Chapter 45

Nanth’ri Orbit, Nanth’ri System

Kurost Sector

“This is the star frigate Repulse,” TF-1726 spoke, “We are seeking clearance and a berth. Standby for clearance code transmission.”

Nanth’ri. A green-blue, rather unremarkable–even borderline backwater world–whose only call to fame was the lending of its name to the Nanth’ri Trade Route. Alright, maybe that was a little disingenuous. The Nanth’ri Trade Route was a meandering spacelane running through a rather volatile region of space that acted as a shortcut between the Core Worlds and Mid Rim–and Nanth’ri sat right at the end of that spacelane.

On galactic scale astrocharts, it would hardly be a blip on the map, but in the context of local space, Nanth’ri was a critical tradeworld sitting on a rather profitable merchant route. On the other hand, Nanth’ri sat in that literal grey area where neither the Hutts nor the Republic could agree who owned, leading to an explosion of piracy on the Nanth’ri Trade Route, transforming the star system into something of a Nassau or Tortuga of the Outer Rim.

Not that there were anymore pirates left. Not after the Confederacy stormed in and flipped the table.

“Repulse, this is battlecruiser Kronprinz,” a familiar voice responded, “We’re laying out a vector for you. Welcome back.”

Kronprinz? I stood up and peered out the viewports, glancing down at the flashing pins on Repulse’s array of repeaters and scopes. Familiar transponders blinked back at me; Columexi battlecruiser Kronprinz, Metalornian dreadnought Olympus Mons, Salvaran heavy cruiser Sarissa, Sy Myrthian carriers, Ringo Vindan destroyers, Atrakenite corvette Habatok II. Familiar ships, captained by familiar names. It was as if the entire Perlemian Campaign had come to Nanth’ri.

“Looks like we’re late to a party,” Chief Engineer Kavia Slen commented, awe glittering in her eyes, “So this is a warfleet…”

Kavia stood to my left, directly opposite Tuff’s reserve on my right, and I nodded in silent agreement as I studied the ponderous mountains of battle steel drifting against the stars, glittering with the brilliant pinpricks of their own riding lights. I knew the exact feeling stirring in Kavia’s gut right now–I had once been in her shoes, after all. A child seeing the world for the first time. Power in your left hand, and the lives of millions in your right.

“Tuff, get me a list of ships in the star system that with matches in Repulse’s comm logs,” I ordered.

The tactical droid looked at me critically, as if saying ‘seriously, now?’ but nonetheless pushed an indignant B1 out of the way to commandeer their console. Not fifteen minutes into our transit towards our designated orbital births, Tuff swiped the data into my chair’s built-in displays, and I scrolled the list. There were almost a thousand warships in orbit that Repulse had previous contact with before, but digging deeper, I then filed a request to view their formations.

It was then I received my first taste of the Pantoran’s military reformations. A barrage of numbers assaulted my eyes. Realising I was going to get lost navigating the structure, I saved the datafile for future reference, before filtering it down into a quick summary so I wasn’t walking into the meeting blind.

1st Fleet Group; Commanding Officer Admiral Kirst. New Territories AO. The only formation of the 1st Fleet Group present was the 19th Mobile Fleet; Rear Admiral Trilm.

2nd Fleet Group; Commanding Officer Admiral Trench. Perlemian AO. There were two subformations present in-system: the 21st Guard Fleet, CO Rear Admiral Merai; and 28th Mobile Fleet, CO Rear Admiral Bonteri.

That’s mine, I thought. The 28th Mobile is mine.

“Give me the list of vessels organised under the Twenty-Eighth Mobile,” I requested.

“…Thirty battleships, twenty-three battlecruisers, thirty-six cruisers, seventy-five destroyers, one-hundred fifty-one frigates, and five auxiliaries,” Tuff dutifully narrated, “Three-hundred and twenty vessels in total.”

“Stelle, give me a line to Kronprinz.”

“Roger roger. It’s open, sir.”

“Admiral Greyshade,” I asked tentatively, “Is that you?”

“…Your memory honours me,” the Columexi replied, “The Twenty-Eighth Mobile is yours.”

“What on God’s green Earth are you doing here?” I questioned, inwardly elated to see a familiar face, “Why aren’t you back on the Perlemian?”

“You can thank the Militia Act,” Diedrich replied, and I could almost feel him shrugging on the other end, “With much of the Peace Faction at the summit and unable to vote, the Militia Act passed the Senate with a huge majority. All existing military assets must be registered under the Office of the General, and all system and or sector governments must contribute a portion of them to the Armed Forces. So here we are.”

“Yes…” I dragged out, double-checking the glaring Perlemian AO on a nearby readout, “But it says here the Second Fleet Group’s area of operations is back home.”

“Need-to-know, I’m afraid,” Diedrich chuckled, “We’ll meet on the Invincible. You’re the last to arrive.”

Star dreadnought Invincible. Two kilometres of hardened doonium and bristling with a fearsome array of over two-hundred torpedo launchers. Once the most infamous warship of the Southern Theatre and bane of the Republic, the flagship of Admiral Trench’s scarred visage has been renewed with a fresh coat of paint and plating, almost as if mimicking her commanding officer.

Once upon a time, Repulse served directly under her. Once upon a time, a certain General Tann pulled Repulse away from her. Strange how I’ve seemed to come full circle. Maybe this was the Supreme Commander’s idea of a joke… or a measured display of authority for Admiral Trench.

“Prep me a shuttle,” I circled to the rear of my chair, ignoring the purple cape draped over the backrest, “Hare, come with me… Kavia, watch the ship.”

“Can do, boss,” Kavia grinned, clearly intent on continuing ship-gazing.

After a quick transit, my shuttle decelerated to a halt relative to Invincible, then rolled on its gyros as the dreadnought’s hangar bay tractors locked on. They drew the Sheathipede steadily in, then deposited it with scarcely a tremor within the atmospheric ray shields. There was a background thud, and the ramp lowered, spewing out the pressure differential in the form of white steam.

Two familiar faces met me at the bottom; Diedrich and Vinoc. The most immediate detail that caught my eye was the effects of the Armed Forces, most notably the Confederate rank plaques on their shoulders. Commodore, the symbol read on both.

Greyshade blinked, noticing my curiosity, “Militia Act.”

As if that explained everything.

It sort of did. It explained most things in the Armed Forces these days. The Militia Act officialized the precedence of the federal military hierarchy over local system hierarchies. The only people who were promoted or retained in rank following the Militia Act were heretofore Armed Forces officers already, like I was. Diedrich Greyshade was likely still a Counter Admiral in the Commonality’s Joint Defence Fleet, but it didn’t translate to the Confederate Navy. The system blatantly favoured officers already on the federal payroll–for obvious reasons–and pissed off everybody else. But it pissed off everybody else equally.

And that’s arguably good governance.

But first, formalities. Respect goes a long way–both for people and officialities. I strode right up til the painted line on the deck which indicated the official beginning of star dreadnought Invincible, but no further. I zeroed in on the nearby B1, wearing the colours of the hangar officer of the deck.

“Permission to come aboard, sir?”

The droid startled in surprise, before snapping into a mechanical salute, “Permission granted, sir. Welcome aboard.”

I smiled, replying to the salute with my own and crossing the painted line.

“What’s the agenda?” I quickly asked, ignoring the strange looks the two commodores had for me, “And where’s the Supreme Commander?”

“She couldn’t make it,” Vinoc answered as we began power-walking to the turbolift.

“Why?”

Diedrich raised an eyebrow, “You ought to tell us why. You were there.”

“The Senate has summoned her for a public hearing,” Vinoc punched in a deck level, “And she ventilated her suspicions of Count Dooku on national holotelevision. The Senate then summoned Count Dooku for another public hearing. It’s a full blown political crisis up there.”

