Chapter 17

Coruscant, Coruscant System

Corusca Sector

Scout thought she would finally be able to leave Coruscant and see the galaxy, but for weeks after her official apprenticeship began, the only she saw was more of Coruscant, swept along her Master’s wake. Albeit, she would admit, it was the things she had never seen before.

Instead, as she found herself shuttled back and forth between the Temple, the Senate Rotunda, the Senate Offices, and now the sprawling Centre for Military Operations, Scout realised that Master Skywalker wanted her to see how the war was run, before fighting it.

As the LAAT gunship-larties, as the clones affectionately called them-descended towards the military precinct, Scout caught an incredible view of the Coruscant Naval Yards. A sea of permacrete, and what must be scores of cruisers being serviced by colossal gantry cranes.

“See those red-and-yellow circles on all of them?” Master Skywalker came up behind her, “That’s the symbol of the Open Circle Armada. And those red tallies? There are five on each wing, for the Fifth Fleet.”

“They’re new,” Ahsoka noticed.

Scout had to squint, but she was right. The rest of the Open Circle Armada proudly bore their battle scars. Blackened armour plating, impact craters from torpedoes-she even spotted a deformed hangar door, from where it was melted to slag by a turbolaser before cooling back to solid. In comparison, the ships of the Fifth Fleet were all but gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Ahsoka always had the sharpest eyes out of all of them. Must be because she’s a Togruta.

Master Skywalker was quiet for a while, but finally said- “The Fifth had been brutalised, and these are the replacements. Admiral Yularen had pulled through for us, and hopefully these retrofits won’t go down as easily. That one over there is the Harbinger, our flagship. Padawan Tano, you will be serving on the ship beside it, the Vigilance.”

Scout had an unsettling impression-one unflaggingly built up over her brief tenure as Master Skywalker’s Padawan-that the war was far from going as well as the HoloNet would like them to believe. She peeked up at her Master, wondering whether it was all a test of her perception.

“I do hope you are right that the Negotiator has been lost, Anakin,” Master Kenobi’s voice was troubled, but not for a reason anybody expected.

“And why’s that?” Master Skywalker spun around.

The two Jedi shared an entire conversation in a look, leaving both Scout and Ahsoka mystified-doubly so after Master Skywalker adopted Master Kenobi’s pensiveness, mumbling something beneath his breath.

Ahsoka scuffled closer to her, whispering, “He said something about a stealth ship.”

“Shh!” Scout shushed her, “You’re gonna get us in trouble…”

The two Padawans glanced at their Jedi superiors, and for a brief moment Scout was relieved to know they hadn’t caught Ahsoka eavesdropping. As for they, Scout meant Master Skywalker, because while Scout had never seen her Master outwardly incensed before, her experience with Iron Hand Xan taught her that the coolest masters were usually the most terrifying when irate.

Master Kenobi caught them staring, and winked.

Orbit of Ringo Vinda, Ringo Vinda System
Eucer Sector

“Launching raid on Talcene,” Commander Trilm announced, partitioning a holographic window of the Talcene System.

Thirty-two sets of eyes fixed on the sixteen blue pins gliding into the system, breath abated like runners with one foot on the starting line, painfully waiting for the pistol to fire. Then, expectedly unexpected, the southwest quadrant of the system was drowned in glaring red pins extracting from digital hyperspace. The holochart was far too small for any sort of high resolution, so it looked more akin to a tide of blood sweeping in.

“Contact.”

Commander Trilm’s voice was startlingly calm. The metaphorical starting pistol had just fired. Blue markers were immediately mobilised all across the main star map, scrambling to their premeditated positions. Trilm’s raiding party scattered, not retreating, but closing the distance in order to identify as many enemy elements as possible. It meant sacrificing the squadron, but it was a calculated loss for much needed intelligence.

Data began pouring into our feeds. ARENA’s databanks held the most up to date intel on the Cerulean Spear Command in the region, and used it to simulate the enemy’s makeup. Its intel on the Blazing Claw, Steel Blade, and White Cuirass were more spotty, however, and that meant it had to fill in a lot of holes there. But it was the best we’ve got regardless.

“Fleet element destroyed,” ARENA’s voice was smooth.

“There goes my ships,” Trilm muttered, pulling up Salvara System’s holochart, “As planned, I will delay before retreating to Abhean.”

“My ships are in position,” Vinoc pointed at the floating dot that represented Ringo Vinda, “Pull them in and I will jump in behind them.”

“Indu San has fallen.”

“Blazing Claw- BCC forces coming in from Phindar,” Shive reported, “Havoc Squadron is holding at Vjun.”

“Hang in there; my ships are on the way,” Harsol pulled up a screen.

“Heads up, Bonteri. A CSC taskgroup is headed for Metalorn,” Trilm swore, “Faster than expected.”

“They’re trying to encircle Ringo Vinda,” Captain Jorm said, “CSC knows they need the logistics hub if they want to push further.”

