There are many sounds on a Star Destroyer. The durasteel hull carries noise wherever the insulation runs thin. Turbolasers rattle. TIE engines scream at the hanger. So many work stations have chatter and traffic. From the captains quarters, the only thing which comes through is the hum of the reactor and engines. The tone of the engines and reactor shift slightly when the hyperdrive is engaged. With enough insulation it could be removed but the sound is intentional. A captain can always know when the ship drops out of hyper speed.

Many officers feel it is somewhat redundant because the most obvious cue of going into or out of hyperspace is the small lurch the ship makes. Even on a ship the size of a Star Destroyer there’s a small and brief feeling of the momentum of the ship shifting between real space and light speed.

The small shifts are rarely an issue. Outside of an emergency stop they are far from enough to make anyone lose their footing. They go by mostly unnoticed due to their frequency. Hyperspace travel can only go in a straight line but hyperlanes have many curves. Every so often a ship will stop at a hyperpoint, line up the next leg of the hyperlane, and resume lightspeed. Travelled lanes have buoys at each interval to feed the navigation information along. A good nav computer can do it all automatically without the pilot intervening. Often it’s a few hours between hyperpoints.

Pasaana is off the path of the main hyperlanes, which is the primary reason for it’s relative poverty. No hyperpoints. No buoys. The jumps have to be manually charted and navigated. It’s a nuisance under normal circumstances but an accurate star chart makes it quick work. Because of the sheer size of the galaxy, it’s impossible to carry a detailed map of the thirty thousand million stars in the Empire. The normal custom in the Imperial Navy is to download star charts of the relevant areas of operation on arrival. Doomhammer had maps of the Kashyyyk sector and was going to upload everything they’d need about the Bothawui sector when they arrived there. They never made it to Bothawui and never received the detailed star charts.

The common practice in this instance is ‘stutter jumping’. Every jump needed a sensor sweep along with a manual navigation charting. The jumps end up much shorter. If the risk is to bounce of a star by flying to close, best to take a good look at all the stars in your neighbourhood. The length of each jump becomes shorter, the number of jumps grows, and the overall travel speed drops. Most important to Captain Gandala, the number of those small little nudges entry and exit of hyperspeed grows drastically.

It’s possible to speed up the process of stutter jumping. The biggest obstacle is the time spent plotting the next jump. The majority of fuel consumed in hyperspace travel is on entry and exit. Making the small individual jumps as long as possible conserves fuel so it’s worth taking two or three minutes to get a full read off the sensors. But the Imperial Navy is facing a crisis and Star Destroyers have a large supply so fuel efficiency be damned. Even shorter jumps and even shorter sensor reads to keep the ship moving. The speed of stutter jumping can double but, even more importantly for Captain Gandala, those little nudges from the hyperdrive change from intervals of ten or twenty minutes down to three or four.

For the vast majority of sailors, these nudges mean next to nothing, even if they are frequent. For a smaller number, the frequency of stutter jumping can make them a bit uneasy. Captain Gandala is part of the even smaller few who can handle normal travel fine but nearly fall apart with rapid stutter jumping.

So Captain Pell Gandala was laying in a dark room in her quarters and trying not to think about how the room was spinning. She was jumpsick. She utterly hated being jumpsick. But there was no way around it. Doomhammer needed to make rendezvous and needed to keep pace to be there on time. The trip to Pasaana wasn’t as bad as she expected but now, on the way back, it had caught up to her with interest.

She’d had a light wall installed in her quarters to simulate a sunrise from back home on Naboo. She preferred waking up to that over the noise of an alarm. Alarms were for action stations. Beyond the foot of her bed, the very bottom of the wall began to light up. Captain Gandala closed her eyes a little more tightly and sighed. The day was here and there was likely another 8 hours of stutter jumping left. Thankfully it was virtually impossible to be intercepted or tracked while stutter jumping through the middle of nowhere, especially this frequently, so the odds of her being urgently needed were nearly zero.

The artificial sunrise was halfway up the wall. Gandala sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. The light wall gave off the heat of sunlight and she enjoyed feeling the warmth. After a moment her head started reeling again. She bent over forward and found a bucket very conveniently near her feet.

