#gedore

“Excuse me,” Shatir said, barely glancing back.

“One might consider that gross insubordination, Lieutenant” intoned a voice behind him. Shatir stopped dead in his tracks and whipped around.

“Taeg’edor’enokai?” Shatir exclaimed, staring at the black-clad individual. “What are you doing here?” Taeg’edor’enokai, usually going by Gedore, smiled. He wore the uniform of the Imperial Special Forces, his plaque declaring him a Captain.

“Is it so astounding to run into another Chiss here, of all places?”

“It is good to see you. Are you available later?” inquired Shatir “I’m afraid I have a meeting to get to at the moment.”

“Do you really? What a coincidence. So do I.”

“He wants to see both of us?”

“Apparently.”

“I don’t think there have been more than two of us together at any given time since we got off the ship from Csilla…” Shatir wondered aloud. Gedore broke in, speaking quietly in Cheunh.

“Maybe it’s time for us to overthrow our false leaders and once more rejoin our illustrious Ascendency.” Shatir glared at Gedore and replied in the same language. 

“That’s hardly a joking matter. If it were anyone but me you would be reported and executed.”

“Luckily I am quite certain that it is, in point of fact, you to whom I made this particularly egregious jest.”

“Perhaps I won’t turn you in. This time.” Shatir shot back.

“My thanks” replied Gedore in Basic, briefly bowing his head to his oldest friend.

They strode off together, an imposing duo in the lightly trafficked corridors. The few personnel they did encounter quickly stood aside to let them pass, poorly hiding their efforts to stare at the two Chiss officers. Most had only ever seen the one, from a distance at that. Now there were three of them on one ship.

Six Chiss had arrived from Csilla as part of Grand Admiral Thrawn’s program to study the suitability of incorporating the Chiss in other branches of the Imperial Military. Each recruit had gone into different departments. Shatir was placed in Naval Intelligence, Gedore the Special Forces and the others in the Army, Department of Military Research, Imperial Intelligence, and ISB. The position in the Navy proper was, of course, already filled. They were fully immersed in Imperial culture, each working their way through the Academy, rarely seeing one another. They all suspected they were deliberately kept apart, but logically could not see fault in such a course of action. To both be summoned by the Grand Admiral was hitherto unheard of.

They arrived at the entrance to the Grand Admiral’s command suite. Shatir nodded and Gedore punched the call controls. A moment later the door slid silently open and they stepped through. Both had been independently summoned before and knew what to expect. The arrangements of sculptures and artwork, both real and holographic, claimed much of the space in the office. At the moment though the Grand Admiral was studying a datapad. Shatir and Gedore stood stiffly at attention, saying nothing.

“At ease, gentlemen.” Thrawn said, putting down the datapad and fixing his gaze upon them. “Congratulations on your promotion, Taeg’edor’enokai. Your commanding officer speaks highly of your skills.”

“Thank you, sir.” replied Gedore.

“And you, Varosh’ati’roun. It has been some time since you were last aboard. Your mission was a success?”

“Yes, sir. I have successfully traced the targets.”

“Excellent. Then you have your next destination.” Shatir and Gedore exchanged the briefest of glances. Thrawn continued. “Lieutenant Shatir has been tracing several Rebel sympathizers. The hope is to insinuate him into their company, and then, once contact with the Rebellion has been established, he will become a double-agent.

Your role in this, Gedore, is extraction. In the event that Shatir secures a valuable asset, or is captured, you will retrieve him. You may assemble a team if you so choose. I need not remind either of you that the level of duplicity required for such an assignment is extreme and I trust you will use the full breadth of your abilities to maintain cover. Gedore, until such time as your services are required you will be assigned as Special Forces Liaison to the Chimaera.

Shatir, you may brief him further with any information you believe to be relevant, and proceed with your preparations. Dismissed.” Shatir and Gedore saluted, turned smartly on their heels and left the Grand Admiral to his studies.

They did not speak again until they had reached an open conference room. Shatir shut the door, engaged his personal comm jammer and pulled up his files on the holo-display.

“Rebel activity on Kashyyyk is quite common,” began Shatir, gesturing to a log of decrypted comms records, “a predictable side effect of the Empire favouring the Wookies as slave labour. Therefore it is a good starting point to find a sympathetic group. There is a slave auction in three days, and based on the communications I intercepted and data from the garrison, there is likely to be a rescue attempt. I hope to assist with that attempt and go with the group to a Rebel base. After that I’ll be on my own.”

