Old Heroes Never Die

New Republic Central Command

:: The sound of boots walking across the durasteel catwalks echoed through the base. Guards shot to attention as the CPO called out, "Admiral on deck."

:: They could feel it in the air. It was something many had not felt before, but the older crewers remembered it well ... from the rebellion. There was an electricity running through every sentient who had heard the latest rumors. Some might call it the Force. Most couldn't give it a name. It was part hope, part determination, part excitement, part pride. It felt good.

:: Garm Bel Iblis continued his inspection of the facility, a stoic expression you could etch in stone hiding his own excitement. Inside, part of him felt like a kid again. While nodding to the men and turning a critical eye everywhere he looked, he was reliving the glory days. He and his rogue band tramping through the galaxy, 3 of his mightiest Dreadnaughts in the lead ... they took everything the Empire had to throw at them and asked for seconds.

:: The white-haired Corellian stopped at the viewport overlooking the fleet's ships in drydock. He took a deep breath as that little kid in him dropped his jaw. At least a dozen Mon Cal Cuisers, frigates, strike cruisers, and countless Carracks were dwarfed by several Imperial Star Destroyers beyond them. Garm sighed.

"I am definitely getting too old for this."

EDIT: Fixed typo and removed sig.

Delalt IV

:: Ris JeTeren, administrator of the Lelin Starport, chewed hard on his cigarra as he watched the Delalt system's new arrivals. A squadron of X-Wings appeared first, followed by 10 heavy freighters out of hyperspace. He was still put off by the orders given to him by his superiors. The shift in his timetable wasn't appreciated.

:: The 70 year old human marched toward the docking bay. This had better be good, he thought as he eyed his datapad one more time. The New Republic doesn't even seem to notice us for how long, now we get a big hush hush shipment with Naval Command's signature no less? Please..

:: Soon he arrived amid a flurry of military uniforms and binary lifters unloading crates from airlocks across the hangar. "Foreman!" Ris called out. "C'mere ... I want to see that manifest.

:: The dock formen handed him the datacard. Upon inspection, it was marked with a high authorization code. Ris skimmed the list, but the amount indicated didn't come close to what he saw being moved into several awaiting transports. He keyed in his security clearance code.

:: JeTeren's eyes widened. He double-checked the code. No, this was as real as it gets. The old man looked up, a wide smile on his face. "What are you looking at?" he growled at the foremen. "Help these men. We've got work to do!"

:: Ris turned away and smiled, looking over the list of materials and specs with an enthusiasm he had not felt in years.

Secret NR Base, Codename: Peregrine's Nest

:: Garm Bel Iblis sat at his desk, staring at a large hologram of the core worlds and colonies. Across from him, General Pash Cracken, commander of New Republic Intelligence, waited patiently. Completing the inner circle of men, General Crix Madine, commander of the New Republic Army, answerable only to the Chief of Staff herself, regarded the latest fleet updates. Such reports were becoming far too common for all of them.

:: Bel Iblis's distinguished features and stark white hair did little to conceal his age. Cracken's hairline had finally stopped receeding well past the top of his scalp. Madine's once slim physique now sported a thickening midsection. An outsider looking at this gathering might think that all three men should be happily retired, tending a farm or watching nerfs somewhere quiet. Were all they fought for at one time not slipping away, they would be.

:: But collectively, these men possessed over 125 years of military wisdom. Thus armed, they intended to take back the galaxy.

:: A voice broke into their musings from the back of the office. "Seven of our agents have reported in. We expect to hear from the rest within the week." The speaker, Captain Yun Tilgraze of the NR Intelligence Division, looked like he came straight off a recruitment holopost with his uniform and clean, military cropped brown hair.

:: Garm looked up from the hologram. "Good. We're on schedule," he said. "I want to stress to both of you," he paused to indicate Cracken, "that the only information I want from your people is fleet movements and positions. Digging too deep will risk compromising their cover. This Darth Viscera is paranoid and ruthless... an ugly combination. Getting more information than we need isn't worth it at this point. Understood?"

:: The comlink station on the admiral's desk chimed as the officers nodded their agreement. "Sir, Major Wisseri is here to see General Cracken. She says it's urgent."

:: With a signal from Garm, the door whooshed open, and a striking woman dressed more like a smuggler than a NR Officer walked in. Cracken stood up. "Iella. You already know Captain Tilgraze. This is--"

:: Iella Wisseri smiled. "General," she said with a nod to Madine, then turned. "Senator, or rather Admiral. It's an honor." She paused, cutting the introductions short, and took a deep breath. "We have an update from the battle over Kuat. Gue is dead."

:: If she didn't have the full attention of the room, she did now. "But it wasn't one of our people. The report is incomplete, but apparantly it was one of his own. And ... he was screaming like some kind of religious zealot for the glory of the New Republic."

:: Garm raised one busy eyebrow, a look of genuine confusion on his face. "What?"