“Where the hell are my battleships?” I demanded, “That’s… fifty, sixty ships!”

“My Class Two hyperdrives can’t make it in time,” Captain Krett stared intently at the star map, as if mentally willing his ships to move faster, “We expected CSC to split after taking Centares, not immediately after Salvara.”

“Salvara has fallen.”

“… Abort and head to Ringo Vinda,” I decided, “I’m going to commandeer all of Metalorn’s PSF ships and retreat.”

“You’re hanging the system out to dry.”

I shrugged helplessly. Not even two hours in, and we’ve lost a foundry world. It was the first difficult decision to make, but most certainly won’t be the last.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, “We make a stand at Ringo Vinda, give CSC a right bloody nose, and abscond with all the ships there.”

“Casfield has fallen.”

“Gala has fallen.”

“Gromas has fallen.”

“Euceron has fallen.”

Right, that’s going to get old real quick.

Coruscant, Coruscant System
Corusca Sector

The Strategic Planning Amphitheatre, as its name suggests, was outright cavernous. Not the same way the Temple’s entrance hall was cavernous, filling any visitor with its grandeur and sublimity, but like a cave. Grey, muted, and grim. Solemn was the adjective to describe the atmosphere in the amphitheatre, filled with the hundreds of men and women of the Strategic Advisory Cell.

Not just the Cell, but officers from High Command and even some Governor-Generals from the Sector Commands. Scout spotted the uniforms of the Admiralty, and the robes of the Jedi, which they soon blended into. Scout had half-expected to appear out of place-dwarfish among the Masters-but there were a surprising number of Padawans in attendance as well. Maybe I didn’t ruin the chances of all the apprentices in the tournament, she thought hopefully.

But what told her this wasn’t just any old meeting, not like the dozens others Master Skywalker forced her to attend, was the presence of the Supreme Chancellor and his closest staff. A whisper in her ear made her realise this was a conference to decide the future of their entire war effort. Even Ahsoka subdued her excitable nature, taken by the mood. Whether her friend knew what was going on however, she didn’t know.

“Don’t make any trouble,” Master Skywalker warned.

“Come now, Anakin,” Master Kenobi said, “They can handle themselves-”

“It has been over a month!” an admiral announced, “And Toydaria has received no word of Admiral Wurtz’s whereabouts! We have no choice but to recognise that like the White Cuirass taskforce before it, the Iron Lance Fleet has been completely destroyed by General Sev’rance Tann!”

That’s Admiral Wullf Yularen, Scout thought. She recognised him because Master Skywalker made her memorise a list of names and faces of every relevant figure she was bound to meet sooner or later, on the precept that knowing who’s who was already halfway to making a name for herself in the circles. The other half, he said, was talking to the right people.

“That’s preposterous!” an army general protested, “Are you saying that out of hundreds of ships, not one reappeared in friendly territory!?”

Scout learned about this. Emergency jumps were commonly used to escape a souring battle. Most of the time it was done on the authority of individual captains, which meant they were far from orderly. Which meant that after any large fleet engagement, there would always be a handful of ships ‘washing up’ in nearby systems.

“I am afraid, ladies and gentlemen,” Armand Isarde, the Director of Republic Intelligence, presented himself, “That our Bothan allies have confirmed a large-scale battle in the Bothawui System. Our conclusion is that both Iron Lance and Bothan forces has been destroyed, and that Bothan worlds are now being subject to invasion.”

“-Then we must dispatch assistance immediately!” a balding man with a goatee boomed, “What message will we send to our allies if we fail to protect them in their time of need!? The Pantoran’s rampage must come to an end!”

“You’re a damn fool, Hauser!” Governor-General Byluir’s hologram shimmered as he roared, “It’s easy for you to say in Vogel, but you have no idea what’s going on! I’ll say; we’re extremely fortunate the Pantoran is satisfied with her pickings! If she decides to invade Coreward, there isn’t even a Thirteenth Army left to stop her!”

Because the Jedi lost most of it on Christophsis was left unsaid. But the implication hung in the air like a sword. General Byluir breathed heavily in the wake of his tirade, and though he didn’t spare the Jedi contingent even a look, there was no doubt in who he blamed for the defeat of the 13th Sector Army.

“So we leave the Bothans to the mercy of the Separatists!?” Governor-General Hauser snapped. If the two Generals weren’t attending as holograms, Scout imagined they might’ve come to blows.

“General Hauser, your worry is misplaced,” Master Windu mollified, with Governor-General Ravik of Red Tails Command beside him, “With Ryloth back in Republic hands, I will take the Ninety-First Corps and relieve our Bothan allies.”

“Underestimate General Tann, you should not,” Master Yoda advised, “In Bothan Space, something she seeks there is. Hm?”

“Is it not the Spynet?” General Ravik gestured, “Both General Kintaro and I have pledged a portion of our fleets for this effort. The Spynet must not fall into Separatist hands.”