After she finished throw up she realized that she hadn’t put the bucket there. Next she noticed the glass of milk, plate of toast, and small tray of pills on her bedside table. Chief Tonlin, the steward to the command staff, clearly had paid her a visit during one a the moments she was asleep. Very few people had access to a captains quarters, and far fewer would dare enter when a captain was asleep, but Chief Tonlin had been with Gandala for nearly a decade. He was talented and trusted. More than that, he was discreet. He would never ask about jumpsickness and force the embarrassment upon her of admitting to it. He would just notice the travel schedule and leave what she needed.

Chief Tonlin and Captain Gandala had met nearly ten years ago. Both of them had much lower ranks at the time. It was her first posting in a command staff role. The chief saw her potential and tied his cart to her bantha early. She would ascend the ranks and he would follow her the whole way, gaining staff and prestige and leaving milk toast for her whenever necessary. Chief Tonlin was possibly the person most confident of Gandala’s career trajectory. She’d make admiral and be entitled to a household staff. He’d have all the perks needed to secure a stable future to himself and acquire enough assistants to pursue his own culinary passions and experiments.

After some milk, toast, and medication, Gandala stood up. The light wall had a full sunrise. Opposite the light wall, near the head of the bed, was a family portrait. She’d commissioned an artist to use real paint and canvas rather than a just make a hologram. She hadn’t known at the time it would be one of the last times all five of them together.

It was a year after Yavin. The turmoil had started but hadn’t peaked. She’d just been given command of Doomhammer. Pell laughed at the smile she had in the portrait. Very proud of herself. One of her biggest goals accomplished and the next was on the way.

Her husband was beside her in his physicians attire. Garm had recently been appointed as chief surgeon in one of the best hospitals outside of Theed. The move out of the capital would upset the kids but that was the next stage on their path. Months after this he would resign his position and defect to the rebellion. Her own rise to the admiralty would be all but dead because of his selfishness. Her career may have survived but he’d tried to convince her to come with him. She was on Doomhammer in these same quarters when his call came through. Her fool husband hadn’t realized that ISB was listening and were barging through her door within minutes. They were gentle with her but he ended up in a firefight when the came for him in Naboo. The last moment they spoke was her begging him to shut up as each of them could hear pounding at the doors.

In front of them in the portrait were the twins, Palo and Vrad. Vrad was killed when ISB came for Garm. He’d just gotten his speeder license. A few days before he’d called to introduce Pell to his new girlfriend. He was close to done secondary school and planning to go into medicine to follow his father. But Garm’s recklessness ended that. If he could have surrendered instead of resisting they may not have shot up the place. Pell maybe would still have Vrad. But Garm was seduced by the rebellion and the rebels had stolen her husband and her son.

Palo took it hard. The whole portrait was his artwork. Painting seemed archaic but he adored it and had talent. After Vrad was dead he lost all hope. Now he lived the life of a starving artist in Theed. Pell tried to send him money. Her captain’s salary was more than enough to accommodate a wayward son. Palo couldn’t hold himself together and blamed his mother instead of his father. Like always, she’d travel to Naboo check in on him during her next shore leave. With the current conflicts though that might be quite a while.

Last was Padme, her pride and joy. During the baby boom following the Clone Wars nearly half the girls on Naboo were named after the famous senator. Pell had admired Padme Amidala herself and couldn’t believe that the Jedi had murdered her. She’d served under General Skywalker and was stunned that he would kill a senator. The betrayal had shocked all of them. But all of the Jedi betrayed the Republic and that’s why Emperor Palpatine had to save the galaxy from itself. Pell named her daughter after the memory of her childhood hero.

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In the portrait, Padme Gandala had just finished naval academy. Her uniform was amazing and Pell could see so much of herself in her daughter. Padme would ship out not long after. Pell’s luck was that Padme was eventually assigned to 7th Fleet and they would have a chance to catch up when the fleet rallied at Felucia. Having Padme nearby, at least in the same fleet, would put her at more at ease.

The portrait was her morning meditation. A reminder of accomplishments and frustrations.

Maybe Chief Tonlin’s faith in Captain Gandala wasn’t fully misplaced. She could still make admiral. As an admiral she could pull the strings to get Padme assigned nearby. Maybe she would get a shore posting and mingle in the court of a Moff. A shore posting would put her in one place long enough to possibly marry again. She could pair up with a socialite and Chief Tonlin would make the hospitality to win over the right people. Coruscant could still happen. Gallant service in the present war might pull it all together.

