Nanth’ri Orbit, Nanth’ri System


    Kurost Sector


    “This is the star frigate Repulse,” TF-1726 spoke, “We are seeking clearance and a berth. Standby for clearance code transmission.”


    Nanth’ri. A green-blue, rather unremarkable–even borderline backwater world–whose only call to fame was the lending of its name to the Nanth’ri Trade Route. Alright, maybe that was a little disingenuous. The Nanth’ri Trade Route was a meandering spacelane running through a rather volatile region of space that acted as a shortcut between the Core Worlds and Mid Rim–and Nanth’ri sat right at the end of that spacelane.


    On galactic scale astrocharts, it would hardly be a blip on the map, but in the context of local space, Nanth’ri was a critical tradeworld sitting on a rather profitable merchant route. On the other hand, Nanth’ri sat in that literal grey area where neither the Hutts nor the Republic could agree who owned, leading to an explosion of piracy on the Nanth’ri Trade Route, transforming the star system into something of a Nassau or Tortuga of the Outer Rim.


    Not that there were anymore pirates left. Not after the Confederacy stormed in and flipped the table.


    “Repulse, this is battlecruiser Kronprinz,” a familiar voice responded, “We’re laying out a vector for you. Welcome back.”


    Kronprinz? I stood up and peered out the viewports, glancing down at the flashing pins on Repulse’s array of repeaters and scopes. Familiar transponders blinked back at me; Columexi battlecruiser Kronprinz, Metalornian dreadnought Olympus Mons, Salvaran heavy cruiser Sarissa, Sy Myrthian carriers, Ringo Vindan destroyers, Atrakenite corvette Habatok II. Familiar ships, captained by familiar names. It was as if the entire Perlemian Campaign had come to Nanth’ri.


    “Looks like we’re late to a party,” Chief Engineer Kavia Slen commented, awe glittering in her eyes, “So this is a warfleet…”


    Kavia stood to my left, directly opposite Tuff’s reserve on my right, and I nodded in silent agreement as I studied the ponderous mountains of battle steel drifting against the stars, glittering with the brilliant pinpricks of their own riding lights. I knew the exact feeling stirring in Kavia’s gut right now–I had once been in her shoes, after all. A child seeing the world for the first time. Power in your left hand, and the lives of millions in your right.


    “Tuff, get me a list of ships in the star system that with matches in Repulse’s comm logs,” I ordered.


    The tactical droid looked at me critically, as if saying ‘seriously, now?’ but nonetheless pushed an indignant B1 out of the way to commandeer their console. Not fifteen minutes into our transit towards our designated orbital births, Tuff swiped the data into my chair’s built-in displays, and I scrolled the list. There were almost a thousand warships in orbit that Repulse had previous contact with before, but digging deeper, I then filed a request to view their formations.


    It was then I received my first taste of the Pantoran’s military reformations. A barrage of numbers assaulted my eyes. Realising I was going to get lost navigating the structure, I saved the datafile for future reference, before filtering it down into a quick summary so I wasn’t walking into the meeting blind.


    1st Fleet Group; Commanding Officer Admiral Kirst. New Territories AO. The only formation of the 1st Fleet Group present was the 19th Mobile Fleet; Rear Admiral Trilm.


    2nd Fleet Group; Commanding Officer Admiral Trench. Perlemian AO. There were two subformations present in-system: the 21st Guard Fleet, CO Rear Admiral Merai; and 28th Mobile Fleet, CO Rear Admiral Bonteri.


    That’s mine, I thought. The 28th Mobile is mine.


    “Give me the list of vessels organised under the Twenty-Eighth Mobile,” I requested.


    “...Thirty battleships, twenty-three battlecruisers, thirty-six cruisers, seventy-five destroyers, one-hundred fifty-one frigates, and five auxiliaries,” Tuff dutifully narrated, “Three-hundred and twenty vessels in total.”


    “Stelle, give me a line to Kronprinz.”


    “Roger roger. It’s open, sir.”


    “Admiral Greyshade,” I asked tentatively, “Is that you?”


    “...Your memory honours me,” the Columexi replied, “The Twenty-Eighth Mobile is yours.”