“And it’s a military crisis down here,” Diedrich added wryly, “The Supreme Commander will still be attending. Simply not in person as she wanted.”

⁂

“Twenty-Eighth Mobile Fleet, designate, arriving!” the intercom declared as I stepped through the briefing room’s blast doors, and the officers who had been seated around the large conference table rose.

“As you were, all of you,” Admiral Trench towered over the table and everybody around it, “I extend my congratulations, Rear Admiral. You find the Twenty-Eighth to your liking, I hope?”

“Doesn’t explain why it’s here and not on the Perlemian,” I admitted as I found my seat.

Diedrich and Vinoc followed me as Hare came to a stop at my feet, and as they found their chairs and the other officers settled back into their places, I let my eyes run around the table. The table was as stacked as it could be with veterans of the Perlemian Campaign, and many of them greeted me with a wave and nod. I found Calli Trilm lounging a ways away, as the only flag officer from the 1st Fleet Group present–which was doubly strange, as the 1st Fleet Group’s AO was the New Territories. On her left was her flag XO, the one-eyed Commodore Aviso, and to her right was Commander Rel Harsol, now commanding a whole squadron of frigates.

Then there were the officers of the 28th Mobile Fleet, the people under my direct command and many recently promoted. I counted the Muun Commodore Horgo Shive and the Neimodian Commander Krett, along with Auxiliary Commander Jorm.

At the head of the table was Admiral Trench, my direct superior, and beside him was his fellow former-Corporate Alliance officer, the Mon Cala Rear Admiral Merai.

I think I was starting to see a pattern emerge.

“It’s good to see all of you gathered in one place at last,” Trench said, after a moment. “I believe everybody here is in the know. As such, I will furnish a summary of recent events while we wait for our Supreme Commander’s arrival. Six days ago, Coruscant had been attacked by an unknown fleet. This has been confirmed. The damage the planet sustained is unknown. And as of yesterday, our Naval Intelligence have confirmed the perpetrator was Admiral Dua Ningo.”

A wave of recognition rippled out. Everybody knew Dua Ningo was the old Sullustan admiral who disappeared shortly before the war began. Few present could have predicted how he chose to re-enter it.

“Who we lost contact with before the war began,” Commander Krett tapped the table with his ridged digits.

“And the last person who was in contact with him was Count Dooku,” Trench finished, none too happy about the interruption, “We must be prepared of a certain possibility; that the Armed Forces must take action against our Head of State, in the case he refuses to surrender his office. Commander, speak over me again and I’ll have you slated for administrative punishment.”

The Neimodian shrunk back, “My apologies, sir.”

“Permission to speak freely?” Horgo Shive leaned forward.

“Granted.”

“So we’re planning a coup?”

“In the case that he refuses to surrender his office,” the only Fleet Admiral at the table repeated, this time more forcefully, “Otherwise, that sort of talk will not be tolerated.”

“Will the Senate even successfully impeach Dooku?” Commander Harsol rested an elbow on the table, “He’s basically their favourite child.”

Not a small amount of eyes turned towards a certain Calli Trilm, as if expecting her to comment, as she usually did on political affairs. After so long, it was easy to think that Calli had become their unofficial political liaison, considering her mastery of the affairs. The woman in question, on the other hand, was leaning so far back in her seat she was only a single move away from kicking her feet onto the table.

Annoyance flashed across her face, “…What?”

The intercom blared, “Incoming transmission from Raxus Secundus.”

The clattering of chairs filled the room as everybody shot to their feet, with Admiral Trench hastily vacating his position. Not a moment later, the Supreme Commander took the now empty slot at the head of the table.

“At ease,” Sev’rance Tann immediately ordered, “I will make this update quick. As some had predicted, the Confederate Senate had been split by the crisis into those unapologetically pro-Dooku, and those who support the integrity of our Bylaws.”

No one actually moved, but it was as if an invisible stir had run around the compartment. General Tann’s choice of vocabulary had been… pointed, and almost accusatorily specific–it was safe to say, at least, where she stood on this debate.

