to concentrate his view on the man - he was sure it was a male -
but the exhaustion got the better of him and he was overwhelmed by cold darkness again.
Slowly, the blackness vanished. He felt something warm and soft around him - not
the thick, wet bacta. It felt like a... a blanket. He was lying in a bed!
The faint buzz in his ears turned into low voices, talking somewhere near him.
"-very weak, but it's just a matter of time when he will be able to leave sickbay."
He didn't know that voice - probably a medic. Sickbay, yes that made sense.
"How long do you expect him to stay here?" Parck, that was Parck's voice.
"Well, a weak at least, but you know the Admiral, he'll do anything to get away."
Parck laughed lowly.
Thrawn opened his eyes - and narrowed them at once. The room was only dimly lit
but it was still too bright for the moment. He was surrounded by several machines.
"What's... so funny, Captain?" he asked, still very weak.
Parck turned around and gave him a warm smile.
"I didn't know you were awake already, Admiral. How do you feel?"
Thrawn breathed out carefully.
"Well, I've been better - but compared to the last days this is some improvement."
Parck wanted to ask another question but the other man - indeed a medic - interrupted
him.
"Captain, the Grand Admiral needs rest, as I've told you already. You may see him
later but now you better go." He almost pushed him outside.
Parck waved a hand at Thrawn and left.
Thrawn smiled again. Parck was his friend. Good to know he could always count on him.
"Sir?" Thrawn looked at the medic who stood in front of his bed.
No doubt, there would be a lecture about what he should not do and what he must not
do, that he needed rest and, most importantly, that he had to follow the medics orders.
As it turned out, Thrawn had been right.
So much about taking a rest...
Parck returned to the bridge. He felt much better since he knew Thrawn would be alright.
"Anything new, Commander?" he asked his First Officer.
"We're on course and will reach Fondor tomorrow, Sir. I've send word to our fleet that
we succeeded." Jovis paused. "I trust the Admiral is safe?"
Parck smiled. "Yes, he regained conciousness before the medic shoved me out of the room."
Jovis nodded, his smile fading. "Sir, before our last jump, we received news of an
attack on one of our TIE facilities at Omar. They've been destroyed, completely. No survivors.
It seems to be Zaarin's handwriting."
Parck gritted his teeth. "Ouch. I guess he's a little disappointed about the whole
Orias-thing, isn't he? Back on his old habits, it seems."
He took a datapad from Jovis and read it. "When we're at Fondor we have to ask for more
ships. If we're to stop Zaarin we need a stronger fleet."
Jovis frowned. "The Emperor will not be pleased. He said already his main target is the
Rebellion and he needs most of the whole Imperial navy for it."
Parck shrugged. "Zaarin poses a threat that must not be underestimated. We have never seen
his entire fleet strike at one system. We don't know its exact size. And with every victory
more ships are deserting us to join him. That has to stop and Palpatine must realize it."
Jovis nodded. "Well, good luck then."
Lieutenant Manson entered the meditation chamber. He knew he had no reason to be afraid.
But still... He shuddered once and then straightened himself when he reached his
commander.
"My Lord? You wanted to be kept informed about the aftermath of the events in the Orias-System."
Nothing. Just a stare. At least Mason thought it was a stare for he couldn't see the
other's eyes. There, a small nod, encouraging him to continue.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn's flaggship "Grey Wolf"'s just send a message to our naval base
at Fondor. They will reach the system tomorrow."
Darth Vader nodded again and with this Lieutenant Mason was dismissed.
Only too glad, the Lieutenant left.
"Excellent." Vader said to himself.
He turned to the big screen inside his chamber and activated it.
"Admiral Piett, prepare a couse to Fondor."
"At once, my Lord. Do you wish me to inform them of our arrival?"
Vader thought about it for some time.
"No. No, I don't think there is need for it. Just set the course."
"As you wish, Lord Vader."
Piett bowed and the screen turned black.
TBC... (for sure!)
Now, how's that?
caius julius
the story because the title no longer seemed adequate.
So if you have not read IEH, yet, I strongle recommend you do so, because
this fic here will make no sense without it. You have been warned!
Now, have fun!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, nor did I came up with Star Wars.
AFTERMATH
From: caius julius
Chapter 1: Back Home
Satisfied with his acomplishments Zaarin read his fleet's reports.
His ships were scattered nearly everywhere in the entire sector,
waiting for his signal to cause havoc and chaos.
Since his arrival on the ISD "Glory", his flagship, a day had passed
and still new reports kept flowing in. Everything went as he had
planed. Smiling at himself he leaned back in his chair.
It really had been wise of him to pick the crew of the "Glory" himself.
He had been careful about this and he'd be surprised if there was
even one imperial agent aboard. One capable, that is.
He himself had many useful and extremely capable sources inside the
Imperial Navy, Lt. Commander Bren was just one of them, but a very
thoughtfully placed one.
A signal appeared on his commterminal and Zaarin turned it on, carelessly.
"Sir," the voice of the officer of the day said. "Priority message 1 incoming.
From the frigate "Shamus"."
Zaarin frowned. What was that about?
"Put it through, Commander."
Seconds later an huge number of incomprehensible characters appeared on his screen.
Zaarin activated the decoder and waited for the real message.
What was it the "Shamus" wanted from him? He'd be back within a few days.
What was so important to break the comm-silence he had ordered.
Finally, the screen showed him normal basic and Zaarin began to read.
