Chapter 12

Raxus Secundus, Raxus System

Caluula Sector

The Onderonian Embassy on Raxus could be found on the far fringes of Raxulon, the planetary capital. Accessible either by a short shuttle flight, or a winding road trip through the wooded hills, the Embassy was built atop of a rocky promontory overlooking the rest of the city. Built like a gothic mansion, the building looked especially eerie at dusk, surrounded by the whispering autumn forests.

Strange, for an embassy, yes–but if you wanted to get the Onderon experience on Raxus, then this was the closest you were going to get. I never liked the estate back on Onderon, and I never liked this place either.

I arrived at a bad time, because there was already a transport on the landing pad, so I directed my shuttle pilot to just drop me off at the edge and enter a holding pattern. I stepped over the perilous gap, and found my footing soon after. Ducking under the wing of the transport, I curiously eyed the build in an attempt to identify the owner.

I didn’t have to, because I found Senator Avi Singh coming down the staircase leading up to the Embassy right after. The well-aged man was completely bald, sporting a rather glorious moustache that strung from his greying hair, which was already more white than anything.

Waiting at the bottom of the staircase out of respect more than anything else, I noticed that the Senator from Raxus had grown more rotund since we last met, and had to use the balustrade to support himself.

“Senator Singh,” I greeted, “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

Senator Singh looked at me in surprise, before raising his head to glance past me–likely at my shuttle circling overhead.

“Not at all, I was just coming out the door. Nevermind that, I must have inconvenienced you,” the Senator scampered down the last rows of steps, “But it is a pleasurable surprise to see you again, Rain.”

“Please,” I grasped his hand, “I never sent word of my arrival beforehand, so you couldn’t have known. In fact, I am quite surprised by my presence here myself.”

Avi Singh grinned beneath his moustache, “Indeed. I was under the impression you were still deployed in Abrion. Will you remain on Raxus for long? I would love to have a chat over tea, at a better time than this.”

“That will definitely be in order,” I laughed, “Yes, I will be on Raxus for some time as I assemble a new fleet.”

“A new fleet, you say?”

There was a spark of intrigue in the Senator’s eye at my words, that told me he wanted to know more about the reason. Of course he did–despite my efforts in distancing myself from politics, I was still peripherally involved due to my name alone. He was ultimately a politician, and politicians traded in secrets. Every snippet of information can give him an upperhand in Parliament–and something as significant as a shiny new fleet?

“I can’t say much, unfortunately,” I smiled apologetically, “I hope you understand.”

“No no, of course,” Senator Singh waved his hand, “Don’t let the politician get in your way… but if you encounter some pushback from interest groups, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“I will keep that in mind, Senator,” I paused, “I shouldn’t take any more of your time–you are a busy man. Have a good night, sir.”

“You as well, officer,” he patted my shoulder, before moving on.

I remained still as his guards walked past me–and when they were finally behind me, I broke into a satisfied smile. Score. What a fortunate encounter. After all, what was leaking some maybe-confidential secrets in exchange for a much easier job? Half the military was already doing it–making a business out of it, rather–and Senator Singh, the representative of this very star sector? I could shiver in delight.

My smile bled away as I considered the next senator I had to meet.

I reached the huge doors just as the senatorial transport blasted off behind him, repulsorlifts whining as the craft raced back towards downtown. I cracked my neck, loosened my shoulders, lowered my expectations, and opened the doors.

“…Master Rain?” a high-pitched, synthesised voice said in surprise.

I instinctively stepped back, trying to find the source.

“Down here, sir!”

I looked down– “Oh, it’s just you. Hello, Hare.”

Hare was a LEP servant droid, with her egg-shaped chassis and the pair of rabbit ear-like antennas that she was named after. Hare was holding a tray of drinks, and after a brief moment of hesitation, held it up to offer a glass.

“Thank you,” I gratefully picked one to soothe my parched throat, before rubbing her head, “How have you been?”

“Very well, sir,” she cooed, “Should I prepare your room?”

“No need,” I said, “I won’t be staying this time. Can you lead me to Mina?”

Hare’s ears drooped, “This way, Master Rain.”

