---
Empire Reforged
Chapter 51: Broken Comms, Broken Trust
Location: ISV Silver Lance, Temporary Forward Anchorage, Onderon Orbit
Date: BBY 6 – Day 13 of Operation Apex
The medbay lights had dimmed hours ago, but Lucan still hadn't moved.
He stood against the bulkhead near the recovery ward's outer viewport, arms folded, helmet off, the dried blood on his sleeve starting to crack.
Twenty-seven injured. Four critical. Two dead.
The numbers weren't catastrophic, not for a military operation. But they gnawed at him all the same — not because the crew had failed, but because the fleet had.
He could still hear the Gozanti's final distress ping as it broke apart in the silence of space. Still see the flares from a freighter that was never meant to be in a combat zone.
All because someone up the chain decided the insurgents would break at first contact.
They hadn't.
---
"Debrief with Task Force Command is in ten minutes," Veya said quietly as she approached, datapad in hand. "Admiral Konstantine's office has requested a written summary prior to your appearance."
Lucan didn't look at her. "You write it."
"You sure?"
"I won't waste words for a man who wasted lives."
Veya studied him, then nodded once and walked away.
---
The holobriefing chamber aboard the flagship Resolute Flame was everything Lucan expected: wide, grand, and utterly useless.
Admiral Konstantine's face filled the center display. He looked more irritated than concerned.
"I reviewed your report," he said curtly. "Your vessel sustained damage, and yet you did not pursue the retreating enemy. Why?"
Lucan's voice was calm, but razor-sharp. "Because preserving the convoy took precedence over a token chase. And because the enemy knew our route in advance. This wasn't chance — it was preparation."
A pause.
Another officer — Captain Marven of the Ironwake — cut in, his tone smug. "Perhaps if your ship had taken a more aggressive approach—"
Lucan interrupted. "—we'd have lost half the convoy. And still be blind. Sir, the Partisans anticipated our every move. Either they have eyes in the task force, or someone upstream is leaking operations data."
Konstantine scowled. "You are treading dangerously close to insubordination, Commander."
Lucan straightened. "Then punish me for speaking plainly. But don't ignore the evidence."
There was silence.
Then, unexpectedly, a third voice joined the transmission — cold, precise, and unfamiliar.
"This is Admiral Thrawn."
Every officer in the room straightened.
Lucan didn't move.
"I've reviewed the Silver Lance's telemetry and engagement data," Thrawn continued. "The decision to preserve convoy integrity over retaliatory pursuit was tactically sound. The doctrine of attrition does not apply to guerrilla warfare. Captain Virex understood that."
Captain.
Lucan blinked once — but said nothing.
Thrawn's voice remained steady. "A recommendation for promotion has been filed and accepted. Effective immediately, Commander Lucan Virex is to be elevated to the rank of Captain, with extended operational discretion for all engagements related to Partisan activity."
Konstantine looked like he'd swallowed a blaster pack.
Thrawn continued without pause. "The Silver Lance will remain in action, but task force coordination will now occur in direct consultation with my office. Efficiency must replace theater."
Then the transmission ended.
Lucan exhaled quietly.
Behind him, Veya leaned in. "That's one hell of a vote of confidence."
Lucan didn't smile. "It's not a reward."
"No?"
"It's a test."
---
Two hours later, Lucan met with his core bridge crew in the strategy room.
Darran was reviewing energy output metrics from the damaged weapons grid. Milar had already drawn up three defensive repositioning drills. Veya was double-checking fleet movement reports, looking for anomalies.
"The Partisans have multiple cells across this sector," she said. "But they're not acting independently. There's a coordination layer — someone linking their strikes."
Lucan nodded. "And we're going to find that link. But not by doing what the fleet expects."
Milar glanced over. "You're planning a shadow run?"
"Exactly. Controlled patrol sweeps through suspected zones. Quiet, irregular, and unpredictable. We won't give them a pattern to follow."
Darran looked up. "And when we find them?"
Lucan's voice was ice. "We break them."
---