Coruscant, Coruscant System


    Corusca Sector


    Jedi Master Adi Gallia, despite being the Jedi Council’s official liaison to the Republic Senate and observer to the Chancellor’s Advisory Council, didn’t at all prefer the day-to-day tedium of politicking in the Administrative District. One might think being the acting spymaster of ‘Jedi Intelligence’ to be an exciting affair, but in truth, the role was an awfully banal one.


    It wasn’t always this way, of course. At its inception, Gallia’s personal spy network was just that; personal. She originally founded it using her family’s connections, despite how antithetical that might sound to the Temple’s central dogma, with the intention of creating a shadow organisation to cover for the Council’s many blindspots. Adi Gallia would not be one to discredit Master Yoda and his undeniably wise stewardship of the Temple, but it was the unsaid truth that Yoda was the root cause of many of the Order’s problems.


    When a central figure has been in power of an organisation for nearly four-hundred years, it was unavoidable that said organisation would evolve around that central figure, being shaped in their image for good or ill. Again, the Order could have had much worse than Master Yoda, and as far as long-lived Grandmasters go, they were quite fortunate to have him. However, the faults of such a system were poignant and obvious if you knew where to look.


    Unfortunately, not even the esteemed Master Yoda could be in power for so long without getting comfortable. Complacent. Complacent with the stagnation of the Jedi Order, and complacent with the evils of the Republic. Live alongside corruption for too long, and you no longer notice the stench. Master Yoda has had four-hundred years to get used to the smell.


    Adi Gallia considered herself fortunate. She was born to a family of diplomats, and her Force-sensitivity had not been ‘discovered’ until she was advanced enough in age to be aware of her own circumstances. One of the joys of being an ageless Tholothian. She had not been raised in Yoda’s shadow like much of the Temple, and rather entered it with a prior point of reference. And the realisation she had then was the fount of her spy network.


    She was not the only one to notice the problems with the Jedi Order, of course. Prior to the war, there had been hundreds, chief among them then-Master Dooku. But the problem with becoming a legend was that you became legendary, and Yoda had earned an almost mythical status with the Jedi Temple. Even if you noticed the stench of bantha shit in the kitchen, you wouldn’t say anything if the head chef didn’t point it out, because obviously the head chef knew best. Much less a head chef who’s been head chef for four centuries, and prior to that a line chef for many more. What was a Padawan, Knight, or Master to say, when they’ve lived in Yoda’s shadow for their entire lives?


    Even a younger Adi Gallia was implicit in that mistake, for she had never disclosed the existence of her network. Because obviously the Jedi Council, led by Master Yoda, would have forced her to shut it down. So she kept her head low, quietly expanding her network throughout Coruscant under the guise of accepting planetside missions, then towards the stars, and picking up a reputation as a Jedi politician and diplomat as she did so.


    By the time of the Stark Hyperspace War, the Temple had picked up a certain modus operandi. When Jedi were dispatched for peacekeeping missions, the idea was to talk first and solve the problem diplomatically, and if that failed, out came the lightsabers. It was simple and direct. But out of sight, Gallia took it one step further–to deal with the problem before it ever came to the table of the High Council. Thus saving the trouble and the effort. By then, her intelligence network had grown so large it could no longer be kept hidden, but by then it had also grown so integral to the Temple’s operations that not even the High Council could publicly acknowledge–and denounce–the open secret.


    And throughout it all, restless Jedi continued to squirm in the shadow of Master Yoda, as megacorporations filled the power vacuum left by the Hyperspace War, as the Republic continued to tolerate and foster all the little cumulative evils in the galaxy. Until a single Jedi Master reached his breaking point, and declared the founding of the Separatist State in a fiery speech over Raxus Prime. And hundreds of Padawans, Knights, and Masters flocked to his cause, his alternative, because they had been chafing beneath Yoda’s shadow for so long just waiting for someone to have the guts to point out the stench.


    It was only in the blazing fires of the Clone Wars, did her personal network burgeon into Jedi Intelligence out of necessity. Especially since Republic Intelligence remained less than forthcoming about sharing what they knew with the Order. For Adi Gallia, it meant an explosion of managerial affairs to occupy her attention. Fieldwork, as it seemed, was now a thing of a bygone past when she still had the luxury of handpicking her agents and personally seeding future contacts.


