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    Somewhere in the Cato Neimoidia System

    Quellor Sector

    Rear Admiral Calli Trilm had been mulling over their next course of action when her tactical droid approached her with a datapad. Her extemporaneous decision to overshoot the Seyugi System egress to Cato Neimoidia had been well-justified, when a fleet of those new pocket battleships pounced right on top of where they would have been, by way of the Recopi System. In any case, it was definitive proof the GAR, or the Coruscant Home Fleet at least, had created an algorithm capable of deducing their movements.

    It was somewhat of an impossible situation for the 19th Mobile Fleet. Embarking on truly random raids was out of the question; the fleet needed an established line of contact with each other, lest they be grinded down piecemeal from attrition. As such, Calli and her staff had devised a series of patterns that would appear as ‘random’ as possible, whilst allowing the 19th’s raiders to not only predictably communicate with not just each other but more importantly their auxiliaries, but also be efficient and effective in both their search for Dua Ningo and destruction of GAR materiel.

    Unfortunately, should the GAR already have an algorithm in place, then their raids would simply become datasets to feed into their machine. An impossible situation indeed; to achieve their goals, they needed to raid the innumerous worlds in the Core, but the more successful they were in their raids, the faster the GAR could devise a retaliation. It made one question if the endeavour was at all worth the pain and effort. After all, these were seasoned ships and crack spacers, veterans of a hundred engagements. Every warship downed was an incomparable loss.

    To make matters even more concerning, Calli Trilm hadn’t been able to contact the 28th Mobile Fleet at all. She had arranged intelligence frigates along the southern zone of her AO, bordering the 28th’s supposed AO in the Southern Core, and yet they had still not seen hull nor signal of their sister fleet. In fact, the fleets of the Freeworlds Common Navy seemed content with guarding their strongholds on the Rimma Trade Route. There was utterly no sign of any upheaval in the Tapani Federation.

    “It’s because of the Twenty-Eighth, or lack thereof,” Commodore Aviso had told her, with no small amount of severity, “Their presence was supposed to split the GAR’s attention between us. But without their presence in the Core, the Bloodhound’s Home Fleet could level all of their attention on us alone.”

    Calli Trilm rubbed her face. She knew she had jumped the blaster; storming into the Core well before Operation Starlance was ready–but even then, according to the itinerary, the 28th Mobile was supposed to have already been inserted into the Core. But they were nowhere to be seen…

    Stars damn you, Bonteri! Where are you when I need you!?

    They had made an agreement, back at Nanth’ri, to have each other’s back when they were alone in the Core. But how was that possible, when one party wasn’t even present at all? Shit, but it’s still my fault, isn’t it? What if… what if she had been abandoned, and the 19th Mobile was acting alone? What if Independence had called off the operation to cut their losses?

    Calli Trilm’s expression soured at her own thoughts, eyes narrowing into slivers. They wouldn’t know–she couldn’t communicate with the Confederacy whilst in the heart of Loyalist space. At that moment then, Calli wondered the feasibility of simply… withdrawing. She could dispatch a fleet-wide order to withdraw from the Core and regroup in friendlier space. The Core had hardly the forces to stop all of them. It would mean forsaking the operation however, and forsaking Dua Ningo and the Bulwark Fleet. But if that was the price for all of their lives, then Calli Trilm would more than gladly pay it.

    “Rear Admiral,” her tactical droid attempted to catch her attention again, “We have successfully decrypted the Starpath unit.”

    The Rear Admiral glanced down at the data, but her gaze remained hazy, and her attention unfocused, “Isolate the priority targets. Military channels, fleet deployments, anything that can help us penetrate the Bloodhound’s next move.”

    “We already have, Admiral,” Tex’s synthetic, yet dry undertone finally cleared Calli’s head like a piercing gale lifting a fog, “There was a transmission between the Skako and Coruscant Star Systems, about hyperlane registrars, followed by a report announcing the Invasion of Skako.”

    “Skako… invaded?” was such a thing even possible, Calli couldn’t help but ponder.

    “A more recent transmission appears to imply the GAR and Techno Union are already in a ceasefire negotiation,” Tex elucidated, “Nevertheless, this was the last known position of the Coruscant Home Fleet, that we can confirm for certain at the very least. The timing also matches with the following coordinated counterattack that destroyed many of our squadrons.”

    The possibilities the Starpath unit represented raced through the Rear Admiral’s mind, her blood buzzing once more as if she had taken a jab of hard spice. It seemed hope was not all lost just yet. If they can intercept the Bulwark Fleet, they can still escape with a job well done and put the Core behind them.

    “The Bulwark Fleet… and what of the Bulwark Fleet?”

    “We know of an engagement involving the Bulwark Fleet, though we don’t know if the Home Fleet was involved,” Tex said, “Caamas System, east of Skako. According to the report, the Bulwark Fleet then jumped south to the Demophon System.”

    Calli shot to her feet, waving a holographic starchart into existence in front of her captain’s chair and analysing it, “Caamas System… the Bulwark Fleet could have broken out into the Mid Rim from there, but they jumped south instead?”

