Chapter 50

Coruscant, Coruscant System

Corusca Sector

Palpatine smelled the suffering, heard the screaming, and relished it. He could feel the pulse of the dark side strengthening, fuelling him. Not just from Coruscant, but from all across the Galactic Interior. As Dua Ningo’s Bulwark Fleet rampaged across the Core Worlds, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake, Palpatine only grew more powerful. He could devour the hatred and rage from the millions who lost much by the Bulwark Fleet’s warpath, and he could drink the terror and panic from the billions who feared that they would be next.

“After he struck Coruscant, Admiral Ningo led the Bulwark Fleet east to Ixtlar, then north to Basilisk, where Admiral Honor caught him. She reported back an indecisive engagement,” the stern, stiff-lipped voice of Director Armand Isard narrated coldly, despite the rising discomfort in the Chancellor’s Office, “From there he fled back west where he raided Grizmallt for materiel and resources, destroying several warships under construction. Alsakan was next, but the Bulwark Fleet immediately retreated north to Thorgeld upon noticing the Mandator-class dreadnought Defender of the Arrowhead in-system. He then reached the Shawken System further north, where he was intercepted by Admiral Honor and forced back south to Corulag. Leading a detachment, Captain Dodonna caught him there, forcing the Bulwark Fleet to jump to Anaxes, where Admiral Honor intercepted him again. We are still awaiting the results of this battle.”

The holographic projection evolved in lockstep with the Director’s oral report, flawlessly displaying the progress of the Bulwark Fleet’s warpath through the Interior.

“What are they doing?” Senator Shayla Paige-Tarkin of Eriadu snarled, “This Dua Ningo is running circles around the Bloodhound! It has been one standard month, and the Bulwark Fleet remains no more than five-hundred parsecs from Coruscant!”

“Might we remain professional in the Chancellor’s Office, Shayla?” Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila coolly reprimanded, locking horns with her counterpart, “Let’s refer to Admiral Honor by her name, shall we? I imagine this is all a part of her strategy, Director Isard?”

Honor Salima, Admiral of the Coruscant Home Defense Fleet. The Bloodhound. So-called for her relentless pursuit of Dua Ningo and his Bulwark Fleet. She had viewed the Attack on Coruscant as a personal failure of hers, and in a fit of rage and contrition, launched a total, obsessive manhunt of the Separatist perpetrator, wielding the Home Fleet as one might a personal weapon. The Chancellor might have reined in the Bloodhound, if not for that he saw no real reason to.

Indeed, Admiral Honor may be overstepping her authority, ignoring all attempts to restrain her from the Republic Navy. That may have been a great blow to the GAR’s authority, if not for the unanimous support for her great hunt from across the Republic. Taking Captain Jan Dodonna with her, the man who once oversaw the Siege of Foerost and witnessed the Bulwark Fleet’s breakout, along with every new Victory-class Star Destroyer in the Republic’s employ, Admiral Honor has been in a non-stop, month-long pursuit of the Bulwark Fleet to avenge her failure in defending Coruscant.

Ultimately, the Republic Navy opted to relent, concealing their efforts to subdue her rogue actions out of concern for public reprisal. Instead, a compromise was reached; the Bloodhound could continue her pursuit unrestrained, so long as she sent regular updates to Strategic Command.

“Admiral Honor is a woman of few words, and has failed to elaborate on her strategy,” Admiral Barton Coburn–mastermind behind the Coburn Plan that resulted in the crushing success of the Hundred Days’ Offensive–folded his arms behind him, “But I know her well, as colleagues, and she is a most talented officer and taskmaster. A requirement, especially for someone who must manage the viper’s pit that is the Home Fleet.”

The Coruscant Home Fleet. The dustbin of the Republic Navy, where it discards the useless, but ‘important’ graduates from naval academies across the Core Worlds. Noble scions, talentless children from military families, and the dregs of the political elite. Those who desired the glory of serving in the Grand Army of the Republic and fighting the Clone Wars, yet wanted none of the risk and danger that came with it. A prestigious post within the safest place in the Republic such as the Home Fleet was the perfect posting.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine allowed himself a mote of outward humour at the thought of all those worthless failures now trapped on the Bloodhound’s wild ride. How ironic it was, that all those who seeked to avoid battle now found themselves under the tyranny of one of the most humourless and bloodthirsty Fleet Admirals of the Republic, actively seeking battles and forcing engagements wherever possible.