    The Tholothian Master’s internal musings were interrupted by the vibration of her comlink, the cheerful chime muffled by her flowing robes.


    “Gallia speaking.”


    “Are you alone?” was the first thing she heard in Bode Akuna’s voice.


    Adi Gallia glanced up, at the bustling halls of the Senate Building, and raised a protective bubble of the Force around her, muting all sound from within for the outside. It was a nifty trick she picked up, and useful in these sorts of circumstances.


    “Speak.”


    “Admiral Trilm just invaded the Core Worlds. The Commenorian Navy was unable to stop her.”


    “I’ve heard,” the Jedi Master replied calmly, “The Chancellor just summoned an emergency Advisory Council meeting, of which I am presently on route to.”


    “...And the Battle Hydra is missing?”


    There was a serious undertone that made Gallia pause, “...Missing is one way to put it.”


    “...I see. I want to confirm something.”


    “What is it?” the Jedi Master skillfully manoeuvred through the traffic, ensuring nobody got close enough to enter her Force bubble.


    “Where was Anakin Skywalker at the Battle of Yag’Dhul?”


    “What are you talking about? He was at Yag’Dhul, fighting the battle with the Open Circle,” Adi Gallia lied.


    In truth, Anakin Skywalker informed the Temple he was pursuing Asajj Ventress shortly before the battle began in earnest. Of course, such news couldn’t be broken to the Republic Navy Command without shock and outrage. A commanding Jedi General, abandoning the battle space to pursue a personal rivalry? Preposterous! And if Jedi Command tried to defend his actions, the interdisciplinary rift in the GAR would only be further deepened.


    Thus, it was considered prudent that such news would only be broken in the after-action report, where the news of victory would water down any flaring tempers. Because a victory was expected; three battle fleets against a single Separatist task force? The very idea of a potential defeat was just as insane as the idea of Anakin Skywalker abandoning a battle before it even began.


    Except, the Battle Hydra once again did his terrible magic, and the Republic Navy was dealt another defeat, one comparable to the Battle of Christophsis. Fortunately, the scale of the defeat meant news was slow to trickle upstream to Coruscant. General Brand and Admiral Jerjerrod were killed in action, while Governor-General Grant’s AAR mentioned how contact had been lost between the three fleets early in the battle. Finally, Admiral Yularen’s AAR came, and merely mentioned the victory at Llon Nebula and the closing actions of the Battle of Yag’Dhul.


    Nothing that overtly stated Anakin Skywalker’s actions. Instead, the Republic Navy Command focused on Octavian Grant’s preposition that the Separatist 4th Fleet Group was aiming for an invasion of the Southern Core. It wasn’t a prediction without merit, for Admiral Calli Trilm had just broken the cracked fortress world Commenor like an egg. It was also a truly terrifying prediction, for a southern invasion would mean the monster known as the Tombmaker was about to be unleashed upon the Galactic Interior.


    Regardless, Admiral Yularen must’ve been well-aware of the conflict between the Republic Navy and Jedi Command, and decided it prudent to not mention anything that could worsen the situation. It was the Order’s saving grace, anyhow, and it meant only Jedi Command knew where Anakin Skywalker really was during the Battle of Yag’Dhul, for now.


    “...I need the truth this time, Master Gallia,” Bode Akuna said urgently, “I need to know whether we''re dealing with a credible threat or not.”


    Gallia’s lips thinned, “Is this Republic Intelligence knowledge?”


    “From an apparently reliable source. But I need to know whether it is a threat to us,” Bode put heavy emphasis on the word ‘need.’


    “Where does it say Skywalker was?”


    “...Llon Nebula.”


    “Can you destroy the report?” the Jedi Master was extraordinarily calm, but the simple question was enough to inform Bode Akuna of the credibility of the source.


    “...No point. It’s already been disseminated,” he replied hesitantly, “I’d only be raising suspicions. Master… this means–”


    “I know what this means–” concrete proof Republic Intelligence had a mole in the Jedi Temple, “–just tell me the codename of the threat.”


    “...Republic Intelligence calls it the Delta Source.”


    “Copy. Keep an eye on it, but don’t try to intercept unless it’s especially damning for the Order. I trust your judgement.”


