Chapitre 25: Limits of trust (I)
One—inhale—and the arms bend at a right angle at the elbows.
Two—exhale—and the upper limbs extend fully.
"The data Lieutenant Tschel requested—repeat, 'one time'—serial numbers…"
Another breath...
"I've heard all this from you before, Lieutenant Colonel," the Grand Admiral's voice remained steady. "Continue."
"They belong to ships that were damaged during the Battle of Endor," he said, bending his arms again. "The hyperdrive was removed," and his arms flexed once more, "from a Karakka-class light cruiser." Seven of these ships were damaged in the battle and sent for repairs—straighten—to a base in the Outer Rim. "Three weeks later, the ISB became suspicious," lowering his body to the deck, "when the starships weren't recommissioned as scheduled," a smooth rise. "It turned out the ships weren't at the shipyard. Their hulls were repaired, but the main hyperdrives were not restored—just like the two dozen Tartans being repaired at the same base." If the Grand Admiral was trying to exhaust him with simple physical exercises, it was futile. Despite his "office" position, the lieutenant colonel was in exceptional physical shape for his age. "However, the ships were handed over to an 'imperial officer' for transport to their duty stations. It was later discovered that this officer had deserted and joined the warlord Zinj, becoming his right hand. Some of the ships, including the Carracks resurfaced in his fleet and were destroyed. We realized that the equipment on these ships had been replaced with identical gear from other types of vessels."
"Someone dismantled the Tartans to make the Carracks more combat-ready?" asked Captain Pellaeon.
"The ISB believes so," Astarion said, once again descending to the deck. "Nine years ago, I couldn't catch the one who stole our ships... but now..."
"Enough exercises, Lieutenant Colonel," the Grand Admiral said.
Astarion sprang up, straightening his jacket.
"So, you're an ISB operative for the fleet," Thrawn mused. "Interesting that they sent you from the Ubiqtorate and not an Imperial Intelligence agent, as we requested. Given that the ISB and Imperial Intelligence are rival agencies often at odds with each other."
Because the Ubiqtorate is a bunch of self-serving snobs who only care about staying in power and lining their pockets, the lieutenant colonel thought, recalling the humiliation of negotiating his way back into the active fleet. The ISB had refused him—during the Imperial Civil War, many operatives were killed, and the survivors were recalled from fleet ships to defend the remaining territories. Maintaining order and countering enemy intelligence is crucial, if not the most critical task. He had to pull strings, use his connections within the Ubiqtorate, and arrange a "business trip" for himself. But anything was better than wasting time on Orinda trying to figure out which bureaucrats had embezzled funds from starship repairs.
"It happened that way, sir," the lieutenant colonel responded crisply.
"I see," Thrawn said dryly, glancing at the commander of his flagship.
"The situation with the Tartans is becoming clearer, Captain Pellaeon. Our doubts about our pirate's credibility have reached their peak. It's likely he's trading stolen starships with us."
Out of old habit, Astarion wanted to cut off the naval officers and resume the interrogation, but he quickly remembered that besides being just a starship commander, this was the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, the Grand Admiral. You couldn't question someone in such a position—there were no individuals left in the Empire with the authority to sanction such actions.
"So, Lieutenant Colonel," the Grand Admiral looked him directly in the eye. "Is finding these ships important to you?"
"Yes, sir," Astarion replied without hesitation. "They belong to the Empire and should be part of its fleet, not fodder for trade. If ordered, I will use all available resources to locate the starship thief, bring him to justice, and return as many of the ships as possible to the Empire and to you."
"Why take such a difficult route?" the Grand Admiral questioned. "The pirate already owes us and will either return most of the starships or face the forces of retaliation. His guilt has just multiplied. Why expend limited resources if there's a high chance the tracking device in the money cases and some of the credit plates will lead us directly to the culprits?"
Indeed—why? If the objective could be achieved more easily…
Will he understand? Probably not, but it's worth a try.
"It's a matter of honor, sir," Astarion decided to take the risk. "I couldn't finish the job nine years ago, and I have to finish it now."
"Who are we indebted to, Lieutenant Colonel?" the Grand Admiral asked. "The Empire will get these ships back if they exist. Who are you trying to prove something to?"
"To myself and the entire galaxy, sir," the operative responded. "To prove that the Empire is not just an empty phrase. Even if not the entire galaxy is loyal to us, the rest should know and understand—we remain a force to be reckoned with."
"That's all," Thrawn said, adding nothing more. His chair swiveled so the blue-skinned alien could observe the outpost, near which three frigate-class starships were drifting.
