Corellian Orbit, Corellia System, Corellian Sector
Offices of the Sector Commanding Officer, Communications Room Bravo
22 Hours After the Battle of Endor
Ensign Pato didn't usually feel quite this tired so soon into a shift. He was a well-mannered junior officer whom had managed to score a relatively lucrative gig over Corellia. He had heard of some massive deployment of Imperial forces elsewhere, but hadn't taken too much time to consider what it could mean. For the time being, all looked clear and with the Battle of Hoth having ended just a year ago, the so-called Rebellion had seemingly winked out of existence. He let his passive expression morph into a brief note of concern.
When had that spot gotten there? He picked at the remnant of the nutrient paste he'd drunk for his 'breakfast' that morning. It had fallen onto a small portion of his tunic. He gave a quick look around to ensure the Lieutenant couldn't see, considered eating the smudge he'd removed, and instead settled for discarding the flake of tasteless sludge beneath his workstation. He grimaced as he felt an odd bump attached to the underside of the workstation.
Day shift... ugh, Ensign Parrels was disgusting.
He withdrew his hand quickly and gave a look of disgust first at the offended digits, then at the workstation. Brown eyes glared at, no, through the console. He could almost imagine the feeling of strangling the other junior officer who generally sat in his place during the day shift. A sound of footsteps behind the Ensign, the soft movement of sleeves against skin and a soft cough heralded the presence of the watch lieutenant. The Ensign slowly let his gaze move from anger to a sheepish wince.
"Ensign Pato, did you find something?"
The watch lieutenant was not an unattractive woman, but she'd been working the post for some time. Given that Pato really only had her for company on most nights, the flush that ran to his cheeks as he slowly spun around in his console seat was telling. She might as well have been deaf for all the tells he could show, the stern ice-blue gaze from the Lieutenant quickly brought order and discipline rushing back to the Ensign. He flustered, stammered, then recovered and recomposed. All this and more within such a short time, it did nothing to move the stone-cold expression of unamused regard she directed towards the Ensign.
Pato gave a quick shrug and leaned back towards his console. The seat slowly spun and he opened his mouth to begin briefing her.
"No Ma'am, just thought I had something on the console. Like a bump or something, but it's go-"
The galaxy was a vast place, the universe even more so, but Imperial code doctrine was in a whole different league of its own. Three years training only gave most communications watch officers the briefest of immersions into the general dialect used by most cryptographers on Imperial nets. Nevermind the HoloNet at large and the sector and regional variations of that code and the myriad of standard operating procedures which could be contained therein. In all that training, there had been one phrase that had been introduced only once to the Ensign.
Once.
"Regicide at Endor. Initiate Authoritative Contingencies. Await Orders on Net 2516.288."
Regicide?
His voice had stopped, but the heat that caused his lungs and chest to ache informed him of his breath stopping too. He heard a soft gasp behind him and remembered how to breathe as well. His head turned to see the watch lieutenant, eyes wide.
"Ma-am?"
Her blue eyes slid from the screen to the Ensign's own brown eyes. Her lips had parted slightly and the coldness taken from her face by something more... warm? Expressive. That was the word. She looked almost pretty, but Pato hated himself for thinking that. There was a creeping dread, a looming shadow monster in the room that had been born from his console. She looked at the Ensign and nodded.
"Ensign Pato, you have the station. I'm moving to alert system command. Relay all further communiques regarding this to myself and only myself. I'm taking Datapad 224-E. Got it? Standard Encryption, nothing is paying too much attention to us right now, so keep a low profile and no one gets in or out after I leave. That means you're locked in here until I relieve you. Understood?"
The Ensign could only blankly nod and gaze back to the console screen every few moments. There seemed to have come an eerie pause to all traffic on the Imperial HoloNet as well. The usual chatter between Generals and Moffs had suddenly come to a screeching halt and correspondence halted at every satellite station. Quick looks at the Galactic HoloNet had shown some incredibly low-resolution feeds of a massive space battle. Suddenly a bright flash, then the feed would cut out a few moments later.
He still didn't quite understand what it all meant, but he numbly nodded as his brain struggled to understand the meaning of the message. Regicide? That meant a royal had died, right? The Emperor didn't have children, did he? He hoped not, having seen a hologram of the spectre during his graduation ceremony. He was all for order and law and all that jazz, but the man gave him the jeebies and he-
"Ensign Pato, do you understand what I'm telling you?"
Her voice was louder now, the sharp steel of her voice freed him from the web of hazy thoughts which had taken hold and he quickly nodded again, more violently this time.
"Y-yes ma-am! I'll hold down the fort. Nothing in or out 'cept yourself. Datapad 223-"
"-224-E."
"Right! Datapad 224-E. Standard encryption, but nothing more."
"Good. For the- for the Empire, Ensign. I don't even know if that's the right phrasing, but we'll make it through this. The General will know what to do."
With that, the lieutenant spun on her heel, marched towards the door, tapped a few numbers into the wall console and grabbed the datapad a small slot produced. Without any further formalities, she gave a quick look back at Pato, whom had been watching her leave - for more reasons than one- and then exited through the blast doors when they finished opening. Two minutes later, the communications room was silent as a tomb leaving Ensign Pato to idly spin around in his chair.