    “Got it. I’ll try to dig up any leads on the Delta Source in the meantime.”


    She shut the connection, pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly. Always one thing after another on Coruscant. But one more weight on the mind also meant one step closer to the Sith Lord, and at least Bode managed to discover the existence of the Delta Source before the news got into the hands of the Republic Navy. That was a mercy, no matter how small. Less than ideal, but Gallia could now at least prepare for the debate and set up a credible defence, rather than be blindsided in the courts.


    What concerned her more was just how rooted this Delta Source was in the Temple. And whether it also knew about the truth of the recent ‘terrorist attack’. Considering the Jedi Order hadn’t been dissolved, likely not. So Delta Source wasn’t present in the funerary halls. Good to know. I’ll also have to expand the scope of our usual counterintelligence sweeps. She mentally indexed the Delta Source away for a later, if crucial, point of investigation.


    Making her way through the winding corridors of the Senate Building towards the Chancellor’s Suite, sharing benign smiles with the staffers she crossed paths with. She recognised some, talked with others, but had never been able to penetrate Sly Moore’s staff. The Senior Administrative Aide’s ministry was simply too tightly guarded, and the Umbaran’s eyes were everywhere. Sly Moore seemed to have a gift for reading people, even the most veteran of spies, and Master Gallia suspected there might be a hint of Force-sensitivity involved.


    Further, if circumstantial, proof that their mysterious Dark Lord of the Sith was a member of the Executive Office. And as she was welcomed into the Chancellor’s Office by the pale white visage of Sly Moore, she came face to face with her prime suspect–


    Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself.


    It was hard to believe such an audacious claim, even as the person who made the claim, as Palpatine had never shown any signs of the general darkness that seemed to hang around the Sith. They didn’t even have any proof he was even Force-sensitive. Sly Moore, at least, could be proven to be Force-sensitive. But Chancellor Palpatine?


    Except, Adi Gallia had reason to believe that Palpatine was, if not the Sith Lord, then at least another one of their pawns, like Sly Moore. And she had reason to believe he was indeed Force-sensitive to some degree. And, in a fateful stroke of irony, it was the Battle Hydra who helped her prove her hypothesis. See, the man known as Rain Bonteri was an anathema to the Force, born with a peculiar trait known as ‘Force Blankness’, in which a living entity seems to be fully nonexistent in the Force. It was a rare and nearly unheard of phenomena, of which had only been encountered once before in the last century in the form of the son of a fallen Jedi, who went by Granta Omega.


    It took eight Jedi to hunt that one down.


    Nevertheless, having such a trait meant one’s presence and name would often slip from the mind and memory of a Force-sensitive, particularly if it was a strong Force-sensitive, not dissimilarly to water off a duck’s back. There were ways to circumvent the issue, of course, such as remembering a sobriquet not directly tied to the individual–such as Battle Hydra–or simply by keeping journals or notes as an amnesiac would. But to do that, one would have to first recognise the importance of such a void-like individual in the first place.


    Rain Bonteri’s name was not foreign to the Republic Navy or Republic Intelligence. In fact, they had the sort of reputation for being the Pantoran’s hard counter to Jedi-commanded fleets, in the naval arena. Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Plo Koon and Saesee Tiin, arguably Oppo Rancisis… and now Rees Alrix and Empatojayos Brand have been added to their personal portfolio.


    And yet… Palpatine isn’t able to remember the name ‘Rain Bonteri.’ Gallia first noticed the fact when she was prodding his mind for any reaction to the name, shortly before the Seven Battles at Sullust, when she warned Skywalker and his Padawan of the threat the Hydra posed to Knight Alrix.


    Jedi Master Adi Gallia made no show of her internal musings as she respectfully bowed before the Supreme Chancellor and his gathered audience, whose esteemed members included the permanent fixtures of Sly Moore and Mas Amedda, along with Armand Isard, and other members of the Loyalist Committee; including but not limited to Shayla Paige-Tarkin, Jannie Ha’Nook, Mon Mothma, Canny Bertar, and Bail Organa.


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    “Forgive my tardiness,” she smoothed her robes and stepped to the side of the office, observing the faces and atmosphere present as she did so.