“The documents had been presented to the Senate and made public to our nation,” she continued, “The rest is out of our hands.”

For the first time since the meeting started, I spoke my piece; “And what happens if the Senate decides to not impeach Count Dooku?”

Sev’rance Tann’s glowing red gaze met me squarely, “Then we will wait for Dooku to act again, and catch him in the act again. The Armed Forces’ sworn duty is to conserve the sanctity and integrity of our nation and its laws. We will continue to do that primly.”

She broke eye contact, sweeping over the rest of the table, “Until then, let’s focus on winning the war.”

Right on cue, the projection of the entire galaxy sprung out of the table, awash with great swatches of blue and red, concentrations of lights indicating the presence of fleets, and other minutiae no ordinary officer would have access to. Glaringly, there was a splotch of red hovering over Coruscant, a lone island in a sea of blue. A question mark bobbed over the spot in place of a designation or callsign.

“In order to distance ourselves from the Attack on Coruscant, and defy the HoloNet’s expectations of our so-called treachery, we will be pulling back all our fleets on all fronts,” she explained to a captured audience, “We will be, in essence, allowing the Republic to seize the initiative.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“We won’t have to wait long,” Vinoc brushed his beard, “The HoloNet is already espousing the values of war.”

“The question is,” Admiral Trench tapped his cane on the ground, “Where will the Republic attack first?”

“There are five possible fronts,” the Supreme Commander snapped her fingers, “First, and most likely is in the New Territories, where the Republic’s Eighth Sector Army had recently captured Dantooine. Their supply lines are solid, and they are riding on good momentum. My staff projects they will soon encircle and take Mygeeto, as well as proceed east to Agamar.”

Agamar, capital of the Lahara Sector. Senator Tyreca Bremack won’t be pleased to learn her constituency was about to become the front line.

“The second front is on the Perlemian,” her finger then drifted east towards the Foundry of the Confederacy, “Reports indicate the Republic will not make any new offensives in this region, as their fleets are spent for the time being. Instead, the Second Fleet Group under Admiral Trench will seek to liberate our lost systems. Third, and just as unlikely, is right here, at Nanth’ri. Our Mistryl allies from Emberlene had recently beaten back the Republic from Nanth’ri, and have now encircled significant units of the Republic’s Fourth Sector Army on Attahox and Mimban.”

“Fourth, and most at risk, is our holdings on the Corellian Run–” the projection traversed to the string of heavily populated commercial and industrial worlds in the Mid Rim cut of the Corellian Run, from Allanteen to Christophsis, “As you are aware, our victory at Christophsis had stymied the Republic’s ambitions on the Run early in the war–but that did not stop them from taking the shipyards of the Allanteen System. We predict the Republic’s Sixteenth Sector Army intends on pushing Rimward until they’ve captured the Seventy-Seven Sectors.”

The 77 Sectors were the seventy-seven subsectors crossed by the Corellian Run in the Expansion Region, stretching from Allanteen-VI and Tynna to Bacrana and Thaere in the south. While the Tion Cluster and Near Perlemian was the industrial heart of the Confederacy, the 77 Sectors and the Corellian Run could be said to be the commercial soul. It was for this reason we spent so much effort linking up the two territories. It has always been in the GAR’s best interest to prevent precisely this, and with Emberlene’s timely intervention at Nanth’ri, it looks like the GAR has pivoted on their objectives.

“And lastly, there is the Rimma Trade Route. Forces in the south led by Commander Ventress had recently crippled the shipyards of Eriadu, and paralyzed the Seswenna Sector’s capability for extended operations,” the Supreme Commander looked up, “However, we had also suffered a string of defeats at the hands of the Twentieth and Eighteenth Sector Armies, led by Jedi General Rees Alrix.”

“Isn’t Ventress another of Dooku’s political plants?” Rel Harsol scoffed derisively,

“Not just any plant,” Diedrich Greyshade added, “She’s one of his ‘new’ Jedi Order.”