Hannah stood in a room, her posture rigid and a DataPad held tightly in her hand. This was the primary listening chamber of the ISD Leviathan, and dozens of Imperial Intelligence Officers operated the various stations and desks spread throughout the vast room.
But Hannah's focus was not on the flurry of activity around her. Her eyes were locked on a small machine tucked away in the corner of the chamber—a device she herself had planted in the Rebel transmission feed, accessed through the proper encryption protocols and with the full clearance of Governor Ian.
And now, she was listening.
The transmission was live. A voice crackled through the speakers—familiar, weary, desperate.
Veris was speaking.
"Please… listen.
My name is Veris. I am not a general. I am not a senator. I was a farmer once—a son, a brother.
I come to you not with a battle plan, but with a plea. Not just my own, but the cry of a dying people.
You may have heard of Vireen. Or perhaps you haven't. That's what the Empire wanted—to erase us. They turned our skies to glass. They buried our forests under molten rock. They wiped our name from the stars.
But we are still here.
Nineteen million of us remain—from billions. Nineteen million souls crammed into transport ships, destined for a new world selected by our executioners. We're told it's a 'relocation.' But in truth, it's a labor colony. A prison without walls.
Families are being torn apart. Children are branded like cattle with ID codes. Elders are discarded like waste. Those of us who resist… disappear. We know what that means.
My people are starving. Ill. Terrified. But not broken. Not yet.
We have no fleet. No advanced weapons. No sanctuary. We fight from the shadows—with blades, with scavenged explosives, with our bare hands. But it is not enough. The Shadows are bleeding.
We need help.
Not just to fight back. To survive.
I know the Rebellion stretches across a thousand systems. I know your war spreads you thin. But I beg of you—do not let Vireen vanish into silence. Don't let us die alone, forgotten.
We don't need armies. We need hope. Food. Medical supplies. A way off these ships. A whisper from the galaxy that says, 'You still matter.'
Please.
Don't let Vireen be a graveyard with no mourners.
Don't let this flame die out. Save our people."
"Ma'am, should we jam the transmission?" the officer at the station asked hesitantly.
Hannah shook her head.
"No. Let it play out. Only Rebels are listening, after all."
The officer's eyes widened slightly, uncertain of the reasoning, but he obeyed. The broadcast continued to pulse across Rebel frequencies—undisturbed.
__________________________
Mon Mothma slammed her hand down against the briefing table, the echo ringing through the room as she stood.
"We must help these people! Billions were exterminated, and now millions are being marched into slavery. How can we turn a blind eye to such genocide?" she cried, her voice charged with fury as she stared down the councilors seated around her.
"I agree with Mothma," Leia Organa added, her voice soft but unwavering. "These families are being torn apart while we sit and deliberate? We must act."
But the situation was far from simple.
"Princess… Chancellor… we simply don't have the resources to extract nineteen million individuals," Jan Dodonna interjected with a pragmatic tone. "And that's without considering shelter, supplies, and relocation. Where would we even house them?"
"Dodonna's correct," Admiral Ackbar agreed. "Logistically, a full evacuation is impossible."
Mothma exhaled sharply. "I'm not a fool—I know the numbers. But must we do nothing? Can these men and women not serve in our ranks? Surely they would welcome the chance to fight back?"
The room fell into silence as her words settled over the gathered council.
"They are determined," Crix Madine observed from his position near the doorway. "The destruction of their world has given them purpose. Vireen did not fall quietly."
"Hmm, that might work…" Dodonna mused. "We've struggled to find enough foot soldiers. Most recruits prefer starfighter training. But the Vireenians may provide us with willing ground forces."
Leia offered a faint smile, relieved that something might finally be done.
Crix stepped forward and activated his own DataPad.
"My informant tells me that the Empire's first transport is composed primarily of strong, able-bodied individuals. An intentional move to weaken resistance. The top four settlements have already been cleared of their healthiest residents. I recommend we ambush that convoy."
Ackbar nodded grimly. "Then it is decided. Home One will lead the strike. We'll extract the refugees and bring them aboard."
The meeting dispersed, not with celebration, but with the resolve to act.
___________________________-
General Kael stood near a viewport within the Leviathan, watching as thousands of Vireenians were herded aboard massive Class Four Cargo Haulers.