    It was tense, as tense as one might expect from the news that there was a second Separatist fleet in the Core. Or… it might be the stiff and wiry presence of one Governor-General Kohl Seerdon, Commanding Officer of the 3rd Sector Army.


    “I do not see how this is a matter of debate!?” Senator Jannie Ha’Nook of Glithnos was evidently furious, her face flushed with anger and panic, and she hardly even acknowledged the Jedi Master’s entrance, “We need to recall our reserve fleets! What is the point of going on the offensive if the Core will cease to exist whence they return!?”


    Glithnos was a Core World, situated right along the Hydian Way, just north of Fedalle. It was directly within the warpath of the 19th Mobile Fleet… in fact–


    “Separatist ships are in the Glithnos System as we speak!” she yelled furiously, at Armand Isard in particular, “First the Bulwark Fleet, now the Perlemian Coalition! What has Republic Intelligence been doing!? I, of all people, have the right to demand answers!”


    “This is as much the fault of Republic Intelligence as it is the Open Circle Fleet, or the Commenorian Navy,” Armand Isard replied coolly, “Or does the honourable Senator expect me to personally lead a warfleet against Calli Trilm? We give intelligence, Senator, not orders. After the Sarapin Campaign, we have recommended that Commenor be equipped with everything they need to prevent another incursion like this.”


    “Evidently, you didn’t recommend enough,” Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila commented dryly, eliciting a scoff from Kohl Seerdon, her countryman.


    Ire crossed the Intelligence Director’s expression, “We did not account for the Separatists equipping their gravitational superweapon to their battlecruisers.”


    “Is that not Republic Intelligence’s very role?” Adi Gallia took her own bite, and chewed on it, “Last I heard, Separatist warships have been observed in close to over twenty Core systems along the Commenor Run and Hydian Way. Or have you been focused too much on internal intelligence, Director? Oh, on that note– what of the terrorist attack on the military satellites? Have you apprehended the culprits?”


    One might argue it would be unwise for the very mastermind of the act to taunt the investigator, but Adi Gallia found it equally unwise to tiptoe around an issue that so obviously should garner the Jedi Order’s attention.


    “Did the preliminary investigation not conclude the primary suspects to be lightsaber-wielders?” Gallia pressed even further, “Are these not grounds for the Jedi Order to participate in the ongoing investigation, as the attack was almost certainly perpetrated by one of Dooku’s Dark Acolytes?”


    “Republic Intelligence and Homeworld Security will root out the Separatist cells that aided the terrorist attack,” Armand Isard met her glare, “We have already traced the freighter used to ferry the terrorists back to the owner. All that remains is to convince the Separatist cells to tell us who they loaned it to. We will find which of Dooku’s pawns are hiding in the Underworld.”


    So that’s your progress on the investigation, Gallia confirmed, and I was right to presume your Temple mole was not Bode Akuna or Iskat Akaris. Good. Time to lead Homeworld Security on a wild goose chase. She had, after all, launched a black market operation to get contraband lightsabers and Separatist weapons into just about every Underworld cell, warlord, and shadow state she could access. And thanks to her planet-spanning network she had cultivated for decades, Jedi Master Adi Gallia had her fingers in just about every pie there was in the Underworld.


    There was also the contents of the seized datafile; a Separatist broadcast proclaiming revolution in the Core Worlds. The picture painted for Republic Intelligence would be… pointed. One of Dooku’s agents was on Coruscant, contacting Separatist cells and Underworld kingpins and feeding them weapons and equipment for a war. Then the terrorist attack that was meant to broadcast an inciting speech, capable of reaching all the disparate and unorganised Underworlder states in order to synchronise a planet-wide uprising. Homeworld Security will have their hands full cracking down on the undercity, to say the least.


    “Enough of this!” the Chagrian Speaker, Mas Amedda boomed, “We must not be divided, here and now. Evidently, Calli Trilm is already running rings around us uninhibited while we’re busy chasing our own tails!”


    “An option is to simply let Calli Trilm continue running rings,” Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan suggested, almost treasonously, “She will be hard-pressed to find a Core World without a planetary shield.”


    Chancellor Palpatine shook his head grimly as Mas Amedda said; “Your pacifism will find no purchase here, Senator Organa.”


