Chapter 29

Orbit of Columex, Columex System

Vorzyd Sector

Diedrich Greyshade had made an oath of duty, to serve Columex, and the greater Commonality, to the best of his ability. Simon Greyshade, on the other hand, swore no oaths other than to himself, in his relentless pursuit of personal power.

That said, Diedrich had never considered them to be at odds. He, however, was under no illusions. The only reason Simon Greyshade does not cross the Commonality for his own gain is because his own influence is a direct causation of the confederation’s. Until the day comes when the Commonality no longer bears the justification to exist, Simon will always be loyal to its cause.

Which was why, Diedrich reflected, I helped cover the death of our cousin for him.

A black stain on both their careers, if it were to be found out. Simon’s predecessor in the Galactic Senate was their elder cousin, Jheramahd. The old man was slipping up too blatantly–his grip loosening on the Commonality’s exclusive rights in exchange for his personal ambitions. There was nothing that wasn’t expected of a politician, but the line has always been drawn where the Commonality was concerned.

Simon believed that the moment Jheramahd attempted to compromise the confederation, his position was forfeit. Arrange an accident, and enter the newly vacated office as a bereaved relative. Simple as that. Diedrich only found out after the fact, but managed to leverage his own influence to help avoid a scandal. Some suspicions were raised, but nothing too untoward.

Why wasn’t he informed beforehand? Well, Diedrich knew how his cousin operated. Simon will always manage to install his victims into an untenable position with only non-decision presented to them. Had Diedrich been informed beforehand, he would have prevented the incident in the first place–but he wasn’t. And thus, Diedrich had two options in the wake of Jheramahd’s death; to out Simon and cripple the Commonality’s representation in the Galactic Senate, or help Simon cover the incident up.

That wasn’t much of a choice. Besides, Simon would say, Jheramahd had betrayed the Commonality.

Diedrich was under no illusions. He was a convenient pawn in Simon’s games–but so long as their aims were parallel, he had no qualms acting so.

What had occurred to the Coalition Armada at Centares was much the same scheme. No, reinforcements would not be coming, but you’d only find out after the battle. If the Coalition had been informed beforehand, the JDF’s purposeful inaction would have been outed, instead of hushed down as it currently was to prevent mutiny. The Coalition’s top brass was then presented with a non-decision; rightfully abandon the JDF to its fate, or grit their teeth and continue working with them.

That wasn’t much of a choice. Besides, Simon would say, you need the Commonality’s warships and politicians.

But that left Diedrich with a most pertinent question; why did the JDF not act?

It was not a matter of strategic debate. Auril and Belderone were very well justified in their stance to avoid a lost battle. The Loyalists’ supply chain was at the breaking point, courtesy of the Coalition. All the Coalition had to do was keep retreating and allow the enemy to crumble under its own weight.

This matter was, regretfully, a political one. The Coalition’s top brass had ultimately backed themselves into a corner of their own making. Their very mission statement was to protect their member worlds at any cost, and to retreat from Centares without putting up a fight would be a tacit rescindment of that ideal.

The JDF was a democracy. Each sector military had an equal number of votes, and any decision concerning the whole structure must first be confirmed by a simple majority.

Vorzyd Sector should have voted with Meridian and Antemeridian. Should have. As the forefront commander of Columex’s planetary fleet, his word should have been enough to sway the scales. Embarrassingly, however, Vorzyd Sector’s vote was split between Columex System and Vorzyd System, voting aye and nay respectively.

Vorzyd V’s officers voted against Columex on the grounds that the Commonality’s security was the priority over Centares’, especially since Vorzyd V itself was being encircled by the Blazing Claw Fleet. But Diedrich knew better. Despite the sector being eponymously named after them, Vorzyd bowed to the will of Columex. Usually.

He saw the fingerprints, clear as day.

Diedrich cradled his cup of tea, lightly sipping.

“You’ve put us in a terrible spot, Simon,” he wetted his lips, “The JDF’s credibility is in the gutter, and I’ve half the mind to put you in one too.”

“Let’s not be so hasty,” Simon raised his hands up in surrender, a wry smile on his face, “A goal has been accomplished. After their losses, we now outnumber the Coalition nearly two-to-one in warships. They need us more than we need them.”

“You’re a God-damned fool,” Diedrich scathed, “Do you not realise we stand in the exact place Euceron did? And look what happened to them! The greatest threat the JDF fought in the past century was a self-proclaimed pirate lord– you’re seeing numbers on a page and thinking bigger is better. That’s not how war works, Simon!”

“Yes, yes,” the Senator placated, “The situation has changed. We will cooperate with the Coalition without argument. I’ll leave it to you, Diedrich.”

Diedrich slammed his fist down, fingers still curled around the handle of the teacup. Twisted satisfaction filled him as Simon flinched at the shards of porcelain shattering across the table and flying through his holographic person.