Imperial checkpoints had been established in the planet's five largest settlements. Following the deployment of Sentinel Troopers, cargo containers were dropped from orbit and then filled with civilians—marked, processed, and restrained.
Kael found the orders from Commodore Aaron Rysell curious.
Rysell had commanded that the strongest and healthiest Vireenians be taken first—perhaps a tactical move to reduce the rebel recruitment pool. But Kael knew this would only deepen the desperation of those left behind. The strong were often providers—their removal would push entire communities to collapse.
Still, Kael had stopped questioning the Commodore's peculiar strategies. Rysell was unconventional, but he delivered results. Again and again.
Most of the population targeted for this round had already been loaded. A few remained.
Fortunately, the rebel base discovered in Sector S-5 had been neutralized by Colonel Catcher, significantly easing Kael's burden and allowing him to shift focus to the remaining settlements.
S-5 was now under Imperial lockdown. The Empire had deployed a major contingent of tanks and support vehicles to the region. In fact, over 60% of Kael's armored forces were now groundside—poised to spearhead anti-insurgency operations.
The insurgents were ill-equipped for such firepower. They had no heavy artillery. They relied on guerrilla tactics, which made the overwhelming deployment of armor all the more devastating.
And with the activation of the SN-1 orbital cageships—laser-prison constructs suspended above the planet—the five largest cities were now sealed off entirely. The rebels were forced to operate outside them.
This was a double-edged blade. While insurgents had mobility, they couldn't hide large numbers. Any sudden spike in bio-signature activity in a zone would be detected and investigated.
The Shadows were losing.
And unless a Rebel fleet intervened, they would continue to bleed. This was the reality of the Empire's dominion: once captured, escape was fantasy.
Kael's attention shifted again as eight more ships entered the system—Class Four Cargo Transports, identical to the others.
The Moff had been pleased by the operation's efficiency and had approved the deployment of an additional eight haulers. This meant the initial convoy would consist of twelve total vessels—an unprecedented number.
A staggering 276,000 civilians would be deported in a single wave.
The Moff had made it clear, however: this was a one-time allowance. Future transports would return to the usual quota—roughly 92,000 individuals per shipment.
Kael sighed. Sorting that many civilians would take days, perhaps more. Documentation, scanning, security clearances—it all took time.
Fortunately, those tasks were handled planet-side. Bomb checks, infection scans, sedation—all part of the processing. Kael had even heard rumors that Wraith Troopers were performing "medical evaluations" on select individuals. Disturbingly, those refugees were reportedly unconscious before the Wraiths ever arrived.
"Sir, SO-103 just activated its distress beacon," an officer called out suddenly. "It's been ambushed—twelve clicks north of the Arugala Mountain."
Kael turned instantly. "Nearest interception unit?"
"Aurek-12, sir."
"Deploy them. I want that juggernaut accounted for. Every body, every crate. Understood?"
"Yes, General."
Kael walked briskly to his console and retrieved his DataPad. He opened a specific document, one whose contents few had access to.
Project Spindle.
A covert initiative—its purpose: to create a rail-based transit network across the surface of Vireen. Designed to connect labor centers, mining facilities, and resource drop-points, it was one of the Empire's long-term strategies to make insurgent ambushes nearly impossible.
And Commodore Rysell had been the architect behind it.
Why he cared so deeply about the productivity of this ruined world remained a mystery to Kael. But he was certain of one thing:
The Commodore had a plan.
And Kael could only hope it served the unit's interests—and didn't bring down the wrath of the Moff.
______________________
So this will be the end of my focus on planetside actions, we will now focus on the rebellions ambush of the Class Four Cargo Ships, how Aaron will respond, I.Is investigation into the Moff, and Aaron developing the planet.
This conflict will serve as the buildup for the next arc, which will continue until near the Battle of Endor. Which will include more fights, and some preperations for what is to come.
We will see what he will do after Endor, who he will join and eventually who he will fight. Warlords, rebels, Empire, or all three?
And the people of Vireen will be the main butterfly effect of this world. And they will play a massive role in the future of the Galaxy.
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Pondsfyre - +20 chapters, alongside 5 other stories of mine. Each 50+ chapters.