    “I must disagree, Bail,” even Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila disapproved, “You can only utter those words because Alderaan is too powerful to be a target of the Perlemian Coalition. We can turtle up–and allow Calli Trilm free rein over our traderoutes and spacelanes. Moreover, planets may have shields, but they do not extend to orbital and system installations. Look at what happened here on Coruscant. A star system’s worth isn’t defined by its capital world, but the sum total of all the infrastructure and credits invested into it over hundreds of years.”


    “Calli Trilm wants our worlds to raise their shields,” Kohl Seerdon agreed with his Senator, “This was exactly what she was aiming for as a Commenor as well. Planetary shields are two-way installations. If nothing can get it, it also means nothing can get out.”


    “We need to react,” Senator Shayla Paige-Tarkin’s hoarse voice was powerful and severe. Ever since the loud–and loud was an understatement–tirade she made before the Republic Senate following the Devastation of Eriadu, her voice had been stuck in a deep, rasping tone that never quite recovered.


    These days, her presence was a rare sight, even in the Grand Convocation Chamber. Senator Paige-Tarkin spent most of her waking hours contacting surviving Eriaduans and diasporas throughout the galaxy and creating a new government-in-exile in the hopes of one day returning to their homeworld. Adi Gallia both pitied and respected her for it; with the current state of Eriadu, bleak and ruined and overrun with self-replicating droid factories, it would honestly be easier to simply find a new world to settle.


    “Even with… control… of the media,” Senator Paige-Tarkin continued, speaking carefully, “There’s no eliminating the unrest, only mitigating. Two Separatist fleets are now in the Core Worlds, our backyard, and good Loyalist citizens live every day in fear of their lives. We can’t hide it forever. The HoloNet can censor as much as it likes, but all it takes is one enterprising citizen to look through a telescope and spot a Separate Hex in orbit. Coruscant and Eriadu are still fresh in the minds of every man, woman, and child in the Galactic Interior. Everyone believes they could be next to meet that fate.”


    Senator Paige-Tarkin took a deep breath–a harsh, scraping sound that pierced the ears; “This Administration will not last much longer if we do not react promptly, and with facility. I concur with Jannie. We must recall the fleets from the frontier. We must prioritise our main support base over all. We cannot fight a war while the foundation beneath our feet crumbles.”


    The Tholothian Jedi observed the Supreme Chancellor carefully, freely running her presence over his mental landscape. It was a light touch, but should he be Force-sensitive, then he was undoubtedly noticing her actions. And if he was the Sith Lord indeed, then Adi Gallia relished in the fact he couldn’t so much as even react without blowing his cover, feigning ignorance all the while. Knowing the premier trait of all Sith being unparalleled arrogance, she both found humour, and a little note of admiration, in how well he was composing his surface-level thoughts.


    It must be a frustrating affair for him. Admiral Dua Ningo and the Bulwark Fleet was convenient for maintaining a level of fear in the Core Worlds, giving him justification to further concentrate power in his office. Two fleets, however, would be well out of hand. With the Reserve Armada deployed to the frontier, there was little left to defend the Core Worlds save the 5th Deep Core Reserve and the Home Defense Fleet. Speaking of the Home Fleet…


    “Where is Admiral Honor Salima?” the Chancellor demanded, “Has the Bulwark Fleet been dealt with?”


    All eyes pointed to Armand Isard, who cleared his throat and straightened his collar, “The Bulwark Fleet had fled to Skako for safe haven and repairs. The Home Fleet is currently cracking open Skako’s planetary shields.”


    Skako, homeworld of the Skakoans and the Techno Union, and one of the most populous ecumenopoleis in the Core Worlds, with a pre-war census placing the industrious world at just over one-hundred billion souls. The figure was so vast mostly because there was hardly any emigration off the world–or immigration for that matter. Because Skako possessed a high pressure methane-based atmosphere, much unlike the nitrogen-based Type I atmospheres present in most habitable worlds. As a result, Skako’s population was completely Skakoan, and any offworld influence the planet had was concentrated solely in the hands of the Techno Union. This was the reason all Skakoans in the wider galaxy can only be found in pressure suits filled with noxious mixes of methane and hydrogen sulphide.