    “What on God’s green Earth are you doing here?” I questioned, inwardly elated to see a familiar face, “Why aren’t you back on the Perlemian?”


    “You can thank the Militia Act,” Diedrich replied, and I could almost feel him shrugging on the other end, “With much of the Peace Faction at the summit and unable to vote, the Militia Act passed the Senate with a huge majority. All existing military assets must be registered under the Office of the General, and all system and or sector governments must contribute a portion of them to the Armed Forces. So here we are.”


    “Yes…” I dragged out, double-checking the glaring Perlemian AO on a nearby readout, “But it says here the Second Fleet Group’s area of operations is back home.”


    “Need-to-know, I’m afraid,” Diedrich chuckled, “We’ll meet on the Invincible. You’re the last to arrive.”


    Star dreadnought Invincible. Two kilometres of hardened doonium and bristling with a fearsome array of over two-hundred torpedo launchers. Once the most infamous warship of the Southern Theatre and bane of the Republic, the flagship of Admiral Trench’s scarred visage has been renewed with a fresh coat of paint and plating, almost as if mimicking her commanding officer.


    Once upon a time, Repulse served directly under her. Once upon a time, a certain General Tann pulled Repulse away from her. Strange how I’ve seemed to come full circle. Maybe this was the Supreme Commander’s idea of a joke… or a measured display of authority for Admiral Trench.


    “Prep me a shuttle,” I circled to the rear of my chair, ignoring the purple cape draped over the backrest, “Hare, come with me… Kavia, watch the ship.”


    “Can do, boss,” Kavia grinned, clearly intent on continuing ship-gazing.


    After a quick transit, my shuttle decelerated to a halt relative to Invincible, then rolled on its gyros as the dreadnought’s hangar bay tractors locked on. They drew the Sheathipede steadily in, then deposited it with scarcely a tremor within the atmospheric ray shields. There was a background thud, and the ramp lowered, spewing out the pressure differential in the form of white steam.


    Two familiar faces met me at the bottom; Diedrich and Vinoc. The most immediate detail that caught my eye was the effects of the Armed Forces, most notably the Confederate rank plaques on their shoulders. Commodore, the symbol read on both.


    Greyshade blinked, noticing my curiosity, “Militia Act.”


    As if that explained everything.


    It sort of did. It explained most things in the Armed Forces these days. The Militia Act officialized the precedence of the federal military hierarchy over local system hierarchies. The only people who were promoted or retained in rank following the Militia Act were heretofore Armed Forces officers already, like I was. Diedrich Greyshade was likely still a Counter Admiral in the Commonality’s Joint Defence Fleet, but it didn’t translate to the Confederate Navy. The system blatantly favoured officers already on the federal payroll–for obvious reasons–and pissed off everybody else. But it pissed off everybody else equally.


    And that’s arguably good governance.


    But first, formalities. Respect goes a long way–both for people and officialities. I strode right up til the painted line on the deck which indicated the official beginning of star dreadnought Invincible, but no further. I zeroed in on the nearby B1, wearing the colours of the hangar officer of the deck.


    “Permission to come aboard, sir?”


    The droid startled in surprise, before snapping into a mechanical salute, “Permission granted, sir. Welcome aboard.”


    I smiled, replying to the salute with my own and crossing the painted line.


    “What’s the agenda?” I quickly asked, ignoring the strange looks the two commodores had for me, “And where’s the Supreme Commander?”


    “She couldn’t make it,” Vinoc answered as we began power-walking to the turbolift.


    “Why?”


    Diedrich raised an eyebrow, “You ought to tell us why. You were there.”


    “The Senate has summoned her for a public hearing,” Vinoc punched in a deck level, “And she ventilated her suspicions of Count Dooku on national holotelevision. The Senate then summoned Count Dooku for another public hearing. It’s a full blown political crisis up there.”


    “And it''s a military crisis down here,” Diedrich added wryly, “The Supreme Commander will still be attending. Simply not in person as she wanted.”


    ?


    “Twenty-Eighth Mobile Fleet, designate, arriving!” the intercom declared as I stepped through the briefing room’s blast doors, and the officers who had been seated around the large conference table rose.


    “As you were, all of you,” Admiral Trench towered over the table and everybody around it, “I extend my congratulations, Rear Admiral. You find the Twenty-Eighth to your liking, I hope?”


