A New Alderaan (Prelude Pt I)
A single Mon Cal star yards 80B battle cruiser slipped from hyperspace at the edge of the planetary system. It was the flagship of the New Republic's 3rd Fleet, the
Appenza- so named after the legendary snow-capped mountain summit in whose silhouette the capital city of Alderaan, Aldera had sat. In the distance against the back drop of space lay the graveyard of Alderaan, a silent macabre testament in it's most exclamatory form of the evil men do. The violent swirling mass of dark rocky and molten mineral matter stood in stark contrast to its previous form. The rings took rough shape almost immediately from the outcast wave of smaller particles in the blast while the larger planetoid size chunks remain closer to the shattered core. As a result most of the little remaining light organic material was found in the rings. Studies have even been able to pinpoint human genetic material in some cases.
Calgan Verose, surviving son of Alderaan, aging Alliance veteran and newly promoted Admiral of the 3rd Fleet sat alone in his darkened quarters at his desk where a lamp illuminated only his work space. His floor to ceiling wall to wall view port was closed and despite it being apparent when the ship left hyperspace and entered sublight space, a notice from the bridge came through over his personal quarter comm as he'd requested,
"Admiral, we've arrived at the Alderaan Gra... we've arrived at Alderaan as ordered sir," a young officers voice with a Calamari accent stated with an awkward pause and strained rewording.
"Thank you Commander, please inform the Brig Officer to have the detainee escorted to my quarters," Calgan acknowledged.
He returned to his desk work for the next several minutes until his requested audience had arrived, their presence announced by an ornate mechanical whistling bird perched above the entry door to his quarters. It differed from most private quarters visitor notice systems on the ship in that he'd had it specially installed as opposed to the usual beeping wall panel.
"Open," he answered to the mechanical birds song.
The door slid open as the lights brightened, a young man in a stripped down set of SpecForce officers garments and wrists in binders stood outside with armed guards at either side.
"Please wait outside and send him in guys," Calgan asked.
The guards stepped off to the side as the young detained officer stepped in and the door slid shut behind him. As Calgan stood from his desk the young officer straightened his posture. The Admiral held a piece of paper in one hand in which the young officer took obvious notice. It bore the hallmark formatting of official military documents.
Calgan removed the binders with a quick combination of the circular buttons on it and handed the young officer the paper without meeting his gaze before turning to place the restraints on his desk. The formerly bound guest massaged his wrists briefly in a probable display of dramatics before glancing at the document and referencing the doorbell,
"Still have that thing huh?," he rhetorically inquired.
The older Admiral ignored his statement and started the conversation on his own note,
"It was wrong of me to drag you in to this.. She wouldnt have wanted that. When we lost her, I lost sight of what was best for you. The last promise I made to her was that I'd bring you home, it occurred to me some time ago I never fulfilled that promise,"
With his last word he keyed a small button on the wall and the spanning view port opened, the mass of distressed matter that once was Alderaan filled the entire perspective...
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The young man had already been confounded by the elders words, as though he'd never heard him speak before or at least not speak in such form, but the opening viewport and its revelation pulled him both deeper in to and further away from the moment at the same time. He slowly stepped forward as the words and nature of the document he'd been handed had already passed his immediate interests and stopped just short of pressing his face against the transparisteel, the shock of seeing it all for the first time in person was numbing, nearly forgetting the words just to spoken to him he managed to answer,
"..is this you making up for a life time lacking emotion and communication or listening skills?" he dryly and sarcastically spoke but meaning full honesty.
"..this is me acknowledging that I made mistakes. That you have your own mistakes to make, not mine to repeat" Calgan responded.
The two had still yet to really meet each others eyes or look directly at one another. As the younger officer took in the breathtaking or more closely suffocating sight before them, the elder had managed to procure two spirited drinks in dark amber color on ice. He stepped up to the view port next to the younger and handed him one of the glasses. The other received it but was still consumed with the literal manifestation of grotesqueness before them.
"To your Mother, and your future beyond this war," Calgan offered as he raised his glass beckoning the younger man to join him in the toast.
The other broke his gaze from the wreckage of Alderaan for the first time since he'd laid eyes on it. Briefly assessing the drink in his one hand and what were his signed discharge papers in the other, he seemed to barely give them much consideration as he sat the latter down on the Admirals desk and the former on top of it. Picking up his binders as he departed, without looking back the young officer spoke,
"I've got twelve days left on my mandatory Admiral," he stated before stopping outside the door and turning to look directly at the elder for the first time in the encounter between them,
"and intoxicants are forbidden for sanctioned officers."
The door slid back shut and the graveyard of Alderaan spun a somber dance behind him. Calgan smiled a momentary genuine smile for the first time he could recall in some time.
He finished his drink in a single gulp and picking up the other turned to observe what remained of his homeworld for the first time since their arrival for himself. He'd seen it in person before, but it's never something one grows accustomed to.
Pulling his desk chair over to the viewport, his knees began to wabble slowly before buckling as he fell in to it overwhelmed, a slight consistent shudder or shiver running through his body. There were no tears left to give from this soul, but elsewhere aboard the
Appenza, the ships brief unscheduled stop reverberated throughout from bow to stern..
(TBC..)
