Chapter 81

Coruscant, Coruscant System

Corusca Sector

“Report,” Jedi Master Adi Gallia’s footfalls were frantic in her march to the central turbolist of the Jedi Temple.

“With the help of Republic Intelligence,” Jedi Knight Iskat Akaris started first, her long strides easily keeping up with the hasty Tholothian, “We have narrowed down the location of the Sith Lord’s hideout to a single sector. All squads are in position, and are waiting for your green light.”

“Hold position until I arrive,” Gallia replied quickly, “I will lead the assault personally.”

“Understood, Master,” the red-skinned Knight dipped her chin in deference.

“Barriss?”

“I’ve identified seventeen more Sith agents in the Jedi Temple,” Jedi Knight Barriss Offee reported, “Eleven of which are also agents of Republic Intelligence.”

“Have you engaged them?”

“No,” the Mirialan Knight answered, “They’re all on high alert after Heezo’s disappearance… which ironically made finding them easier. But I have not directly engaged them.”

“Make all of them disappear,” Adi Gallia ordered simply, her deathly visage forcing the crowded gallery of the Temple to part before her like dust before a cosmic wind, “We only need one or two for questioning. Find the rest, if any. We can’t have any unaccounted loose ends before the operation.”

Barriss was silent, but the Jedi Master knew she had acknowledged her.

“Anything new on the Delta Source investigation?”

“I have my suspicions on a number of locations in the Temple where it is present,” Barriss started, “But nothing definitive. The Delta Source is almost certainly not present everywhere. I’m working on finding a common link between all the locations.”

“Delta Source is hiding in plain sight,” Jedi Knight Bode Akina gritted his teeth, “And that is what makes it most infuriating of all.”

“I see,” the Jedi Master murmured emotionlessly, “And PRIESTESS?”

Barriss Offee side-eyed Bode Akuna, “Ready and waiting.”

“Agree,” Knight Akuna adjusted his sleeves, “We’ve acquired definitive proof of communication between the Chancellor Palpatine and Count Dooku. With all the gathered evidence of the Executive Office’s corruption, the manifesto is complete, and PRIESTESS will broadcast it to the entire galaxy.”

“We need to dispatch the manifesto to our allies in the Inner Systems first,” Master Gallia reminded them, “So that they may review the evidence and prepare accordingly.”

“…Duly noted, Master.”

“You sound displeased, Bode,” Iskat Akaris jabbed her elbow into his side.

“I struggle to stomach the fact that this entire operation hinges on a Separatist spy network,” Bode grumbled.

“A Separatist spy network so deeply embedded in the Grand Army’s communication infrastructure that not even Intelligence knows it exists,” Barriss mollified, “All eyes are on the Jedi Temple right now, as we prepare the Expeditionary Fleet. We must assume the Chancellor and Republic Intelligence will be monitoring all communication–not just from the Temple, but from all Coruscant. The one place they won’t be looking is their own military satellites.”

‘Especially after they swept them all in the wake of the terrorist attack’ was left unsaid. The fact that PRIESTESS–whatever it was–could remain hidden even after Republic Intelligence’s closest scrutiny was proof enough of the network’s efficacy. Adi Gallia had to admit, the Confederacy’s digital engineers were second to none, and far outstrips the Republic’s. And with the desertion of the Rendili Defense Fleet to the Separatist Alliance as well, it was a foregone conclusion their starship engineering field would begin catching up in leaps and bounds.

The technological gap between the Republic and the Separatists was closing at an alarming rate, and the days of assuming an edge in officer talents had vanished as the Outer Rim produced monsters like Sev’rance Tann, Trench, Rain Bonteri, and Calli Trilm. Even the Republic’s venerable military tradition found itself counterbalanced by the Confederacy’s rapid adoption of Tann’s military reforms. Now, it was the Republic’s industrial behemoth–its vast, seemingly endless production capacity–that kept the war in balance, its sheer scale eclipsing the Outer Rim’s by an order of magnitude, allowing it to sustain the heavy losses incurred in battle after battle much better than the Confederacy.

But even that edge, some whispered, might not hold forever. The Crisis in the Core–unleashed by what the Confederate Armed Forces had dubbed Operation Starlance–had allowed Admiral Trench to reclaim the Confederacy’s most critical production sectors and enabled General Farstar to shield the vital commercial hubs along the Corellian Run. Nothing enough to directly challenge the Republic’s industrial supremacy, but it was enough to drive home a hard truth: victory would not come as swiftly as once thought. And that was to say nothing of the spectre of rebellion hovering ever nearer, known only to a select few.