    “Doesn’t explain why it’s here and not on the Perlemian,” I admitted as I found my seat.


    Diedrich and Vinoc followed me as Hare came to a stop at my feet, and as they found their chairs and the other officers settled back into their places, I let my eyes run around the table. The table was as stacked as it could be with veterans of the Perlemian Campaign, and many of them greeted me with a wave and nod. I found Calli Trilm lounging a ways away, as the only flag officer from the 1st Fleet Group present–which was doubly strange, as the 1st Fleet Group’s AO was the New Territories. On her left was her flag XO, the one-eyed Commodore Aviso, and to her right was Commander Rel Harsol, now commanding a whole squadron of frigates.


    Then there were the officers of the 28th Mobile Fleet, the people under my direct command and many recently promoted. I counted the Muun Commodore Horgo Shive and the Neimodian Commander Krett, along with Auxiliary Commander Jorm.


    At the head of the table was Admiral Trench, my direct superior, and beside him was his fellow former-Corporate Alliance officer, the Mon Cala Rear Admiral Merai.


    I think I was starting to see a pattern emerge.


    “It’s good to see all of you gathered in one place at last,” Trench said, after a moment. “I believe everybody here is in the know. As such, I will furnish a summary of recent events while we wait for our Supreme Commander’s arrival. Six days ago, Coruscant had been attacked by an unknown fleet. This has been confirmed. The damage the planet sustained is unknown. And as of yesterday, our Naval Intelligence have confirmed the perpetrator was Admiral Dua Ningo.”


    A wave of recognition rippled out. Everybody knew Dua Ningo was the old Sullustan admiral who disappeared shortly before the war began. Few present could have predicted how he chose to re-enter it.


    “Who we lost contact with before the war began,” Commander Krett tapped the table with his ridged digits.


    “And the last person who was in contact with him was Count Dooku,” Trench finished, none too happy about the interruption, “We must be prepared of a certain possibility; that the Armed Forces must take action against our Head of State, in the case he refuses to surrender his office. Commander, speak over me again and I’ll have you slated for administrative punishment.”


    The Neimodian shrunk back, “My apologies, sir.”


    “Permission to speak freely?” Horgo Shive leaned forward.


    “Granted.”


    “So we’re planning a coup?”


    “In the case that he refuses to surrender his office,” the only Fleet Admiral at the table repeated, this time more forcefully, “Otherwise, that sort of talk will not be tolerated.”


    “Will the Senate even successfully impeach Dooku?” Commander Harsol rested an elbow on the table, “He’s basically their favourite child.”


    Not a small amount of eyes turned towards a certain Calli Trilm, as if expecting her to comment, as she usually did on political affairs. After so long, it was easy to think that Calli had become their unofficial political liaison, considering her mastery of the affairs. The woman in question, on the other hand, was leaning so far back in her seat she was only a single move away from kicking her feet onto the table.


    Annoyance flashed across her face, “...What?”


    The intercom blared, “Incoming transmission from Raxus Secundus.”


    The clattering of chairs filled the room as everybody shot to their feet, with Admiral Trench hastily vacating his position. Not a moment later, the Supreme Commander took the now empty slot at the head of the table.


    “At ease,” Sev’rance Tann immediately ordered, “I will make this update quick. As some had predicted, the Confederate Senate had been split by the crisis into those unapologetically pro-Dooku, and those who support the integrity of our Bylaws.”


    No one actually moved, but it was as if an invisible stir had run around the compartment. General Tann’s choice of vocabulary had been… pointed, and almost accusatorily specific–it was safe to say, at least, where she stood on this debate.


    “The documents had been presented to the Senate and made public to our nation,” she continued, “The rest is out of our hands.”


    For the first time since the meeting started, I spoke my piece; “And what happens if the Senate decides to not impeach Count Dooku?”


    Sev’rance Tann’s glowing red gaze met me squarely, “Then we will wait for Dooku to act again, and catch him in the act again. The Armed Forces’ sworn duty is to conserve the sanctity and integrity of our nation and its laws. We will continue to do that primly.”


    She broke eye contact, sweeping over the rest of the table, “Until then, let’s focus on winning the war.”