As we strolled out of the foyer, past the staffers, and into the actual residence, I pondered on what to do with Hare. After my parents’ accident, I moved in with Mina and her husband, and lived with them ever since. Or rather, until they moved to Coruscant for senatorial duties, leaving me to look after the estate in Iziz while I served in the Royal Army. When the war broke out, we reunited back in Raxulon. In this house.

Which came with the LEP droid, who I found adorable. The first thing I did was name her Hare, because remembering a droll alphanumerical wasn’t for me. She seemed to like it, so it stuck. Artificial intelligence was a big thing back on Earth, which is why I always take care to treat whatever droids I come across like another person. That didn’t exactly translate to this galaxy, I discovered, because Lux was the only other person in the household to refer to Hare by her name.

Which is stupid, in my opinion. For some reason when these aliens give machines quasi-sentient personalities, they never quite realise the implications that arise due to it.

“Tell you what,” I said, “We’ll ask Mina if I can take you. If she says yes, you can come with me.”

I’ll need an assistant anyway, now that I’m a flag officer. I’m not going to use Tuff or any other Class 4 droid for that, and employing Vinoc or Barriss doesn’t exactly seem safe.

“Really?” Hare glanced up at me.

“Really,” I pushed open a door, entering a drawing room.

The ornate windows to my left were pushed open a sliver, leading in a refreshing breeze that keened and whistled as it winnowed into the lounge. Almost like a wind chime. Outside, I could make out the glowing lanterns of the pavilion, squat in the centre of an Onderon-style garden–because of course there was one–and the buzzing insects that were drawn in by them.

“You’ve returned,” Mina barely looked at me, occupied by her tablet, “Lux will be here shortly, so the hot water’s on. Don’t use all of it.”

“Let’s save it for him,” I sat on the couch opposite her armchair, shrugging off my overcoat and laying it over the backrest, “I’m only visiting.”

That caught her attention. The Senator from Onderon was a stern-faced woman with short-cropped brown hair that was greying at the fringes. Despite the signs of age–or stress–Mina Bonteri still possessed the hawkish eyes and severe tone that made her people stop and listen when she spoke.

Mina finally dragged her eyes off the tablet, “This is your house.”

I snagged the sleeve of my overcoat, showing her the plaque stitched onto the shoulder, “I have business in the city, so I bought an apartment downtown.”

She frowned, “How long is your stay?”

Until the Republic launches its offensive, I wanted to answer, which could be in a week, or in months. What matters is that we are caught by surprise, and I, as the ranking officer in the sector, has to be hastily mobilised into action. But I couldn’t tell her that, obviously.

“Until I am redeployed,” I answered half-honestly, “But I’ll be visiting some nearby systems too, so I won’t be on Raxus the entire time.”

I had my work cut out for me. Separatist officers were extremely independent, and those deployed on the Perlemian were especially prideful. Not many were going to listen to a human from an Inner Rim planet, and whose entire career has been spent far away in the Trailing Sectors. If I wanted to defend the Foundry successfully, securing their cooperation–if not their loyalty–was a must.

I also had to visit the nearby shipyards in order to procure some ships for my core fleet. The nearest one was right in orbit around Raxus Prime, but I was going to have to negotiate with Hoersch-Kessel and Free Dac Volunteer branches in order to guarantee good quality vessels and crews, as well as to implement some specifications I had in mind.

Hare plucked my now-empty glass from my hands and refilled it.

“Where’s the old man?” I made a show of looking around.

“He’s been deployed to Aargonar to shore up the defences there.”

A sinecure, as befitting an Onderonian noble and the husband of a senator. An unimportant system, deep in Separatist space, and tangentially protected by the Confederate First Fleet, which units regularly patrols the Perlemian. Mister Bonteri probably thinks hell would freeze over before he comes downrange of a clone’s blaster rifle.

Hell was about to freeze over, then. The First Fleet was being mobilised and redeployed to Nixor, taking most of the Foundry’s active defence with them. Aargonar was about to be pushed from being an uneventful backwater posting to staring down the barrel of the Republic.

What to do about this?

“How long is his tour of duty?” I suddenly asked.

Mina frowned, “Six standard months. Why?”

“Can you get him out of there?”