    “From what we know of Admiral Honor Salima, the Bulwark Fleet’s odd movements could potentially be attributed to her,” the droid drew a line from Skako to Caamas to Demophon, “If that is the case, then Caamas would be the last known location of the Home Fleet.”

    “Did the Home Fleet not report the victory?”

    “Unless Handler One’s archives are incomplete, Skako was the last time the Home Fleet replied to any of Coruscant’s transmissions. The report was sent by the Caamasi System Fleet, not the Home Fleet–the reason we can assume the Home Fleet was present at all, was because the Caamasi System Fleet mentioned transferring a cruiser squadron to the Home Fleet in order to reinforce their numbers.”

    “…Add the data from our intel frigates as well,” the Rear Admiral instructed, “Let’s start painting the pursuit.”

    “Very good, Admiral,” Tex nodded, “From Demophon, the Bulwark Fleet jumped to Vuma in the southeast, where they had been engaged again. Again, we can assume they were engaged in battle there, as the Bulwark Fleet then immediately jumped south to Leria Kerlsil. Our intel frigates discovered Home Fleet elements in the nearby star systems north, northwest, and east of Leria Kerlsil.”

    “They’re shepherding the Bulwark Fleet south,” Calli Trilm immediately, boldly surmised, “Does this fit what we know of the Bloodhound?”

    “It does,” Tex confirmed, “Admiral Honor Salima is known to be an expert in manoeuvre warfare.”

    “Then the only question that remains is where exactly does the Bloodhound want the Bulwark Fleet?” Calli Trilm mused, crossing her arms and eyeing the starchart, “I can only assume she is searching for a suitable battlespace where she can force a decisive engagement… however–”

    “If she can manoeuvre around the Bulwark Fleet so freely, she could have already forced one on her own terms,” her tactical droid finished her train of thought, “According to my calculations; Skako, Caamas, and Vuma should have all been decisive battles where the Home Fleet could have destroyed the Bulwark Fleet in its entirety.”

    “So either we’re dealing with an utterly terrible tactician,” Calli Trilm thought out loud, “Or we’re dealing with another of the Bloodhound’s stratagems. Is there anything else we can glean from Handler One?”

    That made the droid pause, “…Admiral Honor’s destination may be the Rendili Star System. According to a transmission from Coruscant, the Home Fleet may have been given orders to suppress a secession attempt in the Rendili Sector.

    That took the Rear Admiral by surprise, “But why would Rendili secede? Last I heard, their Arch-Provost is a hardline Rendili nationalist, and had done everything in his power to modernise the Rendili StarDrive to meet Kuat’s competition. You can’t convince me he suddenly decided to switch sides after investing so much into Republic infrastructure and warships.”

    “We will only find out if we make for Rendili,” the droid might as well have shrugged, “Reaching Rendili may also allow us to reestablish communication with Star Station Independence, however.”

    “Is that wise?”

    Tex’s response was swift– “Not at all. I believe Admiral Honor Salima is attempting to use the Bulwark Fleet to lure us to Rendili. She seeks not a decisive engagement, but the decisive engagement, in which she can destroy the Bulwark Fleet, the Nineteenth Mobile Fleet, and the Rendili Defense Fleet together in one action.”

    “She doesn’t have the numbers,” Calli pointed out.

    “Not if she regroups with Jedi General Kenobi’s Open Circle Fleet–whose last known location was still Commenor–prior to that,” the droid warned, “Admiral Ningo should have barely a hundred fighting warships, and the Rendili Defense Fleet has no more than two-hundred. We have two-hundred as well, for a total of five-hundred warships. The Coruscant Home Fleet and Open Circle Fleet would make six-hundred warships, with a much heavier tonnage on a per ship basis as well.”

    Stang. Calli Trilm felt the datapad weight heavy in her hands, and mindlessly scrolled the innumerable reports archived onto it. They had to dedicate a number of frigates simply to process the sheer volume of reports coming in and out of Coruscant, with how many exabytes of sheer processing power delegated to simply filtering out which were important and which were some random senator’s under-the-table dealings.

    Until a particular transmission caught her eye. Calli lifted it up to show the tactical droid. It was an inquiry from Coruscant, requesting any available warships from the Anaxes shipyards. No doubt the Republic Admiralty was attempting to muster up a new fleet in response to all the incursions into the Core, but it caught her eye nonetheless. Fiddling with the datapad, she managed to filter out all the tangentially related transmissions. There were much more of the same; mostly inquiries from nearby star systems for any available warships.

    “To suppress the raids in the Agricultural Circuit,” Calli recited a specific line that caught her eye, before looking up at Tex, “Now, what does that remind you of?”

    “…The chances of the Twenty-Eighth Mobile operating in the Agricultural Circuit is infinitesimally small–”

    “What other brainless drydak would be raiding within walking distance of Coruscant itself?” Calli suppressed a laugh, “Wasn’t Bonteri last fighting at Yag’Dhul? The homeworld of the Givin? What are the chances he used some bespoke spacelane to circumnavigate the Deep Core?”

