Chapter 44

Onderon, Japrael System

Japrael Sector

The first name that came to mind was General Grievous.

That robot bastard was the only person I could think of with the ability to attack Coruscant–but there were several issues with that. First, I didn’t know how Grievous reached Coruscant in Revenge of the Sith. It was the end of the war by then, and for all I know the frontlines were in the Core Worlds, despite my half-baked memory being pretty sure the Separatists were losing badly by then.

Regardless, this entire affair had an unmistakable Sith Lord-shaped shadow looming over it all. I hadn’t even considered that they might do something so drastic, which with the curse of hindsight made me realise how optimistic that train of thought was. The Republic’s sudden desire for peace–even an incomplete one–was a surprise, but a pleasant one. The sheer impact of the Battle of Columex on the Republic’s war weariness was an even greater surprise, and an even more pleasant one.

Nothing save an attack on the very initiator of the peace effort could overturn the public perception of the war, that’s what I thought. I suppose an arbitrary surprise attack on the capital of the Republic might just do the trick as well.

Just can’t get a break, I internally complained, thrown from one place to another. That’s what I get for fighting against the will of space magic, I suppose.

But now I was in a pickle. Standing in a room full of terrified senators and delegates, with small army droids–that I could only get in here by threatening the dean of Ov Taraba–there was no doubt I was painting myself as the villain. Not to mention I had just attacked a Jedi Knight in an attempt to shut down his lightsaber–a terrible decision in hindsight, as there was no chance I could out-reflex a Jedi–that to my own credit, worked.

And for the record, I was terrified as well. Anakin Skywalker doesn’t have the greatest track record with this sort of thing, and I was far less concerned with the four extra lightsabers not being held by Anakin Skywalker now being directed at me, considering they were all being held by mentally stable individuals.

“–Home Defense Fleet has been destroyed, Chancellor!” a Jedi,by the robes, stepped into the frame of the holoprojector, “Admiral Honor isn’t responding! They’re destroying all of our satellites!”

The miniature Chancellor then doubled over, muttering something mad as he was caught dragged away by a pale, bald aide. Anakin frowned, speeding up the footage and distorting the imaging and audio until the tendril-haired Jedi was the only person in-frame.

“…Is that you?” the Jedi was so close to the sending comlink that her head was morbidly enlarged, as if she was afraid we couldn’t hear her, “Thank the Force we were able to reach somebody. Our satellites are being targeted, so Coruscant’s communications are about to be cut off. I’m afraid the attack we feared was coming has finally arrived, just in the wrong place. Get the delegates out of–”

And the recording was unceremoniously cut off with a sharp hum and wink of blue light. Anakin Skywalker looked up expectantly at all of us, conveying a very vindictive ‘I told you so’ through his expressive eyebrows. Bail Organa moved to speak, but the whirr of a blaster being primed made him think twice.

Padmé Amidala was not so afraid.

“Well?” she asked, doing her best to conceal the utter defeat in her voice, “What is going to be done now?”

One thing’s for certain; the political careers of everybody in this room was done. For both sides. They spent all their pull and capital crediting and sponsoring the peace initiative, with nothing to show for it. Worse than that, actually. One step forward to peace, and the Sith–I suspect–dragged us all a hundred klicks back in one decisive strike.

“First–” I ensheathed my sword, “Let’s put our weapons away, then confirm the situation.”

I raised a fist, and my droid battalion stood down with the sort of pure unhesitation to follow orders you could only expect from machines. Thankfully, the Jedi didn’t want to pick a fight either, and swiftly reciprocated the sentiment.

I made a show of taking out my own holoprojector, toggling a hotline straight to my boss; General Sev’rance Tann. I didn’t even have to wait.

Her disciplinarian form appeared, ever more severe since her ascension; “Yes, Rear Admiral?”

“We have an audience,” was the first thing I said.

“…Noted. Do you have a report for me?”

I eyed the Jedi carefully. Every bone in my body was screaming for me to get out now, behind the siege of droids, while I still could.

“A rogue Separatist warfleet has attacked Coruscant,” I reported bluntly, not moving an inch from my spot, “Do you have any news on that account?”

Damning silence was all that followed. General Tann immediately disappeared from the holographic frame.

Obi-Wan Kenobi raised an eyebrow, “Not even General Tann–who is now your Supreme Commander, if I recall rightly–knows anything about this? Truly, I am now wondering if this rogue fleet even belongs to the Confederacy.”

“I hope not,” Mina Bonteri’s gravelly voice snarled, “Or there will be the Demon Moon to pay.”

