CHAPTER FIVE
The oceanic world of Mon Cala served as a backdrop for the tense meeting taking place aboard the Dawn of Tranquility. The conference room had a wide window that gave a clear view of the watery planet and the wide, expansive shipyards that surrounded it. The incomplete frames of Star Cruisers could be seen within those shipyards, among other vessels designed by the Mon Calamari. For over forty years, Mon Cala had been a strong ally of the Rebel Alliance and its successor state as the New Republic. A bulk of the Alliance’s fleet was made up of Mon Calamari Star Cruisers and Mon Cala’s own Gial Ackbar had served as the face of that fleet as well as a founding member of the New Republic. Ever since the Alliance’s triumph over the Empire at Endor, Mon Cala had stood as a permanent pillar that held up the New Republic and its current state as the Galactic Alliance.
However, as she stood in the conference room, Lysa Dunter could not help but feel that that pillar was at risk of collapsing.
She stood behind the shoulder of Admiral Cha Niathal, the Mon Calamari commander of the Galactic Alliance Third Fleet. To Niathal’s right sat Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo while on her left was Admiral Nek Bwua’tu of the First Fleet. Across from them sat His Royal Majesty Les-Char, the 85th King of Mon Cala. On the king’s right was Kaln Gahan, the Mon Calamari’s representative in the Galactic Senate, while his Quarren counterpart Vessara Ri sat to Les-Char’s left. Although Lysa was no expert on reading facial expressions on Mon Calamari or Quarren, the tension in the air was thick enough that she did not feel she needed that particular skill.
“What you are proposing,” Senator Gahan was saying, “is perhaps the most preposterous thing I have ever heard.”
“Preposterous as it may sound, it is nonetheless legitimate,” said Admiral Bwua’tu. “The experimental hyperdrive has had very successful runs, with some of the best Duros hyperdrive experts in the galaxy giving it full marks.”
“That may be so,” said Vessara Ri, her mouth tentacles quivering as she spoke. “But that is not cause enough for us to install such a device in our own vessels. We would have to build an entirely new ship from scratch in order to accommodate this new type of hyperdrive. If we installed it on a preexisting model, even a newer one such as the Dawn of Tranquility, it would surely tear it apart before the ship even made the jump to lightspeed.”
Admiral Niathal shook her head. “We have already tested the hyperdrive on some older Star Cruisers, such as the MC80, and have had positive results. I’m sure the MC85 could easily handle it.”
The king and his representatives continued to look doubtful. “I’m afraid that your good word will not be enough to convince the Advisory Council,” said King Les-Char. “Such major modifications to our vessels would require their unanimous approval.”
“You cannot make the decision yourself?” asked Vice Admiral Holdo.
“Not since my father passed legislation that gave the Council full control over the shipyards. It was a move he found to be necessary in order to better help the Rebel Alliance in its war against the Empire, and it is a law that still holds even if there is no longer a war.”
Bwua’tu folded his hands. “Is that a no, then?”
“I will have to bring the matter to the Council and have them deliberate,” Les-Char replied. “However, if I were you, I would not get your hopes up.”
“I understand.” The Bothan admiral bowed his head. “Thank you for your time, Your Highness.”
After terse farewells were exchanged, the king and his representatives filed out of the conference room to be escorted back to their shuttle in the hangar bay. Lysa was left alone with the admirals, all three of whom stood up and gathered the datapads and notes they had used to present the hyperdrive in question to the king.
“That did not go as expected,” Bwua’tu muttered.
“I warned you that Les-Char was a stubborn man,” Niathal sharply retorted. “Ever since Via Eerin was removed from office, he has become more wary of the Alliance than any of his predecessors have been.”
“I am well aware of how tenuous Eerin’s ousting has made our relationship with Mon Cala,” Bwua’tu said curtly. “Regardless, Mon Cala is still a member of the Alliance and if the current Chief of State decides this new hyperdrive will be installed in all the ships currently in our fleet and all those going forward, then it shall be done.”
Niathal’s bulbous eyes narrowed. “And if Mon Cala refuses to comply?”
“Then it will be left with a choice: Secede or be replaced.”
“Replaced by whom? Kuat may comply, but relations with Corellia have not been the best, so you can forget about the Corellian Engineering Corporation.”
