Chapter 25

Orbit of Sy Myrth, Sy Myrth System

Jospro System

“Aren’t you still a senator of the Republic, Senator Greyshade?” Calli Trilm accused.

Simon Greyshade guffawed, “Neutral senator, Commander Trilm.”

They were at Sy Myrth, one of the great factory worlds of the Confederacy. Hundreds of warships circled around the verdant world like the winds of a hurricane. Not only was Sy Myrth continuously spitting ships into orbit, but the White Hand was also bolstered by the surviving ships from Metalorn. While the Base Division, mostly composed of the most derelict ships, was abandoned, the highly mobile Head Divisions were able to withdraw in the confusion following Castigation’s gambit.

Most significant of the new additions were the two Providence-class dreadnoughts, christened as Benevolent Mother and Olympus Mons.

“Neutral or not, you are in direct violation of the Non-Communication Act,” Captain Krett pointed out.

“You would be surprised how far you can go with credits,” Senator Greyshade grinned, twirling his moustache, “Alas, this is no time for small talk. I am here for business.”

“I fear your definition of business, Senator,” I replied dryly.

“You shouldn’t!” Senator Greyshade exclaimed, “As you may be aware, I represent Columex and the Vorzyd Sector in the Senate. I’ve remained neutral thus far to protect our trade right with the Republic, but now my friends on Raxus warned me that a neutral stance will no longer protect my constituents.”

Friends on Raxus? Christ Almighty, was this Palpatine’s hand at play, or did the corruption between the Republic and Confederacy really run that deep? This guy is like the final boss of sleazy politicians. Regardless, you don’t mess with jank-ass galactic politics if you could help it.

“And yoú came to us to protect your people?” Calli raised an arched eyebrow.

“Who else?” he said, “You may or may not have realised, but your Coalition is making waves in the Separatist Parliament, especially with the upcoming Supreme Commander election. Until the First Fleet is recalled, you control the greatest concentration of warships on the Perlemian. There’s nobody else to go to.”

“So you want to join our Coalition?” I asked warily, feeling optimistically hopeful.

“Not just Vorzyd,” he grin grew wider, “I represent the entire Commonality. All five sectors; Vorzyd, Meridian, Antemeridian, Belderone, and Auril. We will contribute all of our votes, as well as eight-hundred warships.”

The Commonality was no small deal. It was a confederation of five Outer Rim sectors that has existed for decades. Initially formed to protect their interests against the growing demands from the Core, the Commonality has since evolved into something like the Hanseatic League of the Perlemian. With extensive agreements in both commercial and defensive matters, they were a bed of relative stability and prosperity in the ever worsening Outer Rim conditions. Until the Separatist Crisis, obviously.

Even then, they attempted to remain neutral to preserve their advantage, even after the Clone Wars broke out. Now, they were finally forced to take a side. A real side.

“Why don’t you just leverage your neutrality with the Republic, then?” Calli countered, “You offer big with one hand, but what do you want in the other?”

Simon Greyshade nodded knowingly, “I am glad you asked, officer. This makes matters simpler. I already have raised my protests in the Galactic Senate, but the political backing for Operation Trident is absolutely overwhelming. Palpatine thinks he can placate me, but I have already made preparations to present my resignation and hang my post. I will not stand idly by as Columex turns into another Euceron.”

Krett grimaced, “Euceron…”

Captain Krett was currently hunkering down in Ringo Vinda and fighting tooth and nail to keep the island of Separatist space afloat while the isolated world was besieged. Not only was it a strategically sound decision, it was a political statement as well. If Greyshade was right, and the Perlemian senators were watching the Coalition closely, then the message was clear:

Euceron didn’t join us. They fell to the Republic, and we did not protect them. But Ringo Vinda joined us, and we intend on defending them to our last breath.

It was a guarantee of our word. Simple as that. All those fence-sitting must’ve been rightfully wary of our sincerity. Ringo Vinda was the proof all of us needed. If the Commonality becomes a signatory, that will be another massive boost to our legitimacy.