    Right on cue, the projection of the entire galaxy sprung out of the table, awash with great swatches of blue and red, concentrations of lights indicating the presence of fleets, and other minutiae no ordinary officer would have access to. Glaringly, there was a splotch of red hovering over Coruscant, a lone island in a sea of blue. A question mark bobbed over the spot in place of a designation or callsign.


    “In order to distance ourselves from the Attack on Coruscant, and defy the HoloNet’s expectations of our so-called treachery, we will be pulling back all our fleets on all fronts,” she explained to a captured audience, “We will be, in essence, allowing the Republic to seize the initiative.”


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    “We won’t have to wait long,” Vinoc brushed his beard, “The HoloNet is already espousing the values of war.”


    “The question is,” Admiral Trench tapped his cane on the ground, “Where will the Republic attack first?”


    “There are five possible fronts,” the Supreme Commander snapped her fingers, “First, and most likely is in the New Territories, where the Republic’s Eighth Sector Army had recently captured Dantooine. Their supply lines are solid, and they are riding on good momentum. My staff projects they will soon encircle and take Mygeeto, as well as proceed east to Agamar.”


    Agamar, capital of the Lahara Sector. Senator Tyreca Bremack won’t be pleased to learn her constituency was about to become the front line.


    “The second front is on the Perlemian,” her finger then drifted east towards the Foundry of the Confederacy, “Reports indicate the Republic will not make any new offensives in this region, as their fleets are spent for the time being. Instead, the Second Fleet Group under Admiral Trench will seek to liberate our lost systems. Third, and just as unlikely, is right here, at Nanth’ri. Our Mistryl allies from Emberlene had recently beaten back the Republic from Nanth’ri, and have now encircled significant units of the Republic’s Fourth Sector Army on Attahox and Mimban.”


    “Fourth, and most at risk, is our holdings on the Corellian Run–” the projection traversed to the string of heavily populated commercial and industrial worlds in the Mid Rim cut of the Corellian Run, from Allanteen to Christophsis, “As you are aware, our victory at Christophsis had stymied the Republic’s ambitions on the Run early in the war–but that did not stop them from taking the shipyards of the Allanteen System. We predict the Republic’s Sixteenth Sector Army intends on pushing Rimward until they’ve captured the Seventy-Seven Sectors.”


    The 77 Sectors were the seventy-seven subsectors crossed by the Corellian Run in the Expansion Region, stretching from Allanteen-VI and Tynna to Bacrana and Thaere in the south. While the Tion Cluster and Near Perlemian was the industrial heart of the Confederacy, the 77 Sectors and the Corellian Run could be said to be the commercial soul. It was for this reason we spent so much effort linking up the two territories. It has always been in the GAR’s best interest to prevent precisely this, and with Emberlene’s timely intervention at Nanth’ri, it looks like the GAR has pivoted on their objectives.


    “And lastly, there is the Rimma Trade Route. Forces in the south led by Commander Ventress had recently crippled the shipyards of Eriadu, and paralyzed the Seswenna Sector’s capability for extended operations,” the Supreme Commander looked up, “However, we had also suffered a string of defeats at the hands of the Twentieth and Eighteenth Sector Armies, led by Jedi General Rees Alrix.”


    “Isn’t Ventress another of Dooku’s political plants?” Rel Harsol scoffed derisively,


    “Not just any plant,” Diedrich Greyshade added, “She’s one of his ‘new’ Jedi Order.”


    “The old Jedi Order is doing just fine, if all of them are like General Alrix,” Horgo Shive muttered.


    “But the Republic are not without casualties,” Admiral Trench clicked his mandibles, shutting everybody up, “At the beginning of their offensive, the Republic possessed a reported eight-hundred warships on the Rimma. Our strategy of the defence in depth has seen their forces whittled down to little over a hundred-thirty warships concentrated around Sullust and Eriadu.”


    “Eighty-percent casualties,” Rear Admiral Merai said in disbelief, and admiration, “Any sane commander would pull out far before that.”