“Master Gallia never specified the perpetrators,” Master Kenobi brushed his beard, unflappably calm, “It would be a mistake to presume the attackers are Separatists. The recall of our delegates could be nothing more than a precautionary action.”

“With all due respect, Master,” the Togruta Padawan said nervously, “But who else has the firepower to attack Coruscant? And the Home Defence Fleet was destroyed too. There aren’t any pirate fleets in the Core, and what pirate fleets there are in the Outer Rim… are under the Confederacy’s payroll.”

Mina snorted loudly, falling back onto her chair heavily, massaging her forehead. As always, she knew how to discreetly command the mood. Tawni Ames and other Peace Faction-aligned officials immediately followed her lead, effectively breaking everybody out of their fight-or-flight fugue.

“How would we even get a fleet to Coruscant?” she bit, “Unless you intend to self-report the vulnerability of your Core Worlds.”

They didn’t have to wait for the answer, despite the fact that my arm was already aching by the time Sev’rance Tann returned.

“I just spoke with Rear Admiral Trilm,” the Supreme Commander said, “I am afraid there is a Separatist presence in the Core Worlds. One that I was not aware of.”

I barely had the time to process the fact that Calli Trilm was now also an admiral, before my mind immediately latched onto the latter half of the statement–as did nearly everybody else around me.

“There is!?” Mina Bonteri demanded before I could, slamming her palms against the table.

The Supreme Commander couldn’t have seen her, but she most definitely heard her. General Tann crossed her arms, “During the Separatist Crisis, Count Dooku secretly dispatched Admiral Dua Ningo to the Techno Union shipyards at Foerost, ostensibly to build a new fleet right under the nose of Coruscant. Unfortunately, the Battle of Geonosis started the war before the fleet could be constructed. We’ve had no contact with Admiral Ningo since, and due to the secrecy of his commission, nobody but the scarce few inside Dooku’s inner circle even knew of the mission’s existence. Even I assumed Admiral Ningo was simply missing in action.”

“And Count Dooku never informed you?” Senator Bremack asked in disbelief.

“He did not,” General Tann gave me a knowing look, “I had to find out through one of his former subordinates.”

That’s… not something you say unless you didn’t care about legitimacy, I winced internally. A Supreme Commander who wasn’t in control of her own military didn’t instil a ton of confidence. But that was Sev’rance Tann for you; straightforward, tactless, and not a single politicking bone in her body. Fortunately, it appeared that Calli Trilm was already acting as her unofficial political advisor, and even I had to admit, there was no better choice.

Regardless, it was already said, and considering the furious expressions of some of the Separatist senators, there was going to be a senatorial investigation in order.

“Hold on,” Anakin Skywalker’s apprentice raised her hand like a schoolgirl, “Isn’t Foerost only two-hundred parsecs from Coruscant? That’s a five hour jump.”

“And more importantly,” Master Plo added, “Considering the prominence of the Foerost Shipyards, this fleet could already be finished–has already been finished.”

“We never heard of it,” Bail Organa shook his head, bouncing between each of his colleagues to confirm his statement, “Of Foerost, yes, but not about the construction. But we had a blockade there; why didn’t we inform Admiral Ningo about the peace effort?”

“That’s not a question that can be answered here,” Senator Breemu pointed out.

“So that’s it then?” Padmé Amidala was despondent, holding her head in her hands, “Everything we strived for, wiped clean by pure bad luck? A rogue fleet nobody could communicate with, that nobody knew existed, just chose this precise moment to break out?”

Well, when it was put like that… it only deepened my suspicions even further. General Tann was giving me another meaningful look… oh, that does make a lot of sense.

The Supreme Commander cleared her throat, “There is going to be a lot of confusion and accusations in the coming days, but I wish to guarantee to the honourable Republic delegation that the actions of Foerost have not been sanctioned by my office. The Confederate Armed Forces will be completely forthcoming and transparent to any official inquiries from the Republic Diplomatic Corps. If you can procure me a secure line to a Republic asset nearby Admiral Ningo, I may be able to communicate with him.”

“There’s no chance that’s happening,” Senator Darsana scoffed derisively, “Give a line of communication from the Supreme Commander of the Separatist military to a suspected Separatist fleet? Try asking the Senate to decrease taxes on Core hyperlanes instead.”

“I’m afraid what we think won’t matter anymore,” he continued, slumping, “The HoloNet will go on a rampage, and our standings in the Senate will be completely gutted.”