She sat up, eyes narrowing, “What’s going on, Rain?”

“Why do you think I can tell you?” I said wryly, “I owe him, and you, quite a bit, so all I am doing is repaying the favour. You might also want to keep an eye on Lantillies.”

Just a hop and skip Coreward on the Perlemian was Lantillies, the headquarters of the Grand Army’s Twelfth Sector Army. Only 3,000 parsecs from the Confederate border, if the invasion of the Foundry was to occur, the system would undoubtedly be their staging grounds. Mina Bonteri was not stupid; she knew exactly what I was implying.

“Odd time to do it,” Mina raised an eyebrow, “And odd way, too. There’s been no movement on the Perlemian–the Republic wouldn’t dare, not with our victories in the south.”

I scoffed, “I’m not in the mood to start anything, alright? It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not, what matters is that I clear my conscience.”

I pushed myself to my feet, slinging my coat back on, “Oh, and I’m taking Hare with me.”

Mina briefly glanced at the droid, “Why are you here, really?”

“To take command of Raxus’ defences,” I answered, “We are on track to lose the war, Mina. We outnumber the Grand Army three-to-one, but that advantage is falling through our fingers everyday.”

“Aren’t we on the offensive?”

“Defensive,” I corrected, “All our ‘offensives’ are… well, unimportant.”

The Republic was pushing hard in the New Territories, having taken Muunilinst and now on track to capture Dantooine. Our Third Fleet was outnumbered and outgunned by the Republic’s 8th, 9th, and 10th Sector Armies. In the southern sphere, the Republic’s 20th Sector Army was surrounding Fondor and Bassadro, while the 18th in Eriadu was probing Sullust and Bith.

The problem was that despite outnumbering the Republic Navy three-to-one, we only had three full fleets, while they had twenty. Despite General Tann’s successes, the Second Fleet couldn’t be everywhere at once, not to mention she too was in a precarious situation. Soon the First and Second will be tied up in Operation Sidestep, and our fleet-in-being strategy will be washed down the drain. Which was, granted, exactly the plan.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Our military is a bucket of crabs,” I told her, “Everyone wants operational independence, and no-one wants cooperation unless they are in charge. That’s why we have three fleets and they have twenty–a single person commanding an element of that size would upset the status quo. Instead we have all these independent squadrons doing their own thing without any unified chain of command.”

I huffed, “In the end, we are losing because we are fighting ourselves more than we are fighting the Republic. When was the last time Count Dooku introduced a Supreme Commander candidate to the Senate?”

“Three weeks ago,” Mina replied carefully.

“Who?” I pushed, “How many ayes were there?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“A Pantoran named Sev’rance Tann. There were a quarter ayes, mostly from the War Faction.”

Not enough.

“Do not ask me to abandon my principles, Rain,” Mina warned me, “I will not vote to escalate this war.”

And there it was.

“This war has already escalated, Mina,” I rebuked softly, “It is only because you live among the pleasantries of Raxus that you can preserve your principles. What about my principles, or those of every Separatist giving up their principles on the frontlines to preserve the Confederacy?”

“Do not patronise me, child,” her voice turned gravelly, “It was because I had principles that I took you into my house.”

I laughed, “Let’s not joke around, lady. You sold my parents’ estate the moment you managed to get your hands on it. The only reason you took me in is to avoid the media’s scrutiny. You want to argue principles? I had to look after your estate while you used my inheritance to fund your shiny career on Coruscant.”

Mina Bonteri circled around the tea table between us to look me in the eye. Both of us were tall people, and we towered over Hare as she swivelled her head between us in a mix of confusion and an unspoken mood of ‘really, again?’

“You don’t get to say that to me,” she stared daggers, “Not when it was my family who made your career after you ran to the Army.”

“And who do you think convinced General Tandin to not purge the nobles when you declared for the Separatists,” I shot back, “Do you know just how close your coup came to being a civil war?”

And I never regretted participating in that, despite my knowledge of the Clone Wars. King Dendup’s statement of neutrality was deeply unpopular among the Lords of the Royal Court–House Bonteri included–who quickly started to plot against him. Too quickly. General Akenathen Tandin caught wind of the conspiracy and prepared to wipe them out.