The meditation was interrupted by another nudge from the hyperdrive. Captain Gandala made another trip to the bucket.

The inner sanctum of the captain’s quarters were a bedroom, bathroom, and two private studies. Captains would decorate them however they pleased, which is how Pell Gandala came to the light wall and the portrait. This was the most private area that was rarely frequented even by guests. The outer part of the captain’s quarters were as much business as residence. An office, a lounge for hosting guests, an a large boardroom for briefings or meals, depending on the circumstance. Another pair of rooms were flexible for the whims of captain.

When Captain Gandala had cleaned up and let the medication take a limited effect, she passed through the door into the outer section of the quarters. The stormtrooper at the door saluted quickly and her leery response felt more like an off balance wave than a proper salute. Chief Tonlin was already there and had been waiting for her with his ever unyielding patience.

“Good Morning, Captain.” He said. Gandala’s pale and strained salute gave him everything he needed to know about her condition. Detailed updates could wait. He paused to make eye contact and try to express some empathy.

“Everything set, Captain.” He said slowly. “Bastra’s here. Others arriving shortly.”

Captain Gandala nodded and gave out a long exhale. Breakfast with the command staff was her custom and, in the mix of everything going on between the Baron and reassignment, she hadn’t gotten the group together properly yet. It was an additional frustration to be jumpsick when they did gather for the first time.

As she walked into the board room, a pair of stormtroopers and a pair of attendants all came to attention. Agent Bastra stood from the table and nodded an acknowledgement. True to form, ISB agents tried to avoid giving a captain any sense that they were actually in charge. The place settings were more than was necessary. This wasn’t a banquet but that wouldn’t stop the Chief from trying to make an impression.

Tonlin had chosen the decor when Gandala has been given command of Doomhammer. Rich woods with light colours highlighting them. He tried to get away from the dull durasteel grey that seemed everywhere on Star Destroyers. Paintings of landscapes from Naboo and a selection of the most important buildings on Coruscant. Palo loved the architectural style of “Imperial Brutalism” that had overtaken the capital but never made it to Naboo. The table in the centre was large enough to seat ten comfortably. It was one of the more elegant pieces with various carvings. The place settings all had a space for briefing notes and agenda.

Gandala came to her spot at the head of the table and sat down. Coffee and milk showed up in front of her almost instantly. The blue foam on top of her coffee was more blue than normal. Chief Tonlin had clearly changed the ratio of coffee to foam for the sake of her stomach. Moments later Commander Ghent entered with the three watch leaders, Lieutenant Commanders Sarlin, Kyral, and Corso. With a round of salutes they found places at the table. Flight Major Tafo wasn’t long behind them.

Ghent only needed one look at Gandala to know the shape she was in. He’d be leading the briefings and updates for the most part. Gandala normally preferred for him to manage meetings anyway but today especially, he’d be functionally in charge.

Last to come in was a stormtrooper with beige armour markings and beige pauldron on the left shoulder. The stormtroopers in the great room put a little extra into their salutes. Pulling off her helmet, the beige marked trooper revealed herself to be Colonel Vucora. She handed her helmet and blaster to one of the attendants nearby and they rushed off with them. Everyone looked more than a little surprised to see the Colonel wearing armour, especially at a semi-formal occasion with the Captain.

“I know.” Vucora said. “I know. Regulation with alert status one is that all troopers must be combat-ready whenever away from barracks. General officers are exempted and I was reminded that I’m no longer a general officer.”

“Glad it still fits.” Commander Ghent said. “I’ve seen some fat generals and they’d look ridiculous in armour.”

The collected officers gave some stifled laughs. Kyral, Tafo, and Vucora, all new to Doomhammer, took the cue from the commander about the tone of these command breakfasts.

Lieutenant Commander Corso went for his chair. “I spoke with Lieutenant Fenik when my watch was ending, Ma’am. He’s getting the fleet communications updates. It’s larger than usual this morning so he’ll be delayed.”

“Will we be waiting for him?” Vucora asked. The rest of the officers looked at her with some confusion.

“He won’t mind.” Ghent replied.

As they sat down, attendants were moving in and out to get platters of food onto the table. Meats, cheeses, fruits, and pastries soon filled up most of the space. Agent Bastra smiled when her coffee showed up. Latte with green instead of blue and extra sweetener. She had been on Doomhammer for the past two years and had gotten accustomed to Chief Tonlin’s excesses. She didn’t remember how or when Tonlin worked out how she liked her coffee but he’d figured it out and it was available at any hour, immediately, and in any quantity. It was enough to make a Moff blush.

