Heir to the Empire

Chapter 1

"Captain Pellaeon?" a voice called down the port side crew pit through the hum of conversation. "Message from the sentry ships, sir. They've succeeded in getting the data from the scanning raid. However , they've encountered several New Republic forces that are now in pursuit."

Gilad Pellaeon stared at the endless dark abyss. Beyond the horizon, he could see several New Republic forces out in the distance. The occasional flashes of turret fire worried him. This mission was their main priority. If they failed, it would certainly push back their efforts for nearly another two years. And they couldn't have that, not unless they were willing to risk the New Republic finding out about them.

"Go to yellow alert. Send a message to the sentry ships to maintain course."

"Yes, sir," the officer replied nonchalantly. The young officer, Pellaeon, reminded himself. That was where the problem was. In the glory days, a young man would never be serving as an officer aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer. Let alone, on the Chimaera. But now-He looked down towards the young woman in the engineering monitor. Now, in contrast, this is all they had left. The Chimaera's crew, as well as nearly other warships in the seventh fleet, were being painstakingly run by young inexperienced men and women. He couldn't help but wonder, just how the Empire had gotten in this position. For over two decades the Empire ruled with an iron fist. Worlds trembled before it. There was order, and stability across the galaxy.

Slowly, Pellaeon let his eyes sweep across the bridge, feeling the old anger and hatred twist his stomach. He had heard about the Emperor's Death Star project. The fact that the Emperor ignored the battle station's proven vulnerability and gone ahead with a second Death Star had enforced the suspicion that the Emperor tried to put the Empire's military power under his control. The loss of both the Emperor and Darth Vader, as well as his personal command ship-the Executor, drove what little morale the Empire had left to a sudden halt. Allowing the rebels to achieve even more victories on the battlefield. Which eventually led them here. Out near the forgotten backwater outer-rim systems. Now all they had left was a handful of warships. Hiding and fleeing, like rebels.

However, none of that mattered. Because here was the greatest military mind the galaxy had ever seen. Here, where the Empire will rise from its ashes and return to the galaxy in full glory. Pellaeon smiled-a tight, wolfish smile-as he again looked around the bridge. The Empire was not dead yet, as the arrogantly self-proclaimed New Republic would soon discover.

"I'll be right back," Pellaeon said to the bridge officer, before walking towards the Grand Admiral's command room. It was no secret aboard the Chimaera that since its renovation, the Grand Admiral had been staying a great time in his command room. What he did inside, however, remained a mystery. Pellaeon wondered if it had to be fear that held the Grand Admiral in the room. Especially after the incident on Lothal. But as always, he underestimated the Grand Admiral.

Stepping to the door, Pellaeon straightened his tunic and braced himself. "Captain Pellaeon to see Grand Admiral Thrawn," he announced. The door slid open to reveal a small gray-skinned alien. "Captain Pellaeon," the alien acknowledged in a deep, gravelly, catlike voice. "Meewalh," Pellaeon replied in a sharp tone. Though he had worked with the Noghri before, he still couldn't help but shiver at the sight of them. Meewalh's big dark eyes, protruding jaw, and needle sharp teeth were simply nightmare fuel. The Noghri himself wasn't as built as the Grand Admiral's original Noghri bodyguard-Rukh, who'd perished at the battle of Lothal, but neither the less, he was still a terrifying figure.

"You may enter," Meewalh hissed before stepping out of the way. "Thank you," Pellaeon growled. Straightening his tunic again, before stepping through-

Into a softly lit art museum.