It seemed the ships whose serial numbers Lieutenant Tschel had checked against the Imperial database belonged to those two Tartans drifting near the NL-1 outpost structure. Like every ISB officer, the Lieutenant Colonel had heard rumors that the Grand Admiral intended to recruit criminal elements to bolster the fleet. And it appeared he had succeeded. Most likely, these new ships were purchased from the same hijacker who had deprived the Empire of an entire division of light starships nine years ago. The irony of it—buying back your own starships...
And at the same time—what a disgrace.
"Should I order Intelligence to hunt down Yazuo Vane?" Pellaeon suggested.
"That won't be necessary," the Grand Admiral assured him. "He was given specific terms—we'll give him a chance to fulfill the agreements. We have other strategic objectives. Follow the previous order."
"Yes, Admiral," the Star Destroyer commander acknowledged, turning to the crew. "Attention! Prepare for the hyperjump!"
The lieutenant colonel, unsure of his next move—having received the serial numbers of the missing ships but no new orders—continued to stand on the bridge, watching as the crew skillfully prepared the Star Destroyer for the journey. A few moments later, the Chimera surged forward, and the surrounding blackness of space, speckled with distant stars, transformed into the white-blue blur of converging light lines—the hyperjump was complete.
As Captain Pellaeon continued to command his crew, summarizing the ship's condition after the jump—a sacred duty for any starship commander—the lieutenant colonel stood behind the Grand Admiral's chair, mesmerized by the lights of the jump. Interestingly, Astarion had interacted with many high-ranking officials and officers of the Galactic Empire, but none would ever risk turning their back on an Imperial Security Service officer. Not because it was impolite—no, the ISB no longer cared about violations of various charters. The ISB was fighting for its very survival.
For the first time in many years, the Imperial Ruling Council had decided to end the feud between Imperial Intelligence and the ISB. Slowly but surely, they were pushing to merge the two into one structure under the Ubiqtorate. Both ISB operatives and intelligence agents resisted, fueled by mutual disdain. In both agencies, only a few seasoned krayt dragons remained, hardened by years of service, dedicated to their work, and indifferent to personal gain and ambition. Sadly, the ISB had far fewer such dedicated employees than the intelligence service. This was why the Ubiqtorate often intervened in ISB affairs, flaunting its power and complete disregard for the ISB.
In their prime, the intelligent ones never turned their backs on ISB agents for entirely different reasons. An ISB operative never missed an opportunity to backstab an enemy. "Strike. By any means necessary. Just strike. Whatever is done will benefit the Empire. Strike me, and you are beyond jurisdiction."
This simple principle was drilled into cadets by academy instructors. Over the years, however, the interpretation of this phrase evolved. While ISB veterans understood that every action must serve the Empire's cause—whatever it may be—the younger operatives, with less than ten years of experience, believed that any action they took was in service to the Empire. There's a vast difference between these two beliefs.
Imperial Intelligence, led by the Isard family, understood this difference, which is why their agents were better prepared for the collapse of the power structure after the Battle of Endor. The ISB, whose role in the decade before Emperor Palpatine's death had been reduced to punitive and intimidating operations, lost much of its influence. When a regime falls, those who served as its enforcers are the first to go under the knife—the Jedi would not allow this truth to be questioned.
This is why it's so painful to witness what's happening. Deep down, Lieutenant Colonel Astarion dreamed that one day the ISB would return to its core responsibilities—hunting down and eliminating internal enemies—not political assassinations and acts of intimidation, as is happening now.
Perhaps this renewal could be brought about by Grand Admiral Thrawn, known for his rational and thoughtful approach. Where Imperial Intelligence scoffed at a non-human and executed his orders begrudgingly, the ISB was willing to follow him, albeit with a healthy dose of caution. Not because of xenophobia, which permeated all branches of the Imperial power structure, but because of the unknown.
"Unknown"—the word that had become synonymous with "fear" for everyone after the Emperor's death. It was this fear that paralyzed the officers at Endor, which led to their panicked retreat from the system. It was this fear that had driven the ISB leadership to purge the agency, eliminating many operatives as "potentially unreliable." The ISB had never experienced such fear before.
Fear had become the foundation of the Imperial Security Bureau's (ISB) power, which had eclipsed even Imperial Intelligence. Now, fear was a tool the ISB was learning to wield, albeit too late and too hesitantly.
But could Thrawn stop the tide? Could he become a beacon of hope for the ISB?
Only time will tell...
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone