CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
--The Revenger--
Giganis found it to be quiet.
Too quiet.
Just minutes ago, the ship had been filled with the screams of agony from his former teammates. Now there was nothing but silence. As much as he resented them, he gave them far more credit than to die from torture that easily.
Striding quickly, he made his way to the chamber in which the prisoners were being held. He stopped at the door and planted an ear to it, listening for... anything, really. Pained moans, hushed voices; anything to tell him they were still alive. But he heard nothing. All was silent. Steeling himself, he opened the door....
And was immediately pulled in by two very large, very hairy arms.
As the door was closed behind him, Giganis felt a blaster press against his head and heard a gruff voice hiss in his ear.
"Scream and your head becomes Glorian paste," Han Solo growled.
Giganis met the Corellian's eyes with indignation but did not make a noise. Still in Chewbacca's grip, he craned his head to see the other Wraiths standing nearby, bruised and tired but otherwise fit. He noticed that Heol Girdun, another prisoner, was not standing among them but could figure why. He also saw the Glorian guard he had left in place laying in a crumpled, motionless heap on the floor.
Returning his attention to Han, Giganis said, "How did you get free? The torture chairs were supposed to stay on permanently. Unless one of you is inexplicably immune to intense electrical shocks...."
"The power cut out," said Trey Courser. When Giganis gave him a look, he shrugged. "No joke. Everything went out: the chairs, the lights... our Wookiee friends certainly didn't waste any time in breaking free."
"But... how?" Giganis murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "What could have...?"
Then it dawned on him. Everything pieced itself together in his head: why they were at Bastion, why the General had been so intent to retrieve him and the Wraiths before getting things started, why they had come alone with only one warship.
"Benag, you idiot," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Han asked.
"We have to get to the bridge," Giganis said with urgency. "We have to--"
"Whoa, slow down there, pal," Sharr Latt said. "What are you going on about?"
"There's not much time to explain. We must--"
"What do you mean 'we?' Why should we trust you after everything you've done?"
Giganis sighed, realizing that this would require a lot more effort. "Look, I don't expect you to stop hating me--"
"Good, because we won't," Trey said bitterly.
"...But if we don't get to the bridge now, we're all going to die. General Benag is about to use a weapon that wasn't made for this model of ship and it could very well backfire on him, destroying us all."
"And you're telling us this now... why?" Han asked.
"Benag must be charging up the weapon now. Because it requires so much power, it likely caused the power here to short out, given it was the one with the highest voltage."
"How soon before the weapon gets used?" Sharr asked.
"Impossible to say," Giganis replied. "But since we're closer to the bridge here than to the hangar, we'd have a better chance at stopping Benag than we would trying to flee."
Han and the Wraiths all exchanged looks, silently debating whether or not to trust him. Finally, Han nudged Giganis with the stolen Glorian blaster. "All right then. Take us to the armory so we can gear up, then to the bridge."
"Ah, I think it would be easier and perhaps wiser to get there with me escorting you as my prisoners--"
"No, no, no," Han said, grinning mirthlessly. "I remember doing that once. It didn't pan out so well. No, we're going to do thing my way and you're going to do exactly what I tell you."
Giganis glowered at him. "You're playing with fire here, Solo."
Chewbacca made what sounded like an assenting growl.
"Hey." Han smirked at the both of them. "It's me."
--Bastion--
"Evacuation? Are you mad?"
All eight members of the Moff Council sat in their meeting chamber, guarded by Imperial Knights on either side of the room. Moff Niera Vallem was standing at her end of the circular table, hazel eyes glaring directly at the outspoken Drikl Lecersen, who returned the look.
"The question, Drikl, is if you are," Vallem retorted. "The last time we brushed the Glorians off as a meager threat, a devastating war broke out. Are you really going to take that chance again, at such a crucial moment in Imperial history?"
"Their empire is no more," Lecersen said assuredly. "What can one warship do against a fleet like ours? You overestimate their chances, Niera."
"Underestimation is a more damaging danger than overestimation," said Ranulf Vorsen, seated next to Vallem. "It is what cost us both Death Stars and the Empire itself. Do you really want to risk losing everything else now?"
Before Lecersen had a chance to fire back, the door to the chamber unexpectedly slid open, allowing in the red-haired General Hux. Lecersen immediately stood from his seat, eyes blazing at the officer.
"There had better be a good reason for this interruption, general," the white-haired Moff snarled.
"I do apologize for my unannounced arrival," Hux said evenly. "But my friend here was rather insistent on seeing you."
Lecersen's brow furrowed. "'Friend?' What friend? What are you talking about?"
The general said nothing and instead stepped aside. From behind him emerged a tall, humanoid figure dressed in all black, their face concealed by a mask and covered by a hood. While he did not know the visitor's identity, Lecersen knew what they were.
"One of Taral's Sith," he breathed. "What is it the Dark Lord wishes now?"
"I am not one of Taral's minions nor am I here on his part," the masked man said.
"Then whose?" snapped Moff Sarreti. "And why would we even listen to what you or who you represent have to say?"
The man said nothing. Instead, he nodded to Hux, who promptly left the room. As the door hissed shut behind him, the dark warrior unhooked a lightsaber hilt from his belt and ignited its sizzling red blade. In response, the eight Imperial Knights in the room activated their own sabers.
Lecersen glowered at the intruder. "You are making a grievous mistake. The Moff Council is needed if Taral's plan to succeed."
"Yes, but Taral's plan is flawed. Naive. If he thinks a treaty between you and the Alliance is all the foundation he needs for the First Order, then he is wrong. You will undoubtedly steer it back in the direction your Empire was already headed in. You are the weak link. You are the tumor that must be removed."
Vorsen sneered at him. "You and what army? You expect us to believe you have gotten the entirety of Taral's forces to side with you?"
"As if that would require any effort," the dark man said snidely. "I don't believe I've met anyone in the galaxy who's ever spoken highly of the Moffs who sloppily run the remnants of the once-glorious Galactic Empire. Believe me when I say this...."
As one, the eight Imperial Knights all pointed their blades at the equally-numbered Moffs.
"No one will even notice your absence."
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