Offices of the Sector Commanding Officer, Communications Room Bravo
22 Hours After the Battle of Endor
Ensign Pato didn't usually feel quite this tired so soon into a shift. He was a well-mannered junior officer whom had managed to score a relatively lucrative gig over Corellia. He had heard of some massive deployment of Imperial forces elsewhere, but hadn't taken too much time to consider what it could mean. For the time being, all looked clear and with the Battle of Hoth having ended just a year ago, the so-called Rebellion had seemingly winked out of existence. He let his passive expression morph into a brief note of concern.
When had that spot gotten there? He picked at the remnant of the nutrient paste he'd drunk for his 'breakfast' that morning. It had fallen onto a small portion of his tunic. He gave a quick look around to ensure the Lieutenant couldn't see, considered eating the smudge he'd removed, and instead settled for discarding the flake of tasteless sludge beneath his workstation. He grimaced as he felt an odd bump attached to the underside of the workstation.
Day shift... ugh, Ensign Parrels was disgusting.
He withdrew his hand quickly and gave a look of disgust first at the offended digits, then at the workstation. Brown eyes glared at, no, through the console. He could almost imagine the feeling of strangling the other junior officer who generally sat in his place during the day shift. A sound of footsteps behind the Ensign, the soft movement of sleeves against skin and a soft cough heralded the presence of the watch lieutenant. The Ensign slowly let his gaze move from anger to a sheepish wince.
"Ensign Pato, did you find something?"
The watch lieutenant was not an unattractive woman, but she'd been working the post for some time. Given that Pato really only had her for company on most nights, the flush that ran to his cheeks as he slowly spun around in his console seat was telling. She might as well have been deaf for all the tells he could show, the stern ice-blue gaze from the Lieutenant quickly brought order and discipline rushing back to the Ensign. He flustered, stammered, then recovered and recomposed. All this and more within such a short time, it did nothing to move the stone-cold expression of unamused regard she directed towards the Ensign.
Pato gave a quick shrug and leaned back towards his console. The seat slowly spun and he opened his mouth to begin briefing her.
"No Ma'am, just thought I had something on the console. Like a bump or something, but it's go-"
The galaxy was a vast place, the universe even more so, but Imperial code doctrine was in a whole different league of its own. Three years training only gave most communications watch officers the briefest of immersions into the general dialect used by most cryptographers on Imperial nets. Nevermind the HoloNet at large and the sector and regional variations of that code and the myriad of standard operating procedures which could be contained therein. In all that training, there had been one phrase that had been introduced only once to the Ensign.
Once.
"Regicide at Endor. Initiate Authoritative Contingencies. Await Orders on Net 2516.288."
Regicide?
His voice had stopped, but the heat that caused his lungs and chest to ache informed him of his breath stopping too. He heard a soft gasp behind him and remembered how to breathe as well. His head turned to see the watch lieutenant, eyes wide.
"Ma-am?"
Her blue eyes slid from the screen to the Ensign's own brown eyes. Her lips had parted slightly and the coldness taken from her face by something more... warm? Expressive. That was the word. She looked almost pretty, but Pato hated himself for thinking that. There was a creeping dread, a looming shadow monster in the room that had been born from his console. She looked at the Ensign and nodded.
"Ensign Pato, you have the station. I'm moving to alert system command. Relay all further communiques regarding this to myself and only myself. I'm taking Datapad 224-E. Got it? Standard Encryption, nothing is paying too much attention to us right now, so keep a low profile and no one gets in or out after I leave. That means you're locked in here until I relieve you. Understood?"
The Ensign could only blankly nod and gaze back to the console screen every few moments. There seemed to have come an eerie pause to all traffic on the Imperial HoloNet as well. The usual chatter between Generals and Moffs had suddenly come to a screeching halt and correspondence halted at every satellite station. Quick looks at the Galactic HoloNet had shown some incredibly low-resolution feeds of a massive space battle. Suddenly a bright flash, then the feed would cut out a few moments later.
He still didn't quite understand what it all meant, but he numbly nodded as his brain struggled to understand the meaning of the message. Regicide? That meant a royal had died, right? The Emperor didn't have children, did he? He hoped not, having seen a hologram of the spectre during his graduation ceremony. He was all for order and law and all that jazz, but the man gave him the jeebies and he-
"Ensign Pato, do you understand what I'm telling you?"
Her voice was louder now, the sharp steel of her voice freed him from the web of hazy thoughts which had taken hold and he quickly nodded again, more violently this time.
"Y-yes ma-am! I'll hold down the fort. Nothing in or out 'cept yourself. Datapad 223-"
"-224-E."
"Right! Datapad 224-E. Standard encryption, but nothing more."
"Good. For the- for the Empire, Ensign. I don't even know if that's the right phrasing, but we'll make it through this. The General will know what to do."
With that, the lieutenant spun on her heel, marched towards the door, tapped a few numbers into the wall console and grabbed the datapad a small slot produced. Without any further formalities, she gave a quick look back at Pato, whom had been watching her leave - for more reasons than one- and then exited through the blast doors when they finished opening. Two minutes later, the communications room was silent as a tomb leaving Ensign Pato to idly spin around in his chair.
