The entire process of unloading several hundred personnel from transport to each waiting warship was surprisingly short. Sharp Republic militaristic discipline shone true as the men and women formed orderly rows in the transport’s cavernous receiving deck. The airlocks would seal, the lines of men would march through the narrow passage, from which the airlocks would reseal, and a new warship would take the place of the first. Everything went smoothly, and slowly the receiving deck emptied out until less than two score passengers were left waiting. Syal stood alongside Tiom a short way away from the rest of the Ralroost’s enlisted crewmembers. Although they were technically officers, they were not officially members of the Republic Navy, and were somewhat ostracized from the thirty odd mechanics, troopers, and gunners who made up the larger contingent. Luckily a grizzled looking sergeant had taken charge of the enlisted men, relieving the two pilots of the awkward task of assuming command. After all military doctrine demanded someone needed to always be in a position of leadership, but the pair of Ranger ensigns didn’t exactly savor the challenge. Not to mention the uncertain position of authority they actually held amongst Republic soldiers. Instead, they were content to let the sergeant bark his orders while they talked in low tones, theorizing over what their first missions might be.
Tiom was busy explaining his own thoughts on that very matter. “There’s been trouble brewing over Rodia. Territorial disputes between Ragna and Rodia, I’ve been following along over the holonews. I’ve heard that Alliance Command is considering deploying a few teams of Rangers to help settle things, along with several war ships on the edge of the system. Just incase things turn hot, seeing as Rodia is a Republic planet and Ragna is an independent world.”
Syal was more skeptical. “Isn’t Rodia on the other end of the galaxy from us? If any war craft were deployed it should be from the fourth fleet at Christophsis. Where’d you get all that from anyway? Surely that’s not information the Alliance or the Republic leadership let float around.”
“Uh, yeah that’s true.” Tiom shuffled suddenly slightly embarrassed he’d so easily released somewhat confidential information. “I heard it from my uncle actually, he’s well positioned in the Alliance, hm, maybe don’t spread that around. Just in case.”
Syal resisted the urge to snort. It was the sort of thing she was used to. Being privy to technically classified state secrets came with being family to high-ranking officials within the government. “Don’t worry, I know how to keep a secret.” She promised. “Still, I doubt we’d be deployed to Rodia. For one It’d take the Third fleet too far from her defense sectors against First Order space.” She certainly hoped they weren’t sent to Rodia. Such a trip would take days and she didn’t feel like settling petty disputes between Rodians and Ragai.
They continued like this as the airlock opened and the line of enlisted personnel marched forward onto the waiting Ralroost, the two pilots following at a distance. Within the bulk of the Bothan assault cruiser a small team of Republic marines were checking identification before ushering the arriving men towards their duty stations to report their arrival. When at last their turn arrived a stocky marine lieutenant with a large bristling mustache stepped forward and eyed the ID cards they thrust towards him. “Ensign Lysa Dunter, and Ensign Tiom Rordan, looks like everything is in order. Alliance Rangers huh? Yes we’ve got a good dozen of you folks onboard already. Sword squadron, was it?”
“VibroSword squadron, yes sir.” Syal answered while stowing the card away. “Any idea where our barracks are? We’d like to drop off our gear.”
“Probably with the rest of Ralroost’s pilots, but says here your orders are to report directly to Deck C, conference room twelve.” The marine informed them, double checking his datapad. “Guess you’ll have to lug it with you.”
Tiom and Syal exchanged glances. Ordered to report immediately not even given time to drop their things. Such swift summons did not bode well. Either their squadron leader had no patience, or the Rangers were being deployed a bit sooner then they expected. Thanking the marine, the two pilots hefted their heavy space bags and began the considerable walk down the kilometer long ship. Hiking briskly in muted trepidation and curiosity.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Much of the tension on the bridge had subsided. After their successful launch the Ralroost joined the loose formation of vessels suspended over Kuat, flanked by her twin escort corvettes. Captain Kre’fey wasted little time in ordering his ship from standby to stand-down, as they waited for the last of their crew to join them off the small transport that was flitting like a butterfly from one cruiser to the next. Reclining in his captain’s chair on the raised dais Traest half listened to his bridge staff go about their work. There wasn’t much to do, and many of the young officers had struck up conversations while they monitored their stations.
“Captain sir,” Traest’s ears perked up as the comm officer spun her chair to address him. “A secure line from the Defender, requesting to speak to you directly. Admiral Nantz sends his regards.”
Curious Traest reached for his personal headset and sat a little straighter in his chair. “The Admiral? Patch him through lieutenant.”
A small holo display appeared on the panel and Traest found himself staring down at the seated image of Admiral Frimus Nantz. Although the flicking blue concealed much, nothing could hide the Admiral’s age. Thin hair Traset knew to be pure white hung from his head, and his cheeks sagged with wrinkles. Still, the venerable admiral had never lost his edge, and possessed the rugged toughness that should belong to a man half his age.
Captain Kre’fey saluted, not dropping the honorific until the admiral lowered his own. “Good afternoon admiral I am happy to report all is well aboard the Ralroost. We, along with Task Force Green will be ready for scheduled departure within the hour.”
“Yes, yes very good…” The admiral seemed distracted, something outside of the hologram’s projection absorbing the majority of his interest. “Afternoon.” He added, almost as an afterthought as he refocused his attention on Traest. “I am making this hail to inform you of some… Visitors, you’ll be receiving soon.”
Traset glanced towards the viewport to where the transport had already detached from the Ralroost’s airlock and was vectoring towards the planet. Surely the admiral wasn’t contacting him over a secure line to tell him about that. No, the Ralroost would be receiving a different guest, one Traest doubted he would much like. The bothan’s eyes narrowed, and a soft growl emanated from his throat. “What sort of visitors?”
Nantz’s held an apologetic tone. “A political representative, sent by the Republic to monitor, advise and, inform on your mission readiness.” He stressed the last part, a hint of warning in his old eyes.
Traset felt his ears involuntarily flatten against his skull, and the fur on the back of his neck bristle in indignation. “Task force green is assigned a training mission, in deep space. We hardly need a bureaucrat breathing down our necks. This is not only unnecessary, but perhaps even an insult. Does the Republic not trust me to run my own ship without a nanny?”
Nantz did not flinch at the aggressive display or harsh words, instead he crossed his arms. “There will be another, personage aboard the representatives shuttle. Officially she is the representative’s assistant. You may wish to have a private meeting with them once they board. You’ll be in hyperspace enroute by then of course.”
Despite his umbrage Traest caught the subtle message. He nodded, willing his fur to settle and his ears to retake their natural upright position. “As you order admiral. Is there anything else sir?”
“No, that will be all. May the force be with you Captain.” With that the secure line winked off and the admiral’s blue visage vanished. A thousand and one questions burned through Traest’s mind as he sat back in his chair, running his claws absently through his beard. He’d been right initially, there was no need for a political advisor on a simple training mission. Due to the Ralroost’s green crew and Traset’s own extended leave from service the ship had been authorized for a deep space live fire training mission along with her twin escorts. A way to dust off the rust and for Traest to get a feel for his new crewmen. However, the unnamed political advisor’s very presence hinted at something larger going on, something highly classified. Moreover, Traest suspected that the second guest, the PA’s so called assistant was the more important of the two. Clapping his hands together Traest summoned his trusted EO to his side. Commander Sarl Jaeger was there in an instant.
“Jaeger, have a secure conference room drawn up and prepped for a confidential meeting. You and me along with two others. Have it guarded, but otherwise keep it close to the chest as possible. A need to know basis.”
“At once sir.”
As Sarl strode briskly off Traest addressed the next matter at hand. “Lieutenant Commander Aref’ja. The bridge is yours until my or Commander Jaeger’s return. In our absence continue with the scheduled departure.” A brown furred bothan turned at the sound of his name. If Sarl Jaeger was Traset’s right hand, Bren Aref’ja was his trusted left. He gave a sharp salute.
“My pleasure sir.”
The tasks delegated as needed Traest rose from his chair and strode off the dais, primping at his uniform as he did. Best to make a good first impression he figured, that would be the best way to garner some much-desired answers from his mysterious new guests.
