WARFARE OFFICER REPORT #8

REPORTING OFFICER: Admiral Phoenix Berkana
DATE SUBMITTED: 27 February 2025

Imperial Storm, the TIE Corps annual exercise kicks off on March 1st... this year our forces are pitted not against the Kilji or another minor denizen of the Outer Rim, but the First Order...

The competition description can be found here.
Daily updates from the front lines will be available via the Imperial News Network which can be found on discord at: #imperial-news-network or via the Imperial Storm hub!

In the mean time though, I will leave you with a teaser from our own SA Kamjin Maverick Lap'lamiz

The Briefing - Super-Star Destroyer Avenger

Kamjin drummed his fingers absentmindedly on the conference table as the briefing clicked over to its fifth hour. Fleet Admiral John Clark had just pulled up another scouting report of the region of space they were preparing to advance into while Rear Admiral Colo Delste fiddled with the holoprojector to overlay the current positions of the Battlegroups and their corresponding strength and logistics. High Admiral Plif, clearing his throat, asked Clark to bring back up the previous data to compare.

Kamjin squinted and could have sworn Plif looked like a Hoojib in the dimly lit room. He smirked to himself. “Are we boring you?” Grand Admiral Rapier asked. The aged human’s gray beard and hair nearly matched his immaculate white uniform.

Kamjin scooted to the edge of his seat. “No,” he said. Rapier gave a knowing look and turned back to the briefing. The Fleet Commander rubbed his forehead. It was not in character for Rapier to show his exhaustion during a briefing. Perhaps, Kamjin thought, five hours without a break staring at the same repetitive scans of space were finally taking their toll.

A tone sounded. Kamjin perked up. Perhaps it was finally lunch being delivered. Plif depressed the control opening the door and Kamjin’s face fell. It was General Master, looking the worse for wear still in his flight suit, reporting. Now it was Kamjin’s turn to rub his face and hide a groan. Another reconnaissance report. This meant at least another two hours, if not more, of Clark and Delste debating the findings in real-time.

“Sir, we found something,” Master’s reported, snapping down his hand in salute. The occupants of the room turned with sudden curiosity as the squadron commander handed Plif a datadisc.

“What did you find?” Plif asked, his voice raspy from the extortion of the marathon briefing session. Master’s waited as Plif ensured the datadisc into the holoprojector. The dull projection of empty space and gaseous nebulae was replaced by a triangular shape both familiar and new at the same time.

“What is that?” Delste asked, before remembering his decorum for the briefing. Plif nodded to Master to respond.

“It’s clearly influenced by Imperial design standards but it wasn’t squawking Imperial when we got in range,” Master’s said, taking a step closer to the table to advance the data. “We received this emblem when we squawked our standard codes.” A red sextagon appeared with an inner circle of what looked like barbs. Kamjin looked around the room at the puzzled looks on everyone’s face…except Rapier, who’s eyes had narrowed.

“What happened next?” Plif asked, coughing. Master’s advanced the data again.

“They scrambled fighters. From the scans they look to be enhanced TIE Fighters and we decided it would be best to leave the area given what we were flying,” Master’s said, to the general nod of the assembled Admirals since Master’s squadron flew captured rebel ships such as X-Wings and A-Wings. Even with Imperial codes it was highly likely that a pro-Imperial remnant force would shoot first and ask questions later. “Captain Turel did get this long scan on the way out,” Master’s said, advancing the data again. “It appears to be an older style fuel depot stationed over a gas giant. Given the swirling hole in the planet I’d say they’ve been mining for some time.”

Kamjin and Rapier both leaned forward at the sight of the massive vortex of gas being drained from the planet. “Thank you, General,” Rapier said and it was clear to Master that it was time for him to leave. He snapped a crisp salute before leaving the room. As the door hissed closed, Rapier stood up. “Plif, set a course to this fuel depot for the fleet. If these forces are friendly to the Empire they’ll have a more pleasant reaction seeing our Star Destroyers than our Infiltrator Wing squadron. If they’re not friendly, we’ll benefit from that fuel as we continue our incursion into the Unknown Region,” Rapier said, leaving the briefing before waiting for Plif to give a response.

Kamjin eyed his superior as he left abruptly. Rapier knew something that he wasn’t sharing.