    “The linchpin holding the Republic fleets together is their Jedi General. That is my belief,” Sev’rance Tann nodded, “General Alrix’s propensity for fighting against mounting odds and still seizing victory has seen her status catapulted to one of near-legend among her troops, and in the Core Worlds. At this moment she is besieging Sullust with only a hundred warships, while the Eighteenth Sector Army continues to recapture the Seswenna Sector. There is no better time to launch a counteroffensive than now.”


    From the way the Supreme Commander was looking right at me, I had a rough idea of whose job it’s actually going to be to launch said counteroffensive. And right on cue, Admiral Trench used his cane to point at one of the pins hovering over Nanth’ri; 28th Mobile Fleet.


    “This is Operation Storm-Door,” the Harch Admiral announced, “In the New Territories, the First Fleet Group will take forward defensive positions on Agamar, preventing the Republic from advancing on the Celanon Spur. At the same time, the Third Fleet Group will prepare to defend the Corellian Run, holding onto positions around New Cov and Druckenwell.”


    “That is an awful lot of assets being moved around,” I noted out loud, “Are we certain the Republic hasn’t learned their lesson from Operation Trident?”


    “There is no hiding the redeployments, not at this scale,” General Tann folded her arms, “In fact, Republic High Command must have viewed Trident as a victory, because they are doubling down on investing even more resources. For one, their Seventh Armada has departed the Northern Dependencies to reinforce the Eighth Sector Army, and the Second Sector Army has been mobilised and are now pouring onto staging grounds along the Corellian Run. In order to fill the gaps left by the Seventh and Second, the Republic has even redeployed their Core Reserve Fleets towards the Colonies and Inner Rim. Every indication of these two offensives are present to us.”


    “They’re leaving the Core Worlds defenceless?” I nearly fell out of my chair, “While a rogue fleet is rampaging around Coruscant!? What are they thinking!?”


    “If that says nothing of their overconfidence,” Vinoc mused, “Nothing will.”


    “Or maybe we will witness a complete one-eighty in the coming weeks,” Greyshade pointed out, not without sense.


    General Tann waited in silence until attention returned to her– “Nevertheless, we will wait for the Republic to commit to their offensives, before executing the second phase of Operation Storm-Door. Admiral Trench’s Second Fleet Group will launch a counteroffensive poised to retake our lost Perlemian worlds. Concurrently, the Fourth Fleet Group will do the same on the Rimma Trade Route.”


    “Query–” Diedrich drawled.


    “Go ahead.”


    “Who will be commanding the Third and Fourth Fleet Groups?”


    “The Third and Fourth have not yet been activated as of this moment,” the Supreme Commander answered, “When they are, General Atticus Farstar will be the acting Commanding Officer of the Third Fleet Group. General Horn Ambigene will be acting Commanding Officer of the Fourth Fleet Group.”


    “Understood,” I leaned down half-way to Hare, “I suppose the Twenty-Eighth Mobile will be paired with the Fourth Fleet Group?”


    “After you remove the Republic presence from Sullust, General Ambigene will reclaim the Rimma Trade Route. I believe your fleet will be attached to the Fourth until Yag’Dhul is liberated.”


    I nodded, before whispering to Hare, “Send the files to Tuff and have him start running simulations. I want at least fifteen posted up to be reviewed while we’re underway.”


    Hare looked down at his datapad, then looked up again, “Fifteen or fifty?”


    I paused, “...Fifty.”


    I continued discussing the preliminary details with Hare for a while longer, with intermittent clarifications supplied by Diedrich and Vinoc. Organising a whole new fleet was complicated work, especially one as diverse as the 28th Mobile Fleet. Over three-hundred warships from backgrounds all across the Near Perlemian. It helped that I was already familiar with many of them, but I still had to compare capabilities and datasets to fit them together into efficient task forces and battle squadrons.


    And I’d rather do that now than in the heat of battle.


    With something to occupy my mind, the rest of the conference went by in daze. Considering my name didn’t come up again, I regarded it as a lucky break.


    “–All files will be transferred, and any specific details can be found with your commanding officers,” the Supreme Commander finally finished, “If there is nothing else… good. You may all return to your vessels. Bonteri, Trilm, please remain for a little longer.”


    …I held in an aggrieved sigh.


    ?