“That’s not enough,” he snarled, “If you believe I will keep covering your back, you are sorely mistaken. Let me spell this out clearly for you–your existence is no longer necessary. The Republic is now our enemy, and the Commonality has all the representation it needs in the Separatist Parliament. You can go missing in three days and everyone will suspect Republic Intelligence. Do not test me.”

For the first time in Diedrich’s memory, Simon Greyshade’s smug smile cracked. The realisation finally dawned on his eyes, that through all of his scheming and deceit, he had forgotten that he was also yet another piece on the Commonality’s dejarik table.

Simon Greyshade had influence; influence that the Commonality had vested into his personage to represent their interests in the Senate. The moment the Commonality tendered the Articles of Secession, most of that influence was cosmic dust.

Diedrich Greyshade had the power behind that influence. He was the head of the largest sector defence fleet on the Perlemian, that greased the wheels of trade and transformed the Columex into the shining star of the Outer Rim.

Simon chased his ambitions so far and so hard that he had left the very foundations that made him invaluable, and only now was he realising influence was intangible, and power was not.

“…It doesn’t matter now,” Simon slowly slouched, “Not with Dooku being–”

“So it was Dooku,” he snapped, “What did he want from you?”

Dooku being a Republic spy? Unbelievable. The idea was preposterous, had he not seen undeniable proof of the fact. It would be one thing if this was the personal project of a single officer–the information was uncorroborated, and quite honestly, suspect in origin. But if this project was undertaken with the sanction of General Sev’rance Tann’s intelligence quarter?

Diedrich had considered as many possibilities as he could. General Tann was surely not the only individual investigating the HoloNet as a means of communication. Both the Loyalists and Separatists would have their fingers all over the network, so how did he go undetected for so long? Republic Intelligence could be in the know, but the very fact that he wasn’t using the Separatist Munificent network implied that the Confederate Intelligence didn’t.

…Were Tann and Bonteri already suspecting Dooku, and made sure to calibrate their efforts to catch him in particular? Or was it–as Bonteri claimed–merely a case of luck?

Perhaps he should introduce the idea of an intel collaboration agreement–that would surely give him answers. Nevertheless, everything pointed towards a greater plot at hand that nobody in the galaxy could fathom.

Count Dooku, of all people, feeding the Republic information to win the war?

Was he secretly still an ally of the Jedi Order, despite his very public departure? Why would he found the Separatist Alliance in the first place? Very little added up.

“He wanted the Coalition disgraced,” Simon finally admitted, “To force his General Grievous through the Senate, he needed a win.”

“And Centares was to be the setting for that,” Diedrich tilted his chin up, “And what did you get in return?”

“He would smooth over my introduction into the Separatist Parliament,” he sighed, “As well as grant the Columex more favourable rights and commercial agreements. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.”

“It can’t be helped,” Diedrich stood up, peeling off his tea-stained glove and slapping it down on the table, “You will return to Columex immediately. Do not make me bring you here.”

Simon shot to his feet in a panic, “Wait! Look, we can’t beat Dooku in a propaganda war. His grip on the Independent Systems is rock solid. This whistleblowing isn’t going to change anything while he still controls the media. We still have to work with him–at least for now–and that’s what I’m trying to accomplish!”

Desperation coloured his voice brilliantly, and Diedrich felt no small amount of schadenfreude from it. Enough of playing in the shadows with handshakes and backdoor deals. Columex will not be deprived of her glory any longer.

Counter Admiral Diedrich Greyshade levelled his gaze beyond the porthole of his stateroom, scanning the length of his pride and joy, battlecruiser Kronprinz. Modernised and refitted over the millenia, there was likely not a single original panel left on her hull. She may not be the oldest vessel in the system–that trophy belonged to the heavy cruiser Grosstat–but she has been fighting since the Fourth Jedi Schism and all the wars since.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Know this, Simon; when people expect you to play a role without handing you a script, they should be prepared for an improv performance that may not go their way,” Diedrich told his cousin pointedly, “That’s the risk you take when you manipulate. We’re at war now–we best start treating it as one.”

Simon slowly lowered himself back into his seat.

Diedrich had long entertained the idea that Kronprinz once downed a Jedi flagship, in ages past.

And wondered if she could do it again.

⁂

Wanting to short circuit the bureaucracy, so as to not repeat the JDF’s retardation, we basically told each planetary defence force to pick one or two representatives. There were some protests, but suffice to say none of us were in the mood for it and thus put our foot down on the issue.

While waiting for the amalgamation of officers in colourful uniforms and devices to shuffle around the holoprojection table, I took the opportunity to slack my nerves by goofing around with Hare.

I extended a hand palm side up, and Hare hopped up to clap it. I held it out again, and this time lifted my hand up as she tried to reach it, narrowly missing. Hare paused, annoyance blatant into her bright yellow eyes, despite her lack of expression. I offered my hand again, and she took to staring at it like a house cat would a mouse.

Time stretched on as she observed my slightest twitches, internally calculating the best time to strike. Unfortunately, LEP droids were not built for their reflexes, and I could easily notice her servomotors whirring in anticipation.

She leapt–I snapped my hand away–and caught empty air. I snickered.