“Correct, officer. Euceron,” Greyshade’s smile bled away, replaced by the first semblance of seriousness I’ve seen so far, “Once the proud host of the Galactic Games, now a smouldering rock in space. That hamfisted Therbon had ‘expedited’ the invasion of Euceron because they were ‘behind schedule.’ Do you know how many billions of credits in investments were lost?”

And in the end, it returns back to what actually mattered. Money. Typical, that’s what it was. The real reason Senator Greyshade wanted to hop on the bandwagon was to protect his assets, and if he could spin it as ‘a senator looking out for his constituents’ all the better for him. For us however, well, as Calli put it succinctly, the offer was far too good to be true.

“And what does the Commonality want in return?” I bit the bullet.

“Equal standing in the Coalition,” Greyshade put bluntly, “Our forces will be commanded by an independent officer of our choosing. One who will have an equal seat and voice in your decision-making processes. That is all.”

“And do you have someone in mind for this role?” Calli asked tentatively.

“My cousin, Diedrich Greyshade.”

I could’ve slammed my head into a table, if there was a table in front of me.

“Worry not, officers,” Senator Greyshade bore a look that implied he knew exactly what they were thinking at that moment, “He has served several tours of duty in his time in the Commonality’s Joint Security Force. He may not have transferred to the Confederacy’s officer corps, but he is capable nonetheless.”

I flattened my expression, “Thank you, Senator. We will consider your proposal and contact you later.”

Simon Greyshade fixed me with a calculating stare, despite the smile that seemed permanently fixed onto his face, “Consider it well, officer. I look forward to your answer.”

His hologram winked out of existence.

“We can’t refuse him, and he knows it,” Krett immediately stated, “This isn’t even worth discussion.”

“The officer corps won’t protest. Our member worlds will,” Calli raised another point of view, “The Commonality is joining us as a whole. That’ll be a powerful subfaction within our own subfaction. What if they try to subsume us from within? They definitely have the capital to do so.”

“She has a point,” I said.

“What of it?” Krett shot back, “The Coalition was a creation of necessity. Once this invasion passes, the Coalition is of no use to us anymore. Let the Commonality keep the empty name, all the other worlds will leave too. Without a common enemy, that is.”

“He has a point,” I said.

Calli levelled me a glare that said shut the fuck up.

“When Senator Greyshade said the Coalition is making waves in Parliament, he was not referring to our war out here,” she explained in a slow, measured tone; as if speaking to a child, “The Coalition has enough star systems under its name that we have become a new voting bloc in Parliament–one divided by militarists and pacifists. Do you understand? We control the swing votes in a hung government.”

“She has a point,” I said, this time more seriously.

“That may be the case, but we’re still fighting a war,” Krett snorted, “Votes–swing votes or not–don’t mean anything to us. We aren’t begging worlds for their political capital; we want their warships.”

“That…” Calli flicked a glance at me, “May depend on your point of view.”

This time, it was my turn to level her a stare that said shut the fuck up.

The Neimodian scoffed, “Whatever. Bring it up with the rest; just know that I recommend accepting his deal.”

Calli turned to me as Krett disconnected, the scar on her face highlighted with a deeper shade of blue– “Well? What’s your plan now?”

“…I won’t even ask when you caught on,” I sighed deeply, “In any case, every vote we get is worth it. Simon Greyshade’s definitely got something up his sleeves, but if all goes to plan…”

“Will everything go to plan?” Calli huffed in exasperation, “We don’t control the votes, Rain. The agreement they signed is to ‘support the Coalition’s common interests in the Senate,’ which is as vague as it gets. You might not like anyone other than the Pantoran as the Supreme Commander, but in this case the Coalition is going to agree with the militarists that we need any Supreme Commander.”

“Don’t worry,” I sounded more confident than I really felt, “I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Who do you think I am?,” I said reassuringly, “We’ll get a representative of the Coalition to protest against Dooku’s recommendation.”