Dark Deception - Kamjin’s Quarters: Super-Star Destroyer Avenger

Kamjin entered his quarters and immediately began unbuttoning his uniform jacket. After all the years in the Emperor’s Hammer they had never quite mastered tailoring a comfortable uniform. His mind was reeling from what had just transpired. Rapier, who usually was quite forthcoming with his opinions and justification for action, had over the last few months become irritable. Kamjin had noticed the Fleet Commander looking increasingly distracted during briefings and, when he issued an order, it was uncharacteristically direct.

Despite the two of them being members of the Sith order and accomplished users of the Dark Side of the Force, there had always been a public calmness they presented. Was Rapier succumbing to the mystical energies of the Dark Side? Kamjin filed it away as something to meditate on. Shucking lose his jacket he tossed it onto his bunk. A small holoprojection of his young family simmered in the dim room. If not for the lingering glance he’d have missed the matte black holoprojector that was blinking.

Kamjin glanced quickly around the room. It was empty. This was not his holoprojector. Curiosity, as always, got the better of Kamjin. Picking up the device it activated with the image of a hooded figure. A dull metallic set of shoulder pads were the only contrast on the otherwise unimpressive set of robes.

“Your Fleet Commander has not responded to our last message. Therefore, we are reaching out to you. The Sith Eternal demands the subjugation of the Emperor’s Hammer Strike Fleet. You did not respond to Operation Cinder. You did not respond to the summons to Jakku. You will submit your fleet to Grand Marshal Hoshiko Takeda’s command in the Gasriese System immediately. Compliance will be rewarded, Adept. Failure will not be tolerated,” the otherworldly voice ended with a sneer. The device chirped, sparked, and began to melt. Kamjin dropped it to the floor where it sputtered before a pool of molten electronics oozed over the floor.

Kamjin sighed as he thought. Rapier clearly knew more than he was letting on but, for the moment, Kamjin trusted Rapier. They had served together for too many years for him to trust a strange message over the Grand Admiral. However…Kamjin activated his intercom.

“Sir?” the voice of the duty officer responded immediately.

“I need a secure comm to Darth Surgo and Inquisitor Honsou.”

“At once, Admiral.”

Kamjin rubbed the scruff along his jaw as the intercom processed the secure comm connection. It’s better to be prepared, he said to himself. Resolve setting in.

As the comm clicked over to the secure connection a holoprojection formed of Darth Surgo and Inquisitor Honsou. The two Sith stared momentarily at the Executive Officer. “We had an agreement about being summoned like this? The Secret Order was not to be at the beck and call of the fleet like the defunct Brotherhood,” Darth Surgo began before Kamjin raised his hand, silencing the man even across all these parsecs.

“I need you both to listen very closely. We have work to do,” Kamjin said.

The Interruption - HydroStation 77

Grand Marshal Hoshiko Takeda was growing impatient. “Get me Commander Velasco, immediately,” she ordered. She absentmindedly checked that her long hair was still in its tight bun as she surveyed the command deck of HydroStation 77. The usual dullness had been broken by the appearance of a squadron of rebel starfighters. Despite having outdated Imperial IFF codes and some newer code that appeared to follow a similar Imperial convention they had fled the edges of the system as soon as fighters had been scrambled.

A holographic projection of Commander Taron Velasco formed on the command station. The sleek new First Order TIE helmet stared up at Hoshiko. “What do you make of the situation?” Takeda inquired.

“It could be New Republic forces trying to lull us into a sense of security with those old Imperial codes,” Velasco replied. “I’m not certain what the second IFF was. Could be some other Imperial Remnant code they acquired. We didn’t get close enough to them to get a closer look. They bugged out as soon as they saw us deploy.”

Takeda turned to look out the massive view port, just barely catching the glint of light against the white solar panels of the TIE Fighters. “Do you think they were pirates?” she asked, a hint of hope betrayed her in her voice.

“It’s possible but we haven’t had pirate trouble since we wiped out Rylon Vexstar’s crew three cycles ago.” Velasco was probably right, Takeda thought to herself. Pirates wouldn’t have come in squawking IFFs at the First Order’s Star Destroyers and the New Republic would have definitely run like cowards if their ruse wasn’t bought immediately.

“Get back here,” Takeda replied before ending the transmission. Turning to Colonel Frieda von Stahl, a woman of similar age to Takeda herself who wore a matching white uniform with gleaming Stormtrooper armor and a white command cap, Takeda’s face was etched with concern. “Put the sector on alert and get the patrols on the comms. We’re going to be expecting visitors soon.”