Gedore nodded, scanning the text.

“Do you require assistance on Kashyyyk?” he inquired.

“Perhaps you could run interference on the local stormtrooper garrison? I would prefer to reduce Imperial casualties without arousing suspicion.”

“Of course”

“That’s about it. I have the advantage that most people have never encountered a Chiss before. We are one of the only races in the Galaxy who are more known to the Empire than anyone else, but even then it’s mostly restricted to the Navy and the Intelligence branches.”

“You can always say you’re a Pantoran with an eye condition.” joked Gedore, smiling slightly at the old adage.

“Indeed.” Shatir replied, distracted. “I suppose I must leave immediately. At maximum speed it will take at least two days to get to Kashyyyk from here. I need to assemble my kit.”

“I will fly you there. It will be easier to distract the garrison from local orbit rather than blasting orders across the galaxy from a not particularly inconspicuous Star Destroyer. If Rebel activity is so common I should be able to send them off on a raid with relatively little information. Of course, my holo transmitter will be malfunctioning and audio only. Does Captain Kovars sound like a convincing pseudonym to you?”

“As good as any. Increased Imperial activity should mask my activities nicely.” mused Shatir, rolling the plan over in his mind. “I’m sure the garrison will be thrilled to have a mystery officer hijacking their operations.”

“What can I say, Special Forces are special.” Gedore smirked. “No authorization required.”

A few hours later they were aboard a requisitioned Lambda class T-4a shuttle, discussing the upcoming mission, stories from the academy, any missions they could share without breaching security clearances and their lives in general. Both enjoyed the chance to talk as friends rather than as professionals. While there was now mutual respect between many Imperials and their Chiss colleagues, friendship was a difficult thing to come by. The Chiss officers had the advantage of full exposure to Imperial and human culture, but there was no reciprocation whatsoever. The Grand Admiral didn’t count, of course. Both Human and Chiss alike held him in awe, and his rank held him above all

The two day hyperspace flight went by in a flash, the two comrades finding themselves saying farewell once more. Shatir had changed out of his uniform into civilian clothing appropriate to the weather. He rolled his sleeves up in anticipation of the muggy jungle climate, and shrugged on a vest over the shoulder-holsters for his vibroknives.

“I have two gifts for you, before you leave. The first I had originally planned to leave on the Chimaera for you, but events have made this much more convenient.” Gedore pulled a chrono out of his pocket and presented it to Shatir.

“My thanks, Gedore. Had I but known I would be seeing you…” he trailed off, inspecting the chrono.

“Never mind that. It has one excellent feature, besides being waterproof up to 100m,” he reached over and grasped a tiny tab, pulling out a length of carbon nanofiber wire. “May your enemies never see you coming.”

“Charming, and incredibly useful. I thank you.” Shatir said, inclining his head graciously, and proceeding to fasten the chrono to his wrist.

“Anything for my oldest, most duplicitous friend,” grinned Gedore, slapping his shoulder. “The second gift, I fear you will enjoy less.” he said, grabbing Shatir’s forearm and stabbing an injector into his flesh. Gedore pushed the button with his thumb to activate it. Shatir hissed at the unexpected pain and looked quizzically at his friend, red eyes flashing. 

“This implant has two uses,” explained Gedore. “First off, it carries your Imperial credentials. It is undetectable until activated. In the event you need to prove you are, in fact, a commissioned Imperial operative, tap your arm near the implant twice. It will read on most ident-chip scanners. You can deactivate it again the same way. The second use is as an SOS tracking chip. It will piggyback an SOS on any local Imperial channels directly to the Chimaera, and to me. To call for aid, break the shielding capsule by pressing down on it. It takes a bit of force as it is designed not to break under normal combat conditions. If you are successful you should feel it burn slightly as it draws power from your body’s natural electrical currents. Then you just have to wait for the cavalry to arrive.”

“Unless, of course, I am not near any Imperial outposts.” commented Shatir drily, massaging his arm.

“That is true, but the options for undetectable beacons are rather limited, I’m afraid.” Gedore said cheerfully. “Now away with you. I must return to orbit and practice my lounging skills so I fit in with you Navy types once I return to the Chimaera.”