    I forlornly watched Hare leave with Diedrich. The droid wasn’t allowed to stay, and she was more useful putting her computing power to work organising the fleet. The robot bunny glanced at once last time before the blast doors locked shut. Only Sev’rance Tann, Trench, Calli Trilm, and I were left inside the suddenly spacious compartment.


    Calli Trilm kicked her feet onto the table, and clapped loudly, “Let’s talk about coups. How do we overthrow the government? There’s not a cold chance in hell Dooku’s going to allow a peaceful transfer of power.”


    Somewhere faraway, I distantly realised this was the first time Calli decided to speak on her own accord since the meeting began.


    “Three things keep Dooku in power,” Admiral Trench pointedly ignored her, “And they are his control over the economy, military and public perception. We must deprive him of all three if we hope for him to see the futility of resistance.”


    I sat up, realising that they were serious, “His hand over the megacorporation lays on the shadow council in the executive branch of the government. Have we gotten proof of its existence? That alone would be enough to impeach him.”


    “We don’t,” Calli snapped her fingers, “We roughly know the corporations he’s in the pocket of, but no hard evidence of a shadow council. Even the magnates know that once its existence is proven, the Raxus Government would fall upon them with the hammer of god. Finding proof will be more trouble than it''s worth, especially when we can simply lure the corporations to our side. Much safer, and much more beneficial to make new friends than make new enemies.”


    “We already have the Techno Union, thanks to your efforts,” Admiral Trench said, to General Tann’s silent agreement, “The Techno Union has invested far too much into General Tann’s administration, and it did not take much to sway Wat Tambor. This also means we have secured the vast majority of the Confederacy’s military-industry and research and development sectors.”


    “The problem is that the InterGalactic Banking Clan is solidly in Serenno’s sphere of influence,” Sev’rance Tann crossed her arms, “Unlike the Techno Union, the IGBC’s core holdings lay within the New Territories, which are more aligned with Count Dooku’s personal circle than the Raxus Government. I initially requested Admiral Pors Tonith to take the mantle of Admiral of the First Fleet Group, but he denied the invitation. Admiral Kirst, being born in the Tion Cluster, was more loyal to Raxus.”


    That was an issue. It scarcely meant anything if we had the military-industrial complex, but no credits to fund it. The corporate and industrial magnates are not so unpredictable; they were loyal to profit and influence, and credits was the primary medium for both. Until now the Banking Clan has been the Confederacy’s primary sponsor–and the Republic’s primary sponsor, for that matter–and without them the Confederacy could foresee a gaping hole in its budget.


    I said as such; “In that case we need to find a new source of income.”


    “The Corporate Alliance has pledged its support to our bloc,” Trench clicked, “Magistrate Argente and the Alliance Directorate were all too pleased to side against Dooku, especially if they see more influence to gain from it. Even if the Alliance is not as wealthy as the Banking Clan, the funds donated should still be substantial.”


    But it did help that both Admiral Trench and the now Rear Admiral Merai were both once in the employ of the Corporate Alliance. That employment had to undergo a… let’s call it a restructuring, after the Militia Act forbid direct corporate ties within the Armed Forces, just as if forbid direct planetary ties. Reduces favouritism and corruption within the ranks, apparently.


    “It helps that Dooku had gridlocked Passel Argente’s ambitions in the past,” General Tann noted, “Nevertheless, that leaves the Trade Federation, Commerce Guild, Retail Caucus, and Hyper-Communications Cartel.”


    “We must seize the Hyper-Communications Cartel,” I immediately stated, “They operate the CIS Shadowfeed and Confederate HoloNet networks from Murkhana and Ando. I foresee the Trade Federation, Commerce Guild, and Retail Caucus jumping on the bigger, more stable ship.”


    “The primary shareholder and de facto leader of the Hyper-Communications Cartel is Senator Po Nudo of Ando, despite his denials of being directly linked to it,” Calli pointed out, “Doesn’t that mean–”


    “Po Nudo and I do not share a homeworld, Rear Admiral,” Admiral Trench slammed his cane down with a piercing bang! “Nor are we from the same species. I hail from Secundus Ando, an Andoan colony world.”


    Calli lowered her feet, raising her hands in surrender, “I didn’t mean presume anything… nor did I say anything at all?”