“But the Spynet serves both our and their objectives,” an intelligence officer objected, “The Pantoran must know that. If she wanted the Spynet, all she had to do was negotiate with the Bothans!”

There was something to be said about the duplicitous nature of the Bothans, but the officer was correct. For an organisation as vast, resourceful, and nebulous as the Bothan Spynet, it was better not to rock the boat if the existing arrangements still worked.

“Sev’rance Tann is a blunt instrument,” Master Skywalker suddenly made his mind known, and Scout cringed under the attention laid on them, “Count Dooku only sends her where he needs something destroyed.”

“Anakin is right,” Master Kenobi stroked his beard, “Eliminating-or converting-the Spynet requires a scalpel, and Dooku sent a sledgehammer. Whatever she is after in Bothan Space, this isn’t it.”

Director Isard shared a look with one his aides, and then stood up, “Director Deminar’s Cryptanalysis Department appears to have intercepted a priority order sent from General Tann’s headquarters on Geonosis. This may shed some light on our problem.”

“Thank you, Director,” Ilko Deminar cleared his throat, tapping his comlink, “The Confederate Second Fleet is of vital interest to our intelligence efforts. Just before her counterattack at Christophsis, this message was relayed to Raxus Secundus through satellite transceivers in Bothan Space.”

“And we had access to the Bothan satellites?” Admiral Yularen asked.

“The Spynet deals with all sides,” Director Deminar smiled wanly, “For the right price, we were able to obtain and decrypt the message.”

A two storey high holo of the Separatist general was projected into the centre of the amphitheatre. Master Skywalker’s expression-as if it wasn’t already grim enough-dropped several temperatures closer to absolute zero. So that’s why they call her the Pantoran, Scout thought.

“This is General Sev’rance Tann requesting reinforcements from the Confederate First Fleet,” the recording announced to the wrong audience, “The operational situation in the south is dire, and the complete collapse of the front is imminent.”

Orbit of Ringo Vinda, Ringo Vinda System
Eucer Sector

“Ringo Vinda has fallen.”

“Regroup at coordinates six-five-two three-one, two-two-five niner-two. You better have our fuel ready, Jorm.”

“Copy that,” Trilm blew hair off her face, “We can’t let Sy Myrth fall. Not yet.”

“Copy,” Captain Jorm was multitasking half a dozen supply ships across the theatre, “Commander Shive, Havoc’s resupply is in the Chorios System.”

“Chorios- stang! Retreat to Columex immediately!” Horgo Shive wiped his forehead, “Harsol, we’ll stage an ambush over Quell. Vinoc, we need reinforcements!”

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“Stygeon has fallen.”

“Wobani has fallen.”

“Understood,” Vinoc’s rapid reaction taskforce was being slung around the Foundry, “Bronze Serpent, I advise retreat to Anzat.”

“Received. Bonteri, Krett, do you have ships to spare?”

The Neimodian shook his head, “You’re going to get caught. I can’t risk my ships for this.”

“You kriffing insect-!”

“Take Messenger in Flames and Queen of Beauty,” I told him, “Pull back to Captain Krett’s support arc. Saleucami.”

“Roger,” the one-eyed captain shot me a thankful look that I didn’t quite notice.

I sent Lexington and Saratoga on a raid deep into now enemy territory, hounding their supply lines. For every lightyear they pushed further up the Perlemian, the more overburdened their logistics got. The only way we could slow them down further was with scorched earth, but the we had collectively decided razing allied infrastructure was detrimental to ourselves, considering our reinforcements had to use them too.

“Fleet element destroyed.”

Harsol swore like a sailor, fittingly, “Retreat to Columex, Shive. I’ll hold them at Vorzyd.”

“Rain…” Trilm shot me a dangerous look.

“Yeah. I know,” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes, “I know.”

If the Salin Front continued to cave in at its current pace, those of us struggling in the south were going to get cut off.

“I’m bringing my ships to Rhen Var,” Vinoc said loudly, “The rest of you should gather as many ships as possible in Lianna. As many as you can spare.”

“No!” an Aqualish commander scowled, “Every parsec counts! Retreating to Lianna now will be giving two-thousand parsecs to the enemy without a fight!”

My eyes flickered to the countdown, “He’s right. We’re losing too much ground. Krett, Aviso, reinforce Havoc Squadron at Columex. Does anybody in Thanium or Indrexu have ships to bring to Rhen Var?”

“We do,” a Quarren replied, gesturing to the cadre of officers around him, “But that would leave the Thanium Worlds undefended.”

“We need to stall the BCC for as long as possible,” Commander Trilm frowned, “We don’t have much of a choice.”

“Understood.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Aviso groaned, “The Republic definitely isn’t as effective as ARENA. We’re fighting a machine that can’t simulate morale, personality, or character. It runs its armies with pure calculus. If we survive this, then, well, I think it’s safe to say we’ll survive anything the Republic throws at us.”