“What, are you going to prepare a speech for against every possible nominee in the Confederacy?” Calli narrowed her eyes at me, “Or… you know who Dooku is going to pick.”

Ah. Shit.

“I do.”

“How? How do you know but I don’t?” she snarled, “Are they going to be someone I know?”

“I– I don’t think so?” I almost blurted out ‘I watched Revenge of the Sith’ there– “I’m quite certain Dooku is going to pull a literal nobody out of his ass.”

No-body, heh. I snorted at my own joke–which Calli didn’t take too kindly, judging from how she seemed to be actively inspecting me as if I’m some sort of abominable Felucian insect.

“And… and who was on your mind to speak before the Senate?” she pressed further, “Yourself?”

Dooku has probably done some digging into the Coalition’s origins by now, as must know the names of the original thirty or so officers who created the initial pact. My name must be among them, but hopefully I’m only in the list and not top of the list. In fact, I’m half-certain sure Calli herself should be at the top.

“I was thinking you, actually,” I admitted, hastily continuing before she could rail at me, “I mean, you are the face of the Coalition. And the Battle of Salvara has made you pretty famous. Not to mention, you were Dooku’s second. Hearing you speak against him would be rather impactful.”

She scoffed in disbelief, brow nearly rising into her hairline, “I am Dooku’s second, Rain. And I’m not about to lose my position over a vote that may or may not succeed. Unlike you, I have quite a bit to lose.”

“You’re still working with us,” I pointed out, “If you are Dooku’s second, shouldn’t you have…”

I trailed off, a sinking feeling coming onto me. It was as if someone increased in internal pressure of Repulse, there was a force pressing down on my chest that made it hard to breathe.

“What?” she demanded.

“I heard something from Horgo Shive,” I said softly, “About how someone leaked the Aurora Auxiliary Division to the Republic Navy.”

A flash of surprise crossed her eyes, followed by wary uneasiness. She hid it well enough that anybody else might miss it, but I’ve known her too long to fail to recognise the signs.

“What are you implying?” she spat dangerously, defensively.

I’m saying you’re a Republic spy. Or rather, you’re Dooku’s spy, and Dooku is a Republic spy. Except, she wouldn’t know that. Nor would she believe it.

“You broke radio silence to send classified intel to Dooku, which included our fleet movements, and inadvertently got them intercepted by Republic Intelligence,” I accused, “That’s why Dooku allowed you to take such a prime role in the Coalition. You’re his mole.”

Which means my position has already been compromised. Fuck.

Her gaze was frigid, “I will neither confirm nor deny anything.”

“Fuck you,” I spat, “Horgo and Jorm want answers, Calli. You’ll be fucking ruined if I told them.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

No, I wouldn’t. I can still turn this around, but Calli needs to fall for my bluff. Her status in the Coalition is rock solid. But if this gets out, her reputation will fall straight into hell. On the other hand, if Calli Trilm–the person who effectively created the Coalition–couldn’t be trusted to keep her mouth shut, who can? Morale will follow her reputation. Not to mention, it might just push her even deeper into Dooku’s camp.

But Calli Trilm lived off her political standing. Her pride wouldn’t let her take such a hit, or even the chance of it. I was betting that the Calli Trilm I think I know is the Calli Trilm she actually is.

“They think I’m the one who leaked it,” I sneered, “Look at me and tell me I won’t.”

She ground her teeth, “…What do you want?”

“You know what I want. Help me pull this off. If you can’t do it, find someone who can?”

“And why can’t you?” she demanded, “You already have a foot in the door, with Mina Bonteri.”

There’s a difference between Dooku knowing a name and knowing a face. I wanted to hold off on actually standing before him for as long as possible. Standing next to Ventress was bad enough. I’d rather actually not meet a bonafide Sith Lord.

“Are you going to do it or not?” I repeated.

“…Fine,” Calli said, “I already have someone in mind. But for this work, you have to be absolutely certain the new kid is a complete unknown.”