    “I am certain Senator Nudo could be convinced to see our point of view,” General Tann said easily, “If not, a company of commando droids can easily seize the communication operations on Murkhana. Not to mention Murkhana City also hosts the Corporate Alliance headquarters after the loss of Koorivar.”


    The implications were clear. The Hyper-Communications Cartel was indeed a megacorporation in its own right, but it paled in comparison to the Corporate Alliance, which was a conglomerate of megacorporations. When the choice was between leaving Dooku’s cabal or being forcefully folded into the Corporate Alliance’s portfolio, the answer was quite obvious.


    “I will speak to the Alliance Directorate,” the Harch Admiral agreed.


    “Very good,” the Supreme Commander swiped the table, introducing a new overlay onto the starmap. One that displayed the concentration of droid forces and number of units active. The number was… well let’s just say there was a significant exponential at the tail end of the figure. “The Militia Act introduced substantially reduced the influence of the Droid Army within the Armed Forces in favour of citizen soldiers, but droid forces still constitute a significant fraction of our active military. And the Executive Office still holds the master codes to every droid unit ever produced.”


    “I’m guessing Dooku won’t give those up if we ask nicely,” I muttered, “Can we engineer an overriding set?”


    “We can program our droids to ignore them,” Calli explained, “We can engineer failsafes. A set of overrides for every officer so they can regain control of their droids. But there’s the chance that said officers forget, lose them, or simply get shot dead by their own droids before they can execute the override.”


    “The vast majority of our battle droids are manufactured by Baktoid Combat Automata, aren’t they?” I wondered aloud, “Can’t we ask the Techno Union to make the old master codes obsolete, and design new ones?”


    “The programming was outsourced,” Admiral Trench answered.


    “To whom?” I demanded.


    “Geonosian Industries.”


    Shit. Geonosian Industries wasn’t a traditional corporation. It was more or less just a front for the Stalgasin Hive to do business with the civilised galaxy. In other words, it wasn’t swayed by profits or politics or shareholders. Everything to do with Geonosian Industries had to go through Poggle the Lesser, the Archduke of Geonosis.


    Why does Poggle the Lesser even support Count Dooku? What motivates him? What motivations can a sentient bug even have?


    “That’s a…” I clicked my tongue, searching for an apt word, “...problem.”


    “We will work on the overrides first. The rest can be dealt with another time,” General Tann decided after a moment’s thought, “Otherwise, I will give you your orders.”


    Precipitous change of subject aside–which was something I’ve come to attribute to Sev’rance Tann by now–I was not expecting another set of commands. Raising an eyebrow, I asked– “Were we not to counterattack up the Rimma Trade Route?”


    “Those are the orders for the Fourth Fleet Group, not the Twenty-Eighth Mobile Fleet,” she explained slowly, as if I was a child.


    I nodded just as slowly. From Calli’s frankly bored expression, it seemed like I was the only person here not in the know, to my mild annoyance. I liked knowing things.


    “So is this about how the memorandum stated the Second Fleet Group’s AO is the Near-Perlemian, but for some reason I’m being deployed to the Galactic South?”


    “Correct,” Admiral Trench took over, impatience present. With his six arms, he skilfully navigated the holoprojection to show two red arrows thrusting deep into the Core Worlds from different directions, “This is Operation Starlance. As you may or may not have noticed, the Nineteenth and Twenty-Eighth Mobile Fleets are the only two of their kind in existence. Your mission is not to capture territory, but to rescue Admiral Dua Ningo.”


    I double-taked, looking at the projection again. The two arrows–one started at Randon in Separatist Space, and proceeded on the Triellen Trade Route towards Commenor, Humbarine, then Sarapin. The second arrow started at Sullust, slashing right up the Rimma Trade Route to Yag’Dhul, Hosnian Prime, and Corellia.


    From the corner of my eye, I witnessed Calli Trilm slowly straighten as she mimicked my sudden stroke of attention, pale-faced as she traced the red arrows. Looks like even though she didn’t know the specifics, to be honest, I could see why Trench and Tann kept it such a close secret. This was, for all meanings of the word, insane. The 28th Mobile had only 320 warships, and I imagined the 19th Mobile to have a similar outline. And now they wanted us to rescue an isolated fleet in the Core Worlds!?