Bwua’tu waved a dismissive hand. “That is a matter that the Chief of State and I will discuss alone. All you have to worry about is deciding where your true loyalties lie.”
Niathal bristled at this. “I beg your pardon?”
“If Mon Cala does choose to leave the Alliance, will you continue to stand with us or will you instead stand with your people?”
The Mon Calamari admiral’s webbed hands rolled up into fists. “The Alliance is my people.”
“Then we have nothing more to discuss.”
With that, Bwua’tu gave a curt nod to the other two admirals before making his own departure from the room. As soon as he was gone, Niathal collapsed into her seat and pounded the table, uttering a curse that was unique to her people’s tongue.
“I hate that blasted fool,” she growled.
“I must say, that came out of nowhere,” said Vice Admiral Holdo. Unlike most admirals that Lysa had met, Holdo forewent traditional uniforms in favor of a maroon dress that made her look more like a politician than a military officer. This, combined with her vibrant magenta hair, made Holdo stand out from her fellow officers. Lysa knew that it irritated Admiral Niathal, who was much more conservative when it came to military dress, but the Mon Calamari had too much of a begrudging respect for Holdo to tell her how to present herself. Although Lysa had never met the older woman prior to her assignment to the Dawn of Tranquility, she had heard stories about Holdo, among them her victory in the Battle of Chyron Belt.
“Ever since he was made Supreme Commander, he has let the power get to his head,” Niathal muttered. “He’ll tell you that he’s been humbled by experience and that he keeps around busts of Admiral Ackbar to remind himself to not let pride get the best of him… but after getting his promotion, he has slipped back into his old arrogant ways.”
“Bothans do tend to be prideful individuals,” Holdo murmured. She glanced between Niathal and Lysa before saying, “If it is all the same to you, I’ll be on the bridge. I’m sure the captain will want to know how the meeting went.”
Niathal waved a hand. “Fine. You’re dismissed.”
The pink-haired admiral departed from the room, which left just Lysa and a distraught Niathal remaining. Lysa found herself shifting uncomfortably, tapping her foot nervously on the deck. She knew it irritated the admiral but it was a nervous tic that she couldn’t really help. She forced herself to stop when Niathal let out a long sigh.
“You’re probably wondering why I brought you to this meeting.”
Lysa bit her lip. She had honestly been wondering just that; as an ensign, she was not only the lowest-ranked officer in the room but one of the lowest-ranked officers on the entire ship. In her two years of service, she had found it difficult to rise through the ranks; no doubt she was being held back because of the man she was related to, a fact that could not be avoided or ignored no matter how many times she changed her name. While it was more or less an open secret to everyone that she was in fact Syal Antilles, daughter of Wedge Antilles, she had done everything she could to separate herself from her father’s legacy and stand on her own as an individual. Even so, she wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with her unexplained presence at this important meeting with the King of Mon Cala.
Not waiting for a response, Niathal continued. “I brought you here because I want to make sure I’m not going crazy.”
Lysa blinked in surprise. That had not been what she was expecting. “What do you mean by that, sir?” she asked, speaking for the first time since the start of the meeting.
“It feels like everything is falling apart at the seams,” Niathal said. “Ever since Via Eerin was removed as Chief of State, the Alliance has been on a steep decline. I would have thought that, after that Darth Taral person was defeated at Mandalore, things would have gone back to normal. But Luewet Wuul is still Chief of State, corruption is still rampant in the Senate, people like Senator Treen are still in charge… it makes me wonder if Taral was ever the true threat in the first place.”
Lysa processed the words she was hearing, unsure on how to feel about them. “Have you thought about…” She paused, being careful in how she phrased this. “Have you considered walking the same path General Hawk and others have walked?”
Niathal eyed her carefully. “You mean desert?” The amphibious admiral snorted. “As I’ve already told Bwua’tu, my loyalty lies with the Alliance. No matter how much I fear for its future, I refuse to abandon my people.”
“But if they stop being your people,” Lysa said, unable to stop herself, “then would you truly be abandoning them?”
She immediately expected Niathal to give her a sharp reprimand for even suggesting such a prospect. Instead, the Mon Calamari woman looked away from her and gazed out the viewport, staring at her oceanic homeworld. Several minutes passed in silence, leaving Lysa to wonder if the admiral was even going to answer her.
