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The galaxy is at peace now, and that is all that matters. It’s a hard-won peace, and still a bit brittle in places, but by and large people are enjoying a time of prosperity, security and growth under the watchful eyes of the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren his husband the Grand Marshal Armitage Hux.
Still, the war might be over, but it’s not forgotten, as is right and proper. So many people worked hard to ensure victory, so many sacrificed their lives, so many heroic deeds were done. All of this must be preserved and taught to the future generations so that such a war would never again need to be waged. For that purpose, there are universities and museums and memorials scattered throughout the systems, all serving in their own special ways to uphold the grand memory of the extraordinary moments in galactic history.
As such a memorial, the Star Destroyer Steadfast remains, despite having become obsolete years and years ago, her brief moment of glory a tiny footnote in the history books. She serves as a museum now, permanently moored in a system not that far away from Coruscant but still at a distance that denotes her rather insignificant status, a place where only history enthusiasts and unlucky schoolchildren ever find their way to. She’s not famous like the Finalizer, who still serves as a ceremonial flagship, completing a tour of the sites of the famous victories every standard year, manned by the best of the best students the New Empire’s military academies have to offer. The Supreme Leader and the Grand Marshal sometimes join her crew for a leg of the journey, commanding her in unison just as they did in the times of the war. Serving on the Finalizer is an honour the chosen ones are proud to display in their resumés.
The Steadfast does not share a similarly glorious history. There’s no record of her heroic deeds, all in all she’s just another old warship, saved from being recycled by some odd fluke of fate.
She’s not completely without history and legends, although the stories surrounding her history are not for the peer-reviewed, distinguished publications.
The visitors are allowed to roam her long, dusty corridors freely, to venture deep into her bowels and even try the stormtrooper obstacle course and a few simple battle simulations, modified into family-friendly entertainment but with just enough thrill to plant the seed of choosing a military career into the young, impressionable minds. There is a small, seldom-used hostel set up in the trooper barracks, and some of the kitchens are still operational, churning out snacks and greasy, quickly consumed sustenance for the hungry customers.
Where once walls echoed with the sound of marching boots and terse commands, shrieks and laughter (and, perhaps, some terse commands uttered by long-suffering teachers and parents) sound, only to quieten down when the rambunctious crew reaches the bridge. The teachers and parents alike sigh in relief and let the children press all the buttons they like on long-dead consoles, as long as it keeps them away from further mischief. The children are not the only visitors aboard the Steadfast. Here and there a scholar of military history can be spotted, perhaps imagining themselves in the heat of the battle – and even the odd veteran walking quietly among the crowd, lost in thought and a somber look on their face.
But that is not all, as on occasion, just once or twice, a certain other type of visitors have been let loose within the Steadfast. They tend to wear black, fashionable clothes and – depending on species – deliberately shoddy eyeliner. They set up cameras and other strange-sounding equipment, muttering about EVPs and full-spectrum cameras and psychic mediums, set their lights to cast ominous shadows among which they film themselves walking, explaining the unofficial but far more interesting history of the ship to their unseen audience.
It’s just legend, a wartime story among so many similar stories. Officially frowned upon, but never outright denied. It is said that Enric Pryde, who was the last commander of the Steadfast, although there’s very little said about him in contemporary or present-day sources other than he was an Allegiant General but found to be a traitor, trying to sell the First Order to the enemy for personal gain, and who was subsequently stripped of his rank and executed, still haunts the walkway of the bridge where he, according to the legend, lost his life.
The ghost hunters can’t agree on whether the glooming presence on the Steadfast’s bridge is mere residual energy, left behind by the momentous events that took place, or whether it’s an actual, intelligent spirit doomed to relive the moment of his death night after night as long as the ship itself exists. Some say they’ve seen the bridge flooded with blood. Some say they’ve seen an old, sour man in black uniform glaring at them, trying to speak but unable to, because where his throat should be there is only a gaping hole. Psychic mediums go into a trance and repeat the word “traitor!” and clutch their necks. Amateur occultists, angling for social media popularity rather than any serious data, play pranks on each other and pretend to see the ghost of Pryde, until something spooks them for real and they abandon their cameras and run away shrieking. All in all, the episodes filmed in the ship tend to be the most popular of their series.
Very little is known about the events surrounding Pryde’s death. It is known that the Supreme Leader and the Grand Marshal, then still a General, were stationed aboard the ship. It’s not mentioned in any reputable source but many claim that it was the Grand Marshal Hux himself who killed Pryde, either with his blaster, or by stabbing him through the throat with the swagger stick that was a part of the Allegiant General’s uniform. None of the security holos survived the war. The officers who witnessed the event refuse to say a word, even when plied with alcohol or money. All they say is that Pryde was a “fucking traitor” who deserved what was coming to him and if his ghost is still there, eternally tormented by the memory of his death, then all is well within the universe.
One brave soul once asked the Grand Marshal himself, on the rare event of him and the Supreme Leader giving an interview together, after a hugely popular if a bit wobbly and claustrophobic documentary made by a group of aspiring young filmmakers called The Steadfast Ghost Story had been released. The Grand Marshal placed his hand on the Supreme Leader’s knee, and they shared a look but refused to comment on the story, other than to say that all threats to the well-being of the galaxy would be eliminated swiftly and efficiently. The atmosphere in the room had grown heavy and intent, and everyone in attendance had felt it, blushed and shifted on their seats, some placing their datapads or other devices discreetly on their laps. The interview was quickly wrapped up after that and the Supreme Leader had all but pulled the Grand Marshal from the room by his hand.
The legends live, and in doing so keep the history alive for the younger generation who otherwise would forget about it and inevitably end up repeating the biggest mistakes themselves. And perhaps, in a roundabout way, the gruesome fate of the once-Allegiant General reinforces a feeling of security and trust in the leadership of the First order – as not even a man ostensibly protected by rank and privilege will not be above scrutiny and justice if they are found to abuse their power. The Steadfast, and her notorious ghost have earned their place among the mementoes of the war.