    “Your fleets were designed to sustain themselves on the move, with mobile deepdocks, manufacturing plants, and harvesters,” Admiral Trench continued, “Simultaneously, they are small enough to be strategically manoeuvrable. Your crews are made of the best droids we have to offer, and more importantly, the most veteran crews in the entire galaxy. The Perlemian Coalition had been split between your two fleets. There is no finer fighting force in the Confederacy, and none more familiar with going against near-impossible odds.”


    “Operation Starlance will begin the moment Operation Storm-Door does, to disguise its purpose,” General Tann explained, “By attacking from two directions, we decrease the possibility of interception and increase the chances of finding Admiral Ningo. While acting behind enemy lines, you will be cut off from any communication with the Confederacy, and as such you will be given full operational independence. Any questions?”


    I wetted my lips, a tad too stunned to even speak. Hells, I was still processing the fact that I’m being sent on a suicide mission, again. Not to mention, I will be working with Asajj Ventress… again.


    “Why?” Calli nearly whispered, “Why are we risking all of this for Admiral Ningo?”


    “Because Admiral Ningo was sent to Foerost to oversee the construction of not only a new fleet, but a new class of vessel,” General Tann snapped her fingers, and the projection warped into a 3D schematic a new warship, “The Bulwark-class battlecruiser. It is currently the most advanced warship the Confederacy has on its hands. The secrecy of its construction meant the designs only exist with Admiral Ningo, and the Republic cannot be allowed to obtain them.”


    “Finding Admiral Ningo will also present an opportunity to learn exactly how Dooku manages to communicate with his contacts in the Core,” Admiral Trench added, “Furthermore, bringing him to our side might just gain us a veteran fleet admiral as well as the support of the SoroSuub Corporation–just another reason why lifting the Siege of Sullust is so important to our cause.”


    “How are we so certain Admiral Ningo hasn’t already been defeated?” I inquired, trying my best to seem composed, “It has already been a week. And it will be weeks more before we arrive. And even then, we still have to find him.”


    “Because Admiral Ningo is still rampaging through the Core Worlds, Rear Admiral,” Trench pressured, “And the Republic HoloNet is so graciously documenting his every step. If he was defeated, the entire galaxy would know about it. If you find yourself too late, you may withdraw at your leisure. If not, expend every effort to search and retrieve–or should that prove impossible–destroy every last trace of the Bulwarks from existence.”


    I stood up, gripping the table tightly. Sev’rance Tann raised a well-defined eyebrow in expectation. For a moment, I stared into Trench’s six unblinking eyes–only to lose my nerve and break away.


    The Confederacy chooses its admirals and generals based on fear factor, seems like.


    I saluted, “Orders received.”


    “Orders received,” Calli repeated.


    General Tann smiled, and her hologram disappeared.


    Admiral Trench stood up slowly, “Every file relevant to Operation Storm-Door has already been transmitted to your flagships. As for Operation Starlance, the both of you will only receive oral orders from me directly. This includes the beginning of Starlance, and when you are allowed to inform your crews of its existence. Until then; dismissed.”


    As if on his word, the blast doors groaned open, allowing a flood of clinical yellow light into the conference room. Calli marched out silently, almost petulantly, and I followed close behind her.


    “This will only be the second time the Confederacy pierces the Core Worlds,” I said to fill the silence as we walked towards the turbolift, “Looks like the Pantoran wants us to follow in her footsteps. Hell, you will be tracing her previous raid right up until Sarapin.”


    Calli remained silent. Our footsteps were gradually accompanied with the steel cadence of droid patrols and roving parties of Andoan engineers and technicians. Here and there, were crossed paths with knots of Koorivar Fusiliers, the elite marines of the Corporate Alliance.


    From behind her, I noticed a considerable few more streaks of white hair in her tight military bun.


    “Like old times, huh?” I sighed.


    Calli slowed down, wordlessly allowing me to walk beside her, “...Let’s talk on the way down.”


    The turbolift lobby came into view, and then the small gathering of officers waiting there, painstakingly staring at the deck numbers tick upwards on the overhead display. Calli and I walked past it, somehow coming to the same conclusion that we’ll use the maintenance shaft that goes straight to the hangar bays.


    I hummed in agreement.