Chapter 26

Jeyell Departure, Jeyell System

Roche Sector

In the deep abyss of space, starry eyes watched the pair of droid destroyers lurking like leviathans beneath the solar plane, silent as death itself. There was a herd of twenty-seven supply cruisers 300,000 klicks above them relative to the solar plane. Old and slow, with engines so weak they had to travel out much further to escape the gravity well. The Republic knew that too, and rigged them with enough weapons to hold off any privateers or bandits until the nearest patrol could come to their aid.

Unfortunately for them, sisters Lexington and Saratoga were not ordinary privateers. They’ve been lying in wait for days, exploiting their data of the Republic’s logistics corridors and resupply stations to situate themselves in the most optimal positions. Calculating the herd’s time of arrival, their estimated resupply schedule, Jeyell’s orbit and rotation. Find the perfect patch of space behind a gas giant where patrol sensors could not reach.

All of it, to line up this perfect shot.

 

>Incoming shortburst from CND_1.911.812.01.571_1310RV

>Initiate handshake

[From CND_1.911.812.01.571_1310RV] UKYIYOUZPCGXYQAUMDAWXIOZIWYBRHRCDTQXWKIETGPWLUVPXOOGGRSEOCQPKIDGORFRRKAEPEIGCTDRECENCGAZEZXNYK

 

>Access naval encryption key rotors

>Decrypt session

 

[From CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] HANDLER ONE REPORTS ENEMY PATROL NINE PARSECS BEARING TWO FOUR NINE GALACTIC RELATIVE. EXTRACT IN TWO HOURS TO AVOID.

 

[To CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] ACKNOWLEDGED.

 

[From CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] PLEASE ADVISE FLIGHT PLAN UPDATE.

 

[To CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] TSSE–RMIN–GRYN–DHIA–RRQU. AGREE?

 

[From CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] STANDBY TO CONFIRM WITH HANDLER.

 

[From CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] AGREE.

 

[To CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] ACKNOWLEDGED. CONTACTS FOUR MINUTES TO INTERCEPT. PLEASE ADVISE.

 

[From CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] NO HOSTILES DETECTED. STANDARD INTERCEPT PROCEDURE.

 

[To CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] ACKNOWLEDGED. TERMINATING SESSION.

 

>Terminate handshake

 

Lexington jolted from her hibernation, warming up her shell as gases flowed through her systems. In a sudden shock of power, her triple ion pulse drives launched her forwards, blazing an ethereal cold stream of blue-grey behind her. Once she reached a linear 900 standard gravities, she cut her engines and began diverting all power to her cannons, relying on her autonomous attitude thrusters to make the final adjustments to her approach.

 

Already on high alert for the reported commerce raiding in the area, the Republic spacers caught onto Lexington’s drive trails the moment she exploded out of the darkness. Distress signals were immediately fired off towards Jeyell, and the five supply cruisers pitched upwards to present a smaller target profile and manoeuvre away from the incoming raider–

 

Only to come face-to-face with Saratoga, ripping an icy scar across the stars as she approached from the opposite direction. They had been caught in a pincer.

 

Three minutes; the sisters’ superheavy forward batteries boomed in silence, outranging the convoy’s self-defence guns and punching a hole through the closest two cruisers and turning them into high velocity scrap. The wake of their death throes peppered the convoy with fragments that acted as chaff, inadvertently sabotaging friendly targeting sensors. The convoy hastily loosened their formation in order to avoid friendly fire.

 

Four minutes; Lexington flipped on her axis and burned retro, rotating in a clockwise direction like a round thrown from a slugthrower. Surging into her initial targets, she rammed the wreck at 800 KPS, shattering it like clari-crystals as her hundred and two laser cannons erupted in lashing whips of light, brutally slashing through the stunned cruisers and tearing them apart as if they were flimsiplast.

 

>Incoming shortburst from CND_1.911.812.01.571_1310RV

 

Down to a manageable 270 KPS, Lexington was already slinging her great length around to align with the hyperlane direction. Her scanners detected a squadron of extracting vessels eighty-three light-minutes away.

 

>Initiate handshake

 

Their astronavigation computers were synchronised, ensuring they would insert into the same hyperspace tunnel. Destination: Trasse System.

 

[To CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] EXECUTING JUMP. AGREE?

 

[From CND_SARATOGA_1310RV] AGREE.

⁂

Orbit of Aargonar, Aargonar System

Perkell Sector

 

Aargonar was a desolate dustbowl of a world. Stuck between two hyperlanes with no direct access, the isolated and strategically unimportant system was so worthless even the Republic didn’t want to stick around after conquering it. Unicorn Squadron sailed through the uncontested space, their advanced scanners sweeping the canyon-carved continents for any sign of the Republic outpost surely erected on the planet.