    “We have been cracking open Skako’s shields–along with all the other Separatist holdouts in the Core–for the entire duration of the war!” Senator Ha’Nook exclaimed, “Surely they must be close to giving out by now?”


    “Admiral Honor projects that to be the case,” Director Isard agreed, “I fear she will be adamant about finishing off her prey before accepting any new orders.”


    “That’s grounds for treason,” Kohl Seerdon’s eyes gleamed, clearly wondering whether he could take advantage of such a case, “She would be mutinying against the state.”


    “Honor Salima is untouchable,” Adi Gallia put his ambitions in the dust with a single statement, “And she knows it. Charge her with mutiny, and what happens? How many noble scions, Core World elites, careerist sons, or simply upper caste gloryhounds serve in the Home Fleet? The moment we declare her a mutineer, one of two things happen; we declare almost every elite clan in the Core traitorous, or she holds the entire Core hostage. Admiral Honor might be hard, but she’s not stupid. She’s only acting the way she is because she has the support of the noble clans.”


    “Some of my relatives serve in the Home Fleet as officers,” Mon Mothma proved her point rather demurely.


    “The Home Fleet has a significant Seswennan diaspora,” Senator Paige-Tarkin agreed, “The loyalty of Admiral Honor must not become a point of contest.”


    Once again, Adi Gallia found it equal parts amusing and horrifying how easily even the likes of Mon Mothma spoke about the subversion of the state and military. This was, unfortunately, another harsh reality of war. The Grand Army of the Republic needs funding, badly, and it gets the funding it needs from the support and goodwill of many prominent Core World clans and families. Prominent clans and families whose members and children disproportionately serve in the Home Fleet.


    Because the Home Fleet was meant to be a safe, reservist sinecure. Meant to be.


    “...Is the Fifth Deep Core unable to ward off the Perlemian Coalition’s Armada too?” Chancellor Palpatine looked around, desperation clear in his eyes. How much of it was an act, Gallia did not know. But even a Sith Lord would be panicking now. The war was real, and it was here.


    “...Chancellor,” Governor-General Kohl Seerdon stepped forward, even to the point of brushing aside Armand Isard. Tall and wiry, the man towered over the assemblage, “Allow me to present my point of view, as a military man. Calli Trilm is wielding irregular warfare to its greatest effect, orchestrating hit-and-fades across the Arrowhead. No single fleet can contend with this. The only solution is constant and consistent patrols of our spacelanes. Moreover, all of our systems must also possess sufficient garrison fleets to ward off any raid.”


    Seerdon’s eyes darted to Isard, then Paige-Tarkin, then back to the Chancellor, “The Deep Core Reserve can accomplish one, but not both. It was never meant to. The role of garrisoning star systems was supposed to fall upon local system fleets and navies, while common patrols remained the responsibility of the national judiciary and military. The recent Reformation Directive introduced by this very office, however, along with the Nationalisation Bill introduced by Senator Paige-Tarkin, effectively stripped all local defence forces in the Core of their independence and attached them to their respective Sector Armies. Sector Armies that are now campaigning on the frontlines.”


    The implication of ‘you did this!’ hung heavily around the Kohl Seerdon, who was visibly trembling with almost euphoric pleasure at the squirming of the politicians around him. Politicians who had time and time again stifled the authority of the Governor-Generals and bedevilled the Republic Navy with regulations and, Force-forbid, rules. It was satisfying to see their comeuppance, however, Gallia had to admit.


    Kohl Seerdon whipped around, as if daring someone–anyone–to disagree with him. Nobody did.


    “If you want to convince the Core Worlds that the Republic is not a sinking ship, Chancellor,” Seerdon emphasised each and every word slowly, purposefully, “Then it is in our best interest to put the authority of the armies and fleets back into the hands of people who know what they’re doing. The Separatists are poking holes in our ship, and we must patch it up, even if it means taking materials from other sections of the same ship. Recall the fleets.”


    “I will…” Palpatine scanned the room, wetting his pale lips. As his gaze met Gallia’s, the Tholothian Jedi shot him a nondescript smile, “...I will make my decision based on the conclusion of the Strategic Planning Amphitheatre.”


    General Seerdon nodded sharply and decisively, “Very good, Chancellor! Now, Director, what of our missing Admiral Bonteri? Octavian Grant claims the terrible Tombmaker intends to invade the Tapani Federation? Surely our Admiral Bonteri would love to accompany him?”


