“What? But those are good ships.”
“We destroy them and we send their pieces to the New Republic. Along with any escape pods we can catch in our pretty little net.” Noticing the stares coming zher way, Eleodie clarifies: “These ships are running. Look at the battle damage—they’ve taken fire, and recently. And behold those hyperspeed vectors—they’re coming from near to the Unknown. They’re coming from Jakku. We do a little cleanup here for the New Republic, then we send them the bill.”
“But the New Republic is no friend of ours,” Kartessa says.
“No. And they never will be. But maybe this will convince them to look the other way for a while. Maybe this’ll give us an air of legitimacy,” Eleodie says with a sweep of the hand, as if zhe is trying to run zher fingers through a rain of stardust. “Set the whole fleet to attack.”
“They have considerable firepower—”
“Do it.”
“The other fleet captains will want to confer—”
“If they take damage, I will personally repay them. There will be recompense. I am enacting my divine right. Attack.”
Shi Shu nods, hesitantly, then commands the rest of the bridge crew—the demand cascades through them, and a flurry of activity ensues. Targeting computers are spun up. Weapons systems brought online. The tractor beam is spun to readiness. Kartessa looks to Eleodie.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
Eleodie grins like a moon sliver. “No, girl. That’s what makes this so interesting. The present is a pair of dice always about to leave my hand, and I never know if it’ll come up zero or one, win or lose.”
Outside, the void lights up with fire as the attack begins. The Star Destroyers do not have a chance. Soon the New Republic will have a present from his highness, her glory, his wonder, her luminous magnificence—the picaroon! The plunderer! The pirate ruler of Wild Space! The glorious knave, Eleodie Marcavanya!
This is the Observatory.
It is one of many scattered across the galaxy. All of them are laboratories, in a sense, and all of them look beyond the galaxy’s margins in different directions. At the same time, each is also its own unique entity. Palpatine began establishing the Observatories before the start of the Galactic Empire, infusing each with purpose: Some were meant to house ancient Sith artifacts, others designed to host powerful weapon designs (or the weapons themselves), others still meant as prisons harnessing the lifeforces of those captured within for a variety of strange purposes.
This one, the Jakku Observatory, has its own function.
It is part of the Contingency.
From here, the Observatory appears only to be a bunker mostly buried in the mounding sand. If any would approach, the turrets or the sentinel droids would make swift work of them. It has long been protected here, mostly hidden, only recently emerging, at his command. As Gallius Rax and the transport ship enter the shadow of the Plaintive Hand, approaching the Observatory, he sends another command: this one to power down the turbolasers and the sentinel droid defenses. He sends this command through the sentinel that pilots the ship (for all the sentinels are networked together).
Beyond the Observatory, another shape emerges, because as he powers down the defenses, he also programs the landing dome to rise. And rise it does, bubbling up out of the sand, gently turning as the scree and grit slip free from its rounded surface. The metal dome telescopes open.
It reveals a ship gleaming bright in the dust-filtered sun.
“The Imperialis,” Brendol Hux says, leaning forward in the cockpit. Tashu is there with them, and as he sees the ship, he giggles, clapping his hands like a gluttonous child seeing a tray of cakes come out of the oven. Hux has a voice of reverence and confusion as he says, “I…thought the Emperor’s ship was destroyed.”
“It was,” Rax answers. “Stolen by a gambler, then scuttled. But it was one of many.” As he understands it, all of the Observatories play host to a functional replica of the Emperor’s pleasure yacht. The Observatories serve as receptacles for old Sith artifacts, too—and should those artifacts ever need to be moved off-site, the yachts are there for just such a purpose.
Slowly, their transport settles into the well of the valley, easing against the dust-swept stone. The Observatory awaits. From here, it is only a broad door in the side of a dune. The rest lies concealed beneath Jakku.
“I still don’t understand what’s happening,” Hux says.
“This Empire is ended. A new one must begin.” The demesne is clear, the board swept clean, he thinks. A new demesne must be made. “Take your son and the other children. Go to the Imperialis. Prep the ship for takeoff.”
“How can there be a new Empire?” Brendol blusters. “The one we had is gone. We do not number enough to begin anew—”
“There are others,” Tashu says, singsongy.
“Once we had the calculations, we sent another ship ahead.”