Eventually, Niathal let out a heavy sigh as she rose from her seat, never taking her eyes off the viewport.
“I suggest you join Admiral Holdo on the bridge,” she said quietly. “And don’t speak of our conversation to anyone.”
Lysa snapped off a quick salute. “Yes, sir,” she said before turning sharply on her heel and striding out of the room, leaving Admiral Niathal to herself.
* * *
Standing in the hangar bay of a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser brought back many nostalgic memories for General Tycho Celchu. He could not remember the last time he had donned his flight uniform or sat in an X-wing starfighter, though it somehow felt like both a long time ago and not that long at all. Many of the starfighters sitting in the Dawn of Tranquility’s hangar were much the same as the ones from his days as his pilot, albeit more updated for modern times. The T-65 X-wings had been phased out in favor of the faster T-70s; the RZ-1 A-wings he had flown in Green Squadron had been replaced by the RZ-2s; even the B-wings and Y-wings had received upgrades or been outright replaced. As paradoxical as it was to say, everything felt both old and new at the same time. It was as if everything had changed, yet nothing had changed.
As he slowly made his way through the hangar, glancing from ship to ship, he noticed a cluster of pilots in orange jumpsuits gathered near the X-wing fighters. Ranging in both species and age — a few of them couldn’t be older than eighteen — they were glancing furtively in his direction and murmuring hushed words to one another. Smiling to himself, Tycho turned and began to make his way over to them, which immediately caused them to shut up and stand attention, snapping off sharp salutes.
“At ease, pilots,” he said casually. “I’m not here for an inspection or anything. Just stretching my legs.”
“Sir, it’s an honor to meet you, sir,” said a young, bright-eyed man with curly dark hair. “I’ve heard so many stories about you and the other Rogues and—”
“Settle down, Five,” snapped a grizzled Latero. The short, four-armed being stepped up to Tycho and saluted with one of his upper hands while extending one of his lower ones. “Sorry about that, General. Kid tends to talk before he thinks. Captain Tyreez Vitrus, at your service. I’m the commander of Rogue Squadron.”
“Well met, captain,” Tycho said as he shook the Latero’s hand. “And please, just call me Tycho. We’re all Rogues here, aren’t we?”
Tyreez chuckled. “I suppose that much is true. So, what brings you here to Mon Cala?”
“I’m here as part of Admiral Bwua’tu’s detail. He’s currently at the meeting with King Les-Char.”
“I see, I see.” A cloud fell over the Latero’s furry face, though it disappeared before Tycho had a chance to comment on it. “You’re not at the meeting yourself?”
Tycho shook his head. “He had me meet with some of the chiefs at the Shipyards instead, just to see how things were running. To be honest, I’m not really sure why he brought me all the way out here.”
“I’m sure he has his reasons.” Tyreez fell silent for a moment, chewing on his lip. “How are things back on Coruscant? Been a while since any of us have been back there.”
“Pretty much just business as usual,” Tycho replied. “The Senate is still a mess, of course. Then again, when is it isn’t?”
“Right.” Tyreez slowly nodded, his face drooping into a frown. His eyes darted around the hangar, as if he was looking out for someone. Then, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper, the Latero said, “Listen, be careful out there, all right?”
Tycho gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Look, things haven’t been normal around here. Or anywhere, for that matter. Ever since Mandalore, there have been rumors about this Cabal and—”
“I’ve heard it as well,” Tycho interjected curtly. “Trust me, there is nothing to those rumors. It’s all just fear-mongering from the HoloNet.”
Tyreez looked as if he was about to object but seemed to think better of it. Instead, the Latero said, “Look, just be on the lookout, okay? Even if the Cabal stuff is bogus, there might still be people out there who will stupid enough to try something funny… and if you’re not careful, they might even succeed.”
“I can look after myself,” Tycho said, before lightly adding, “I do appreciate your concern, captain.”
“Hey, we Rogues have to look out for one another, yeah?” Tyreez chuckled, though Tycho wondered if it was just for show. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get these kids to the training simulators. You take care, General.”
“You as well, captain.”
After a quick exchange of salutes, Tycho turned and walked away from the Rogues to resume his trip through the hangar bay. This time, however, he no longer thought about the different types of ships that populated the hangar, instead thinking only of Tyreez’s words as they ran through his mind.
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