 

Barriss didn’t even know why they were there. Instead, she continued occupying herself while Tuff wasted his time chasing ghosts. She had a lot of time to think, being the only living creature on the ship. Taylor was surprisingly personable, along with the older droids. The newer ones were more sterile, boring. She had lived among them long enough to tell at a glance which were which.

 

The ship had a galley and a hold, but there wasn’t a kitchen droid, none of the B1s were any good at cooking. Even the most service-oriented B1s operated on the premise that ‘food’ was acceptable so long as it kept the consumer alive. There was that twisted logic in that, but Barriss didn’t follow. The galley continued to be quarter where she spent most of her time in, testing and tasting what sort of repugnant bantha shit Separatists considered edible.

 

Most of them weren’t tailored for near-human taste buds, she knew. She still hated it.

 

Barriss massaged her left arm again, absentmindedly running her fingers over the lump tied around her humerus. There was rudimentary bioscanner in the rudimentary medbay–again, she doubted this ship was ever meant for organics–and with it she was certain she either had a tumour, or something was put inside of her without her knowledge. Multiple of them. Barriss knew which conclusion she leaned towards.

 

She had mulled over the idea of a self-surgery, but decided better of it. While Barriss was trained as Jedi healer, and could recognise all the equipment in the medbay, she wasn’t about to trust any of them. They weren’t exactly the Republic-standard sort that she was familiar with, and there wasn’t a medical droid on standby either. Plenty of repair droids, though.

 

Unfortunately, she wasn’t a droid, and she didn’t have a spare arm.

 

More the reason to work on her current escape plan, which decidedly did not include breaking out. Mostly because she doubted she could find some back-alley surgeon willing to operate on a fugitive before Unicorn came down on her like a three-hundred thousand ton sack of permacrete blocks. If she could convince Rain to just let her go, wouldn’t that be better?

 

Once the pot of stew–sludge–had simmered for long enough, she lifted the lid and took a quick taste. Its slimy texture molested her tastebuds for a good moment, before a pleasant aftertaste bloomed throughout her mouth.

 

Score!

 

Either she was far better at intuitive cookery than she had realised, or her sense of taste had been thoroughly warped by now. She sobered quickly after that thought.

 

As Barriss eyed the pot, silently calculating how long it will last her, a battle droid entered the galley. His stride was looser and more relaxed than the stiff, clanking gait of a fresh-off-the-line model, leading her to decide he was one of Rain’s.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Reinforcements have arrived,” he relayed, “Tuff wants you transferred to the Messenger in Flames. So head to the hangar when able.”

 

Barriss stared at the droid, then at the pot, then at the droid again. Do you know how long I spent on this thing? I’m not going to start over.

 

“He couldn’t have told me himself?” she complained.

 

“He’s ripping the data dump out of the Republic base,” the droid said, “It’s important.”

 

She bit her gloves and yanked them off, “Grab that pot for me and bring it to the shuttle. Don’t spill it on your life.”

 

“I have three backups,” he retorted smugly, grabbing the handles anyway, “Where are you going.”

 

“To my quarters. I need to pack what little I have,” Barriss huffed, cleaning up the counter out of habit, “Mind telling me what the raid is for?”

 

The droid hummed like an accordion, “Checking restrictions… no rule on this– right, certainly sir. The Commodore’s uncle was serving here when the Republic attacked. He’s pretty important, so we’re checking their casualty files to find out what happened to him. If he died, Rain will want to know.”

 

Oh. Barriss didn’t allow herself to show an outward reaction, sweeping empty packaging into a trash bin.

 

“I see. Thank you,” she turned around, “You can go on now.”

 

The droid hefted the pot, “Roger roger.”

 

Loyalty programming, huh? Barriss did miss Cartroll’s presence. An actual person to talk to. As she rolled down her sleeves, she brushed that odd bump in her arm again. It was impossible to miss once she realised it was there, and mildly infuriating indeed.

 

Might actually be easier to convince Rain than I initially expected.

 

⁂

Raxus Secundus, Raxus System

Caluula Sector

The Grand Convocation Chamber of the Republic Senate could seat one-thousand and twenty-four senators at any one time. It was a sight to wonder, never failing to leave one’s jaw gaping upon first arrival. Circular and massive, a monolith to the greatness and apparent unity of the Galactic Republic. Just stepping through one of its portals and onto a Senate box lifted your body to the sky, swelling your heart with pride as you took your place in the beating heart of the galaxy.