If he had it bad, Padmé Amidala had it worse, and everybody knew it. All of the Republic senators present here would have their careers severely damaged, but not enough to completely destroy them. Padmé, however, was the exception. She was the star of the show, the main character of the HoloNet’s eye, the woman who made that damn speech define her career post-Columex. I wouldn’t pretend to know how Naboo elects its senators, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Senator Amidala would be forced to tender her resignation, or even be recalled and replaced.

“So the war continues…” the Senator in question appeared far more distressed over the files on the table than her own future, “And to think we were so close…”

“Bad luck, huh…?” Mina looked at the Jedi, “Does the Force think this is bad luck as well?”

“The Council will seek answers,” Plo Koon promised, turning to me with intent through his mask, unflappably calm, “I imagine you will too. But for now, our priority is returning our delegates to Republic space safely.”

“Our warships will escort your diplomatic vessels as far as Commenor,” General Tann promised.

Wait, Commenor? That’s neck deep in Republic space. There’s no way our ships will be allowed to return… wait a second, the only ship’s in Japrael are mine!

“Commenor?” Obi-Wan Kenobi questioned, “General, we would be satisfied with the edge of the Japrael Sector.”

“I insist,” Tann returned, “Considered a prerequisite of safety. Rear Admiral, I’m sure your vessels are up to the task?”

Considering her tone suggested it was an order and not a question, I had no choice to comply. Not to mention, I could recognise Calli Trilm anywhere. Yes, Sev’rance Tann was speaking, but those were Calli’s words. General Tann would never give a reassurance to the Republic senators, or waste any naval resources escorting them back to Loyalist space. Calli Trilm, however? Optics was her middle name. For all I knew, the grey-haired witch was standing right next to Tann, out of view.

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Because the reason for my fleet escort was obvious enough; to dissuade any… let’s call them ‘pirates’ from jumping the Republic’s diplomatic corps while in-transit. Whether they were Republic or Separatist ‘pirates’ didn’t matter.

But I had to ask– “And what will become of my ships once they arrive at Commenor?”

“Make sure they contain nothing of value to the Republic,” the General might as well shrugged, “Scuttle them or let the Republic intern them.”

“…Understood, General,” I blew out a furious breath, then pulled out my comlink with my free hand, “Tuff, come in. I need you to prepare a squadron…”

I raised an open hand, and my droid encirclement swiftly opened its ranks. Prompted by the implied acquiescence, the blue armoured Senate Guards immediately began ushering the Republic delegates out of the room.

As I spoke to Zenith, I noticed Padmé Amidala forlornly collecting her documents off the table–

“Forgive me for hoping that one day, we will need these files,” she muttered, clutching them close to her chest before trudging after her colleagues.

“Bonteri!” I tensed as Anakin Skywalker called me, “Looks like we will be meeting each other on the battlefield again.”

I looked up, “I wish it wouldn’t come to that.”

The Jedi Knight shifted, “Well… sorry about earlier. I thought you planned the attack. But it looks like it really was just bad timing.”

My gaze skipped to Plo Koon, “I wouldn’t be so sure. I would check all communications concerning Foerost, Master Jedi.”

The old Kel Dor bowed his head, clearly catching my meaning, “I will launch an investigation upon our return. Personally, if I must.”

“Not personally… that’d be drawing too much attention from the wrong people,” I returned to Skywalker, jabbing a finger at him, “And one more thing; I want my ships back in one piece.”

As they left, Mina released a laborious sigh, childishly flicking a wine glass over and spilling its purplish contents over the table. Tyreca Bremack snorted in response, and pushed down her arms in a movement to stand.

I adjusted the receiving and transmitting apertures of my holoprojector and tossed it onto the table, “Please stay a while, senators. Your attendants can leave.”

It was clear it wasn’t a request, and considering there was still a not insignificant number of droids remaining, Bremack took a good look around, and plopped back into her chair. Mina waved her hand, and their senatorial aides left through the side doors, though not without a few worried looks over their shoulders.

“What is it, Rain?”

I gestured towards the holoprojector, which, now with a larger aperture, displayed a life-sized Sev’rance Tann.

“It wasn’t bad timing,” I said once nobody else was in earshot, “And this may be a mistake bringing you into the loop, but we’ve decided risks had to be taken.”

Esu Rotsinu raised an eyebrow, “If it wasn’t bad timing, then what was it?”

“There is one person we know for certain who has lines of communication in the Core Worlds, and also the authority to order Admiral Dua Ningo,” General Tann dropped the ball, “It is our Head of State, Count Dooku.”

I would’ve put it more tactfully than that, but I supposed brevity has its place. If nothing else, it conveyed the required amount of seriousness to the senators to tell them that this wasn’t our idea of a joke.