    “And…” the Rear Admiral grinned, waving the datapad pinched between two fingers, “What are the chances we can reach him through Handler One?”

    “Handler One feeds us data from Coruscanti satellites,” Tex snatched the datapad, “It is plausible, if the Twenty-Eighth is within range of the GAR’s communications network. But that runs the risk of the GAR noticing a rogue, even perhaps unauthorised, transmission in their network. We do not yet understand how PRIESTESS operates, Admiral. We could risk self-sabotaging one of the greatest intelligence sources the Confederacy has at its disposal.”

    “Rendili. Trust me.”

    “What.”

    “Send that to him, wherever he is,” Calli said, “Short enough to run past the GAR undetected, if they’re listening, but enough for him to understand.”

    “If he has access to the same data as we do, he’ll understand we’re telling him to enter a trap,” the droid shook his head, “He might not trust it.”

    “Droid.”

    “Admiral?”

    I’m sending it. Me.

    “…Very well, sir.”

    “Dispatch a fleet-wide order; we will regroup in the Rendili Star System!”

    Have I ever, ever, asked you outright to trust me?

    That stupid voice echoed through her head. No, she answered anyway, never.

    Because I know you wouldn’t ask me to trust you. That’s the game, isn’t it? Since the start. So let’s only use that when it counts.

    Recopia Orbit, Recopi System

    Humbarine Sector

    “They’ve taken the bait, Admiral,” Flag Captain Terrinald Screed reported with brevity, but it was enough to tell Admiral Honor Salima everything she needed to know.

    Standing over the holo, Admiral Honor observed the Perlemian Coalition’s Armada convalescing in the Rendili Star System through intermittent updates and reports, pivoting out of their raiding stances and gathering their strength. Not by taking straight vectors, no, as that would make them vulnerable to interception, but via unpredictable routes and many times taking leaps of faith where there were no reliable spacelanes. From afar, it appeared as if they were swirling towards Rendili, like water being flushed down a drain.

    And wasn’t that a fitting metaphor?


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    “Order Captain Dodonna to intercept as many of their warships in transit as possible,” she ordered, “No reason to let them regroup unmolested.”

    “With all due respect, sir,” Terrinald Screed straightened, “This whole strategy hinges on our reinforcements. With all three enemy fleets, they’ll outnumber us three to one–unless the Jedi fleet High Command promised actually arrives.”

    “You doubt the reliability of High Command?”

    “I doubt the reliability of the Jedi,” Captain Screed’s gloved fist tightened, leather straining, “Skywalker failed to destroy Rain Bonteri at Yag’Dhul, and Kenobi allowed Calli Trilm to slip through his fingers not once, but twice.”

    “Yag’Dhul was a group effort,” Admiral Honor Salima noted, “You can hardly level blame at Skywalker without blaming Admiral Yularen, Admiral Jerjerrod, or Governor-General Octavian Grant.”

    “Two Jedi puppets and a sheltered noble who doesn’t know bow from aft,” Captain Screed muttered viciously.

    The room stirred at that comment. How many of the officers on deck were ‘sheltered nobles who don’t know bow from aft’? Many of them, Honor would allege, at least until she whipped them all into shape and took them onto the campaign trail. She would disagree with her flag captain, however, on his assessment of Octavian Grant. He was a noble of the Tapani Federation, yes, but so was Honor a noble of the Coruscant elite. One could hardly escape the label in the Core Worlds. To get anywhere in the Republic Navy, you had to be able to trace your surname to some ancient hero or the other.

    From what she had heard, Grant was capable enough, if reclusive and unwilling to operate outside the Tapani Oversector. But she could hardly fault him for his nationalist bent. Most Tapani were like that. What she could fault him for; letting the Battle Hydra penetrate the Deep Core. On the other hand, if her suspicions proved true, then the Givin of Yag’Dhul surely had a hand in that.

    “Admiral,” a comms officer beckoned her, “We have an incoming transmission from Exodeen… it’s the Open Circle Fleet.”

    Admiral Honor could feel Captain Screed’s stare digging into the side of her head as she ordered the transmission to be patched through. As expected, the white-garbed form of Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared, a young alien girl standing by his side. Togruta, she decided, from her striped montrals. Terrinald Screed sniffed in distaste upon seeing the child. The hologram scanned down for a moment, until the connection stabilised.

    “I wonder why High Command refrained from informing us of the nature of our reinforcements?” the Bloodhound wondered aloud, “Was it because it was the man who failed to catch Calli Trilm twice?”

    The Jedi General’s affable expression never once departed his face, even as he set a firm hand on his protege’s shoulder, “I request we postpone the levelling of hostilities until after we have dealt with the intruders, Admiral. These arguments would be better served on Coruscant than here.”

    Admiral Honor narrowed her eyes, but ultimately tilted her head in agreement, waving her flag captain back, “Very well. So you are to be our reinforcements? And Skywalker?”

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