He didn't believe his eyes.
The message was from the "Shamus"' First Officer, Himo Trolls. He reported
the Imperials had disabled the frigate and were about to board it.
But the worst of it...
"Thrawn." Zaarin's voice trembled with fury and hatred.
His fingers bored into his chair. Abruptly, he jumped out of it and slammed
with his fists onto the desk.
Suddenly he felt very dizzy. He let his head sagg down while he leaned
against the desk.
'Cool it, just don't let it get the better of you', he reminded himself.
'Nothing's lost, yet - not at all!'
Thrawn's rescue was a worst a setback, nothing more.
He - Zaarin - just had to continue what he'd done before.
He keyed some buttons and immediately the positions of all of his ships
appeared on the screen. He would have to change his timeplan but
that was no problem. Everything was prepared.
Thrawn had to recover, this should take some time and Zaarin grinned at the
thought of it. In the meantime, he, Zaarin, the future ruler of his own Empire,
would keep Palpatine's forces busy.
Pain and exhaustion were the first things Thrawn felt when he regained conciousness.
At least he was still alive. But why was he in a bacta-tank? Had Zaarin finally
become soft?
Suddenly, he remembered what had ahppened.
Hadn't the medic on the "Shamus" told him about some imperial Star Destroyer which
had come to rescue him? He tried to shake his head but of course he was still too weak
to do so in a bacta-tank.
Someone out there had noticed his faint tries to move, though. Slowly as if not to
disturb him the person came closer.
Thrawn tried to concentrate his view on the man - he was sure it was a male -
but the exhaustion got the better of him and he was overwhelmed by cold darkness again.
Slowly, the blackness vanished. He felt something warm and soft around him - not
the thick, wet bacta. It felt like a... a blanket. He was lying in a bed!
The faint buzz in his ears turned into low voices, talking somewhere near him.
"-very weak, but it's just a matter of time when he will be able to leave sickbay."
He didn't know that voice - probably a medic. Sickbay, yes that made sense.
"How long do you expect him to stay here?" Parck, that was Parck's voice.
"Well, a weak at least, but you know the Admiral, he'll do anything to get away."
Parck laughed lowly.
Thrawn opened his eyes - and narrowed them at once. The room was only dimly lit
but it was still too bright for the moment. He was surrounded by several machines.
"What's... so funny, Captain?" he asked, still very weak.
Parck turned around and gave him a warm smile.
"I didn't know you were awake already, Admiral. How do you feel?"
Thrawn breathed out carefully.
"Well, I've been better - but compared to the last days this is some improvement."
Parck wanted to ask another question but the other man - indeed a medic - interrupted
him.
"Captain, the Grand Admiral needs rest, as I've told you already. You may see him
later but now you better go." He almost pushed him outside.
Parck waved a hand at Thrawn and left.
Thrawn smiled again. Parck was his friend. Good to know he could always count on him.
"Sir?" Thrawn looked at the medic who stood in front of his bed.
No doubt, there would be a lecture about what he should not do and what he must not
do, that he needed rest and, most importantly, that he had to follow the medics orders.
As it turned out, Thrawn had been right.
So much about taking a rest...
Parck returned to the bridge. He felt much better since he knew Thrawn would be alright.
"Anything new, Commander?" he asked his First Officer.
"We're on course and will reach Fondor tomorrow, Sir. I've send word to our fleet that
we succeeded." Jovis paused. "I trust the Admiral is safe?"
Parck smiled. "Yes, he regained conciousness before the medic shoved me out of the room."
Jovis nodded, his smile fading. "Sir, before our last jump, we received news of an
attack on one of our TIE facilities at Omar. They've been destroyed, completely. No survivors.
It seems to be Zaarin's handwriting."
Parck gritted his teeth. "Ouch. I guess he's a little disappointed about the whole
Orias-thing, isn't he? Back on his old habits, it seems."
He took a datapad from Jovis and read it. "When we're at Fondor we have to ask for more
ships. If we're to stop Zaarin we need a stronger fleet."
Jovis frowned. "The Emperor will not be pleased. He said already his main target is the
Rebellion and he needs most of the whole Imperial navy for it."
Parck shrugged. "Zaarin poses a threat that must not be underestimated. We have never seen
his entire fleet strike at one system. We don't know its exact size. And with every victory
more ships are deserting us to join him. That has to stop and Palpatine must realize it."
Jovis nodded. "Well, good luck then."
Lieutenant Manson entered the meditation chamber. He knew he had no reason to be afraid.
But still... He shuddered once and then straightened himself when he reached his
commander.
"My Lord? You wanted to be kept informed about the aftermath of the events in the Orias-System."
Nothing. Just a stare. At least Mason thought it was a stare for he couldn't see the
other's eyes. There, a small nod, encouraging him to continue.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn's flaggship "Grey Wolf"'s just send a message to our naval base
at Fondor. They will reach the system tomorrow."
Darth Vader nodded again and with this Lieutenant Mason was dismissed.
Only too glad, the Lieutenant left.
"Excellent." Vader said to himself.
He turned to the big screen inside his chamber and activated it.
"Admiral Piett, prepare a couse to Fondor."
"At once, my Lord. Do you wish me to inform them of our arrival?"
Vader thought about it for some time.
"No. No, I don't think there is need for it. Just set the course."
"As you wish, Lord Vader."
Piett bowed and the screen turned black.
TBC... (for sure!)
Now, how's that?
caius julius