    “Republic Intelligence suspects Admiral Bonteri’s fleet had been sent forward into into the Southern Core to scout for vectors of invasion,” Director Isard started, “However–”


    “We’ve seen ne’er skin nor scale of the Hydra,” Senator Canny Mandary Bertar of Mrlsst interrupted, “If he went anywhere, it is not the Tapani Federation.”


    The previous Senator for the Tapani Federation was a Human Fondorian named Rodd, before he led Fondor in seceding from the Republic. Swift to make up for their disgrace, the Tapani Federation hastily sent their new senator–the Mrlssi Canny Bertar–to replace their traitorous one on Coruscant. With Fondor back in Loyalist hands, however, Gallia idly wondered what had become of Senator Rodd.


    “As for the Tombmaker,” the Mrlssi Senator’s colourful feathers rustled, “The League of Tapani Freeworlds are ready and waiting for him. Alongside the Twentieth Sector Fleet, the Freeworlds Common Navy has been mobilised upon General Grant’s request, for a total of twelve-hundred assorted warships, including over a two-hundred capital ships.”


    “...General Ambigene’s Fourth Fleet Group possesses fifteen-hundred ships by our last count,” Armand noted, “And they are currently fighting both the Second and Nineteenth Armadas on the Rimma Trade Route.”


    Adi Gallia perked up. The League of Tapani Freeworlds was the alliance of the Southern Core–not dissimilar to the Commonality of the Perlemian Trade Route–dominated by and large by the Tapani Federation. In fact, the Tapani Freeworlds were mostly Tapani colonies on the periphery of the Tapani Sector, including Fondor, Ghorman, and Thyferra. This was a point of interest for the Jedi spymaster, as should the Sith Lord fail to give up his grip over the Republic without a fight, civil war would certainly be a possibility she had to give serious consideration.


    And the Tapani Federation would be one of the few autonomous polities willing to fight against the Coruscant government should push come to shove. They were already effectively semi-independent, considering their high levels of autonomy. The Military Nationalisation Bill hardly even affected them, which, considering the situation, might have been their saving grace.


    The Tapani Nobles were simply too powerful and distant for Coruscant to take head on. The current Galactic Republic existed on the concept that membership was preferable to independence, and for most star systems and sectors, that was simply the case. They couldn’t survive without the Republic. If the Republic was controlled by the Sith Lord, then most worlds would simply follow the Sith Lord.


    But not the Tapani Federation and Tapani Freeworlds by extension. They had an independent political system, economic foundation, and military, not to mention large enough to be self-sufficient. They were one of the few polities in the Galactic Republic that could secede without any immediate ramifications, and that made them worth courting, if worse comes to worst. It was also an additional boon that Octavian Grant had met the Battle Hydra in combat, and gained all the insight that came with it.


    “Horn Ambigene might just decide it wouldn’t be worth the effort to invade anymore,” Bail Organa mused, “Might we consider that Rain Bonteri has been redeployed to some other front of the war?”


    “Before his grip of Yag’Dhul is even secure?” Jannie Ha’Nook raised an eyebrow, “I find that difficult to believe.”


    “...”


    A sudden, sweeping silence filled the Chancellor’s Office, to everyone’s surprise. Usually, at this point, Director Armand Isard would have had something enlightening to say, either in support or rebuke. Instead, the Director in question was occupied by something truly severe on his datapad, by the shape of his expression.


    “Is something the matter, Director?” Chancellor Palpatine asked in concern.


    Slowly, a stone-faced Armand Isard leaned to the Chancellor’s ear, and whispered something. And the Supreme Chancellor’s eyes widened, his skin paling to unhealthy levels as the lines on his face deepened into crevices.


    Adi Gallia stood straighter, “What happened?”


    Isard looked at the Chancellor, who had rested his elbows on his desk, rubbing his aged hands together tiredly as he stared despondently at his lap. Then, Palpatine nodded.


    The Director of Republic Intelligence coughed, “Separatist warships have been spotted on the Koros Trunk Line, originating from the Deep Core. All seven worlds of the Empress Teta System have declared for the Separatist State. All signs point to… a second fleet has invaded the Core.”