:: Cracken and Tilgraze exchanged glances. "It's worse than we thought," the younger said at length.

:: Pash turned to the Admiral. "Many worlds are starting to think of us as the Rebellion again. The GMA and the Empire are spreading with such impunity that they think we've given up."

:: Iella spoke up. "What's worse ... We've known that the GMA and TGE were going to merge for some time. This seals it. With both forces under one command, they are the Empire in more than just perception."

:: At that Bel Iblis cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Let me make one thing clear right now. This is not the Empire we're dealing with. This is a cutthroat gang of petty warlords with delusions of grandeur. All this does is give us a clearer image of our enemy's face. From this point on, we do not refer to them by their full name. They are the TGE. Nothing more."

:: Silence reigned for several breaths as everyone in the room absorbed the Admiral's words. "General Madine," he said at last, "Is your sleeper team in position?"

:: Crix Madine straightened in his chair. "Yes. My men are on the surface and waiting for the green light."

:: Garm leaned back, lacing his fingers as his gaze lost itself in the hologram before him. "Tell them they will have to be more patient than first expected."

:: Garm stood on the observation deck of Shipyard Gamma, overlooking the final touches being put on a Star Destroyer. He took in a deep breath, held it. Soon all this is going to change, he reminded himself.

:: As if on cue, the turbolift door behind him slid open, breaking him from his musings. Captain Tilgraze passed security with a nod, a Sullustan wearing a white lab coat in tow. A gold plated protocol droid hobbled alongside of them, glancing out the wide viewport into space nervously.

:: Yun pivoted and stopped in front of the Admiral with military crispness. "Sir, I am pleased to introduce Tib Tieb, our new Chief of Engineering and Design. The final datawork has been stamped. The New Republic has finally convinced SoroSuub to leave their current light freighter and starship projects to ... broaden their market appeal."

:: Tib started to chuckle, his laughter running into jibberings as he became more animated. The Sullustan finally paused, and both humans smiled in return.

:: "Dr. Tieb is also very pleased to inform you that his staff has made outstanding progress already, and will be ready to present new designs..." The droid trailed off as he noted everyone looking at him oddly.

:: Garm regarded the droid curiously. "We know. Both I and the Captain deal with Sullustans on a regular basis." He turned to Tilgraze. "Why is he here?"

:: The droid tilted his head, speaking on his own behalf. "I was assigned to Dr. Tieb, Admiral. You can find my requisition orders filed under Zeta#Y: \LKJ932~R--"

:: Suddenly Garm's eyes lit up with recognition. "What is your designate?" he asked quickly.

"I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations. I am fl--"
"You came in on the last transfer didn't you?"
"Why yes sir, I--"

:: Bel Iblis snapped a cold stare at Captain Tilgraze, his tone clearly relaying his annoyance. "This is Solo's idea of a joke isn't it." It wasn't a question.

:: Tilgraze merely looked between Threepio, Tieb, and his commander. "I would suspect so, sir. Yes."

:: Garm took another deep breath. Smiling he extended his hand to the Sullustan. "Dr. Tieb it is an honor and I look forward to working with you. I trust your accomodations are suitable?" Tib nodded exitedly. "Good. Captain, you're dismissed. Doctor, it was a pleasure."

:: Visibly confused, C-3PO hesitantly followed the others toward the turbolift.

:: Garm sat at his desk, pouring over datacards with the latest ship specs, fleet movements, and production reports. Space had been blissfully quiet during this critical building phase of the New Republic's plans, but he still fought that nagging feeling that it was too quiet.

:: The comlink signalled that Captain Tilgraze was here to see him. The Admiral opened the door from his desk, looking up as the young Intel officer entered.

:: Tilgraze placed yet another datapad on the desk. "Good news, sir. Tieb's team believes they have solved the power management issues with the C-Wing."

:: Garm relaxed at the fact that this was more than just another mundane report. This was, in fact, good news. "Excellent," he said. "Recall Storm Fleet to shipyard Epsilon. We'll want her fighters refitted as soon as testing is complete. Relay my congratulations to the Sullustans."

:: Yun nodded. "Have you had a chance to review the other designs, sir?"

:: Garm picked up a datacard from the stack. "Yes I have. And it's no suprise, I like what I see. I've already sent orders for this one -- the Republic Class -- to be put at the top of the list. I want to see how they perform before we go ahead with the others."

:: Yun nodded again, keeping his almost too-perfect military composure. "I'll let Dr. Tieb and his team know." And with that, he left.

:: Garm dropped the datacard back on his desk and stood up. He paused at the viewport, then walked around slowly toward the wall. He sighed, stopping at a static holo mounted on the wall. The scene was of three people at one of those "official" parties, Mon Mothma, Bail Organna, and a rather strapping young Corellian Senator with rich, full black hair.

:: The old man's eyes softened. "What happened, Bail?" he asked the hologram. "We won. We sent them running. How did it come to this?"

:: The dead man smiling back at him did not answer.