Chief Tonlin himself put a plate down in front of Captain Gandala. A great selection of fruit and meat with a single piece of toast at the bottom of the plate nearest her. Something her stomach could handle and something nicer things for her to play with and obscure her illness. Tonlin had an excellent grasp of the dynamics of appearance and reality in the Imperial Navy.

With all seated and the plates ready, everyone reached for their water glass. A proper navy meal, even a morning meal with limited formality, always included a toast to the emperor. Everyone raised a glass and simultaneously realized the oddity of toasting to the health of the deceased emperor. The pause was long.

“For the Emperor..” Gandala said. “That he may be avenged.”

All nodded and drank.

Everything proceeded fairly smoothly from there. Ghent took the initiative to run through the business of the day. Recapping the Pasaana operation. Accounting for losses. Maintenance issues. Disciplinary issues. Gandala was letting it all pass by. The only part of command that was essential right now was looking strong enough to do it. She’d never told Ghent about jumpsickness but he’d figured it out and was reliable to cover for her.

Lieutenant Fenik arrived and handed out some printouts of fleet updates. After that he moved to the edge of the room and stood at attention. By custom and regulation, a Lieutenant did not rank highly enough to eat at the captain’s table. A chair and place setting in front of him sat unused.

Chief Tonlin looked at Gandala and motioned his head slightly towards Lt. Fenik. Gandala gave a slight nod. Tonlin looked across to an attendant and nodded at him. Coffee arrived for Lt. Fenik near instantly. One cream, no sugar.

The conversation floated around fuel supplies of the TIE wing and pilot readiness. The nine hour fighter patrol at Pasaana had gone fine but the pilots were completely bagged and needed a days break from the rotation.

A chirp came from Lt. Fenik’s communicator and after checking it he got Captain Gandala’s attention.

“Ma’am, 7th Fleet HQ is on the comm. Admiral Antur himself is live for you.”

“I’ll take it here” Gandala replied.

The lights in the room dimmed and a blue hologram of the admiral showed up on the table.

“Captain Gandala,” he began, “I wish I had better news for you. The cruiser ‘Triumph’ was ambushed by rebel forces and lost. Evidence points to an inside defector who sabotaged their defences. Your daughter was not among the escape pods we recovered. I’m sorry, Captain. I know you were proud of her.”

Gandala sat in near total shock at the news.

“You can finish what she started.” Admiral Antur continued. “The current priority from fleet HQ is Operation Cinder. The details of Cinder are classified. After Cinder is underway we’ll have resources free. Seventh fleet is skipping the rally at Felucia to work through brush fires in our sector. Cinder is expected to take fifteen days and then we’ll gather in force to the next objective, Mon Cala. Mon Calamari ships were present with the Rebel fleet at Endor. Too many of them. It’s not isolated actions but the Mon Calamari are openly siding with the rebellion. They must be chastised. We would need surprise to be effective and there are too many informants and observers to sneak a fleet of Star Destroyers in on them.”

“This is where your daughter comes in” he continued, “Her cruiser was equipped with advanced astrogation equipment. They were going to scout a new hyperlane from Byss to Mon Cala. A new route completely unguarded and unwatched. Perfect stage for a surprise assault. Triumph was ambushed by an MC80 cruiser we’ve designated Mynock. Mynock is patrolling that area and we need them gone to get the fleet through discreetly.”

“We’ve requisitioned a fresh set of astrogation probes. They were in transit aboard a modified gozanti assault carrier, the Lone Wolf. I have them set to rendezvous with you near the operation sector.”

“There’s a convoy along your way lead by the fighter carrier Firespray. Meet up with them and transfer the bacta over to the convoy. Then double time to Byss. Save Lone Wolf before they’re found. Destroy Mynock and avenge your daughter. Then we’ll gather all of Seventh fleet to avenge Endor by crushing Mon Cala. Good hunting, Captain. Antur out.”

The image of the admiral disappeared and the lights came back on fully. Gandala was still processing the shock. Everyone looked to her. She reached for the water glass from the toast to the emperor. All of them caught on and did the same.

“For the Emperor..” She said, “and for Padme. May we be the ones to avenge them.”