“If she is so talented,” Senator Tarkin sneered, jabbing at the projection, “How do you explain this!? Why hasn’t she driven the Bulwark Fleet out!?”

“If I may, Senator,” Director Isard intervened, “We in Republic Intelligence believe Admiral Honor never intended to allow the Bulwark Fleet to escape. She is seeking not the rout of our foe, but their complete destruction. Observe the Bulwark Fleet’s progress to Shawken, where they attempted to escape, and was thwarted by the Home Fleet. He then jumped to Corulag, where Admiral Honor ordered Captain Dodonna to strike from the Rimward direction, pushing the Bulwark Fleet back into the Core. Every attempt Admiral Dua Ningo makes to escape to the Outer Rim, the Home Fleet inevitably blocks his path and drives him back Coreward.”

“This…” Senator Tarkin was red, and at a loss for words.

“We are witnessing a dance, where the Core Worlds is the ballroom,” Jedi Master Adi Gallia, official liaison of the Jedi High Council, mused, “Both wish to end the dance, but in incompatibly different ways. Admiral Coburn, Director Isard; might I suggest that the reason Admiral Honor has not been forthcoming with her plans may be due to the fact that she has none at all? The simplest answer is many times to correct one; the Bulwark Fleet and Home Fleet are reacting to each other on the move. Neither have any long-term strategy beyond their final goal. One seeks escape. The other seeks total annihilation of the former.”

“In that case, there is no point in further discussion of this matter,” the Chancellor declared decisively.

“Chancellor!?” Senator Tarkin raised her voice in surprise, and even the level-headed Mon Mothma flinched at the announcement, “With all due respect, every day the Bulwark Fleet spends in the Interior is another day they could strike at another system!”

And every day the Bulwark Fleet spends in the Interior is another day their legend of horror grows, until its shadow covers all of the Republic. Admiral Dua Ningo moved history by hitting Coruscant for the first time in a thousand years. Oh, Coruscant will recover. Already, relief fleets from the Agricultural Circuit were pouring into the system en masse, while great nets swept away orbital debris and cleared the way for replacement satellites and mirrors.

This was not the first time the Coruscant had been attacked. This would not be the last. Not even once, did the Office of the Supreme Chancellor consider the evacuation of the government. Coruscant was the cog at the heart of the galaxy, the single one that turns all the others, and she herself cannot stop turning. The Chancellor was well prepared for the Bulwark Fleet.

After all, was it not him who staged the Attack on Coruscant in the first place?

It was such a simple matter. Palpatine could laugh at his victory. He dealt the most grievous blow to the Republic in a millennia, and not a single soul suspected him of it!

The deployment of the new Victory-class Star Destroyers to Foerost. Not in mass, no, but one by one, gradually instilling fear in the mind of Admiral Dua Ningo. ‘The GAR intends on ending the Siege of Foerost,’ the old Sullustan must have thought, ‘I must break out as soon as possible, but in which direction?’

The mobilisation of the Core Reserve Armadas to the frontlines, leaving the Interior devoid of any significant military presence. This raised concerns amongst the myriad Core Worlds who seeked protection. And out of magnanimous consolation, the Chancellor personally ordered the Coruscant Home Fleet to spread out across the Interior to ease their anxieties, leaving behind only a few dozen ships at Coruscant itself. It was only a stop-gap measure, of course, as the Home Fleet couldn’t remain away from the capital for very long.

And so, the Republic Navy was forced to mobilise its final reserve armada to garrison the Core; the 5th Deep Core Reserve. A secret fleet, hidden throughout the entire war in the Deep Core. Many prominent GAR officials have no idea about its existence, much less the Separatists. Over five-hundred ships spilled northbound on the Koros Trunk Line, whereas it so happened to be that Foerost sat directly in their path.

The Bulwark Fleet ultimately only had one way to go–north. And as the old Sullustan must have realised… the majority of the Home Fleet was nowhere to be found in the Coruscant System.

Had his office been empty, Palpatine would have cackled. He did cackle, as Separatist warships scoured the skies above him and as his aides begged for his evacuation. Nothing was quite so stirring as a plan coming together.

And now? The fruits of the seeds he so carefully planted? The collective consciousness of the Galactic Republic will accept nothing less than the complete destruction of the Separatist Alliance. Every day the Bulwark Fleet spends rampaging through the Interior, every day the HoloNet fans the flames of bellicism and militarism. The budget and size of the Grand Army exploded as donations and recruits flooded in from affluent Core Worlds, while any hope of a ceasefire was thrown into the void.

Alas, the outcome was not perfect. If only those annoying Separatists had killed the peace delegates on Onderon… then the Chancellor would have no real opposition left in the Galactic Senate. He also had a group of Separatist ‘pirates’ waiting at Ambria to intercept the diplomatic convoy’s return journey, but that Sev’rance Tann had prepared for that too, ordering a military escort of forty warships to accompany them. Warships now interned at Commenor for investigation.

Most irritating.

No matter, the Chancellor thought, it delays some of my plans, but causes no real effect. The Loyalist Faction within the Senate was now ineffective, trapped in a power struggle between Senator Shayla Paige-Tarkin and Senator Mon Mothma about how to best proceed forward, and the uneasy alliance between the usually antagonistic Senatorial caucuses that held it together was falling apart. With figures like Senator Bana Breemu, Senator Bail Organa, and especially Senator Padmé Amidala disgraced upon their return, many of the peace delegates had retreated from public life.

Some out of shame.

Most out of fear.

Coruscant was now a teeming hotspot of anti-Separatism, on the surface at least. Should the likes of Senator Amidala step onto public grounds, it was likely she would find herself strung up and lynched by the masses baying for her blood. She was nearly lynched in the Senate Building itself, having been chased out by workers, staffers, and even fellow senators the multiple times she attempted to attend meetings and sessions. Her plight was not at all a special one.

All of this in mind, the only real obstacle left between Palpatine and his New Order was Mon Mothma and the Chandrila Caucus. The poor Senator spends most of time arguing against bills to no effect, so tirelessly trying to straddle the line between ‘pacifist’ and ‘traitor.’ The two words were so close they seem synonymous in the Senate–nay, the entire Republic–these days.

“Then allow Admiral Honor Salima all the resources she needs to put an end to the Bulwark Fleet!” the Chancellor exclaimed, “I will admit, my friends, I share every sentiment our good Admiral possesses. I would rather find the Bulwark Fleet’s blasted wrecks in the Core than allow them to return as heroes to the Separatist Alliance!”

Palpatine injected just the right amount of fervour and anger into his voice to unbalance his audience. He had carefully cultivated his image for so long–this amicable, genteel fatherly figure of the Republic–that by breaking that image in the right places, he could effectively convey exactly what his audience wanted to hear.

The Supreme Chancellor was angry too. He was mourning too. He wanted nothing more than the severed head of Dua Ningo on his desk too.

Nevermind that allowing the Bulwark Fleet to escape towards the Rim would be detrimental to his Grand Plan. He needed the Republic to accept his New Order with open arms, and allowing the Separatists to sow havoc was the perfect vector to that outcome. Despite Senator Tarkin’s fears, the Bulwark Fleet was by and large toothless. Admiral Dua Ningo was too busy trying to outwit and outrun the Bloodhound to risk attacking another star system. The only attacks he made were not terror raids, but raids for fuel, resources, and materiel.

It was perfect. A toothless hound evoked the same terror as a toothed one, to the average citizen of the Republic. Thanks to his newfound control over the HoloNet via the expanded powers of the HoloCommunications Commission, the Supreme Chancellor could control exactly how terrifying the Bulwark Fleet was, steadily guiding the Republic towards his Empire. It was a fine line to walk, with little margin for error, but that had always been Palpatine’s ballgame, from the days spent speeder racing on Naboo in his youth.

“Indeed, Shayla,” Mon Mothma demurred, “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with your homeworld? I’ve heard that Eriadu is being besieged by General Horn Ambigene. Is that not more concerning to you?”

Senator Tarkin scoffed, “Eriadu would never fall to the likes of him! Our fleets may have been scattered, but General Ambigene will only find our people ready and waiting to fight! Eriadu and Seswenna will not be swayed so easily. My cousin, Gideon Tarkin, has assured me that our citizens will take up arms against the droid menace, to the last man if we must, should General Ambigene dare to test our strength with a ground invasion.”

“General Ambigene dislikes battle droids, Senator,” Jedi Master Adi Gallia said mildly, “His men are all citizen soldiers from across the Outer Rim.”

“Then we shall fight even harder, knowing we face traitors to the Republic!”

“Is that so…”

The Chancellor frowned. Eriadu was of great importance to his future plans, if his Empire was to come to fruition. The Outer Rim will continue being a bed of discontent for years to come, and a key supporter of his regime in the Rim such as Eriadu and the Seswenna Sector would be invaluable.

“The Bulwark Fleet is of little concern; I trust Admiral Honor will dispense justice in our stead,” the Supreme Chancellor stated, “We must now turn our attention to the Outer Rim. Senator Tarkin, my dear, I speak on behalf of the Republic when I say that there is no world in the Rim more valuable to us than Eriadu. The loyalty of its people will be rewarded.”

Senator Tarkin shivered in delight at his words, like a peacock fluffing up its feathers, a pleased smile curling her red lips.

“Eriadu must not fall,” he met the eyes of his audience meaningfully, “I have been informed that the Separatists are preparing for a large-scale endeavour?”

“Correct, Chancellor,” Director Isard confirmed, “Our agents have been unanimous across the Rim. The Separatists have been mobilising large concentrations of ships and soldiers onto the Perlemian and Rimma Trade Routes. No action has been taken yet, despite the obvious deployments, however.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“This is no coincidence,” Admiral Coburn declared hotly, “With the Bulwark Fleet rampaging across the Core, they must be expecting us to recall our Reserve Armadas to deal with this threat, effectively allowing them free rein over the front lines.”

“Well?” the Chancellor implored, “Must we recall our fleets?”

“That won’t be necessary,” the Admiral denied, “With the Fifth Deep Core Reserve taking their place, the Core will be well-defended once more. We can focus entirely on crushing the Separatists once and for all.”

“The Senate has also successfully passed the Enhanced Security and Enforcement Act. This will greatly expand the powers of Homeworld Security to act outside Coruscant, effectively putting an end to any public disorder and internal conflict on Loyalist worlds.” Senator Tarkin smiled triumphantly, conspicuously glancing at Mon Mothma, “It vote was unanimous… if we ignore those the senators in… indefinite recess.”

“An unfortunate necessity of the times,” Senator Mothma sighed, “The Security Act was a matter of hot debate in the Chandrilan House, but ultimately viewed favourably. I tend to concur with their conclusion.”

“And I am pleased we can finally see eye to eye on this matter, Mon,” Shayla Paige-Tarkin patted her colleague’s back.

The two senators were friends, no matter how distant their views may seem in some places. Both were still members of the same Loyalist Committee for a reason. It was simply a matter of culture; Chandrila was a democracy, while Eriadu possessed a more authoritarian bent. Both were loyal to the Republic, simply in different ways. Ultimately, however, they were sincere, and genuine. Unlike greedy delegates who used their senatorial status to indulge their every whim—like Orn Free Taa of Ryloth–Mon Mothma and Shayla Paige-Tarkin genuinely cared for the well-being of their people.

A perishingly rare trait in the Galactic Senate.

“Very good–” the Chancellor stopped himself as he noticed his Administrative Aide, Sly Moore slinking into his office, “–My dear, do we have guests?”

“Jedi General Anakin Skywalker and his apprentice, Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy,” the Umbaran aide relayed softly, “They arrived from Five-Hundred Republica bearing news.”

“Well then let’s not keep them waiting!”

The two Jedi were swiftly allowed in. Anakin didn’t seem at all bothered that he was interrupting a meeting, but his apprentice had bowed her head down and shrunk in on herself, as if trying to not draw any attention to herself. Palpatine studied the girl carefully, deciding whether she would be any threat to his plans. There was a darkness within her, not so unlike her Master, and a conflict… small, and repressed, but conflict all the same. He decided no, she would not–she could even pose a boon…

“Sorry for the interruption,” Anakin apologised with not a hint of apology, “But I thought this was urgent.”

“It must be,” Master Adi Gallia commented dryly, “If you’re just barging in here.”

“I was allowed in,” the Knight shrugged.

“Please state your piece, Master Jedi,” Director Isard pressed.

“Senator Amidala has been recalled to Naboo,” Anakin Skywalker said bluntly, “I thought the Chancellor should know, since well, you’re both from Naboo.”

Mon Mothma couldn’t contain a soft gasp at the shocking news.

Shayla Paige-Tarkin was not so composed, “Padmé is!? I didn’t hear anything about this!”

“She was just informed,” Anakin explained, “Tallisibeth and I were with her as she got the news. I imagine there will be an official announcement from her staff by the end of today.”

“Was Queen Neeyutnee so displeased with her efforts?” Palpatine didn’t need to pretend to be concerned. He was concerned. It would be much harder to manipulate young Skywalker should Amidala leave Coruscant…