So this guy is going to be a career officer. The big thing I’ve gathered is that nobody knows who Grievous is at this point. If Dooku is going to introduce the metal muppet himself, there’s going to be a fuck ton of friction from the top brass–those who were not already paid off, at least. I was curious as to who this person was, but if there was one thing Calli had, it was silver tongue.

“I am,” I gave a pointed look, “Look, I’ll make my own preparations too.”

Calli cut the feed with a black stare and not a single word. Might’ve burned a bridge there, buddy. Was it worth it? Time will tell, I suppose.

“Hare, where the hell are you?” I called.

Two rabbit ears popped up from one of the lower console decks, “Reporting. Yes, Master?”

“Contact Senator Greyshade,” I rubbed my cheek.

Hare climbed back up to the command deck with the holoemitter held between the tips of her ears. It didn’t even take a minute for Greyshade to respond. I allowed myself a small bit of humour by imagining him camping by the receiver for the call-back.

“Commodore… Bonteri, was it?” Greyshade had the courtesy to look mildly surprised, “Considering this is your personal address… how can I help you?”

“You said the Coalition could receive your votes in the Senate.”

His eyes twinkled, “Is this about the upcoming Supreme Commander election? Count Dooku himself attempted to buy the Commonality’s votes. Let me guess… you want us to vote nay.”

“Did he succeed?” I heard my heart drum in my ears.

There was a toothy grin– “The Commonality is not a corporation, Commodore. We cannot be bought. If we could, we would have never been created. Do you know how many Core worlds attempted to sabotage our foundation?”

“Then we are on the same page. I want the Commonality to vote against Dooku’s nomination,” If I sounded a bit strangled, it was because I was choking back a sigh of relief, “I will make sure your proposal gets accepted.”

“That’s not enough and you know it, officer,” Greyshade steepled his fingers, “This is clearly your own initiative. What do you have to offer?”

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

“The Coalition,” I replied bluntly, “If Dooku’s nomination gets elected, the Coalition will cease to exist. And unlike us, our new Supreme Commander will not be someone you can do business with.”

Right now, he was probably thinking something along the lines of me wanting to protect my own operational independence. And yes, many officers would be inclined to protest against an authoritative figure in order to stay independent. In this case, the Coalition looked like a worker’s union that didn’t want a manager. That wasn’t me, per se, but it was a good curtain to hide behind for now.

“You know who his nomination is,” Greyshade stated in monotone, and I felt a real sense of deja vu, “Who is it– no, how do you know? Do you have a mole in his staff? Are you tapping his communications?”

Dear God, I hoped I was tapping his communications. I even hired professional slicers–read: bounty hunters–to supplement my frigates. Alas, I haven’t heard back from them yet.

“One of them.”

Simon Greyshade pulled back, cogs whirring behind his face, “I… see. I believe we can come to an arrangement.”

I leaned forward, urging him on.

“Give me your contact,” he said, “And you will have your votes.”

“Deal,” I answered immediately.

Greyshade’s face broke out into a cheshire grin, “I will speak to my friends. It was a pleasure doing business, Bonteri.”

I nodded, sharing the twisted pleasure, “Agreed.”

Perfect. That left one last thought lingering in my mind: where the fuck is Sev’rance Tann?

⁂

 

Bothawui, Both System

Bothan Space

 

“Colonel Farstar reporting.”

 

“Proceed,” Sev’rance Tann crossed her arms, glowing red eyes staring down towards the political capital of Bothawui and host city of the Bothan Council, Drev’starn.

 

The serene waves of Rylle’vak–the Quiet Ocean–lapped the coastline, gently rocking the myriad maritime vessels berthed in Drev’starn’s blue water anchorage as the yellow sun Both was reflected as bright highway towards the horizon. Dark shapes circled over the sea, chasing out the seabirds from their homes. Geonosian-made air cruisers. The very same that broke the back of Sarapin.

 

“Our air patrols pinged three divisions worth of Bothans marching towards us through the western mountain passes.”