“Master Gallia,” Bode Akuna suddenly asked as the turbolift lobby came into view, “Forgive me, but I must ask… is this operation truly necessary?”

“If you want to stop it, Bode,” Master Gallia murmured, “It is already too late. Too many plans, schemes have been set into motion. Even if I wanted to call it off, there is no slowing down its momentum.”

After a period of strangled silence, the Jedi-Republic Intelligence operative blew out an explosive sigh, “It just seems like we have different priorities. The Sith must be rooted and destroyed, yes, but would destroying the Republic in the process be worth it?”

Adi Gallia paused, arm freezing as she reached out to summon the lift, “The Republic is already dying, Bode. If we let the Sith see this war to its end, there won’t be a Republic left to destroy.”

“But we can– we could’ve…” the Human struggled with his words.

“We could’ve destroyed the Sith, and revived the Republic?” the Jedi Master turned around, an eyebrow raised, “Without risking a civil war? Is this what you intend to say?”

Bode clenched his fists, and Barriss took a step forward, “I believe he intends to say we could’ve gone about this without plunging the Republic into another civil war, that we didn’t have to consign ten million more deaths to the galaxy.”

There was troubledness lurking behind the eyes of the two Knights, as if they were still wrestling with the terrible creature they were plotting to unleash. Unlike them, Iskat Akaris held no such reservations. Adi Gallia held in an exasperated breath. It was precisely this situation that prevented her from informing the Jedi High Council of the details of their plot. Because it is unavoidable that the Jedi–

“You love the Republic,” she informed them factually, “You cannot bear to see it end like this.”

Bode nearly flinched, “Why would I love the Republic–?”

“You love the idea of the Republic,” Master Gallia said gently, “You love this civilization, the only civilization the galaxy has ever known. You love this civilization, because without it there is no order to keep the peace, only chaos and with it war.”

“Sounds like an apt summary for what we are trying to do,” Iskat laughed blandly.

“But the Republic is not civilization,” she continued, “That… misunderstanding… is the idea the Sith so desperately peddle. The idea that the Republic is order and civilisation, and that the Confederacy is chaos and barbarism and primitiveness and savagery because they are not the Republic. I’m sure this propaganda is of passing familiarity to you?”

The three Jedi Knights were quiet, listening intently.

“This idea is one not even the Jedi can escape,” the Jedi Master lamented, looking up the turbolift shaft, as if she could see the High Council at the very tip of the spire, “It is convincing, enticing, seductive. So much so that even Jedi Masters of the highest order have fallen for it.”

“That’s Palpatine’s final trap for the galaxy,” Adi Gallia finished, “To make the idea of civilization so palatable that everyone would be eager to swallow even his version of it. That’s why he puppets this war.”

“Then… then what?” Bode demanded, “We destroy civilization? Is that what we are doing?”

Adi Gallia sighed like a teacher whose student didn’t absorb her teachings, “No, Bode. Only this civilization. We are going to tear it apart so horribly until not even the Sith can put it back together and necromance it into a dark facsimile to lord over.”

“Stop loving the Republic–unlike other attachments, like people and objects, it will not ever return the favour. Love civilization instead, the civilization that can coexist with others, the civilization can prosper in order and peace and burn in chaos and war. The civilization that can pick up its pieces on its own and put itself together no matter how many times it falls apart. If that exists, then it means the people still hold onto hope, and the galaxy is still moving forward, not stagnating like this rotten corpse we call the Republic.”

She summoned the turbolift, and entered its capsule, “You have your stations. Bode, return to Republic Intelligence and monitor the situation. Barriss, you will remain here in the Temple as our insurance in case anything goes wrong. Iskat, your skills will be best put to work with me on the field. We pull this off well, and we kill the Sith without any need for a civil war. Any last objections?”

The three Knights shook their heads. Adi Gallia smiled. They have collected all the cards in their hands, and every front has been accounted for. Their final assault on the fortress of the Sith would come from all directions. All the cards were in their hand… and now it was time to throw it on the table, and hope for the best.

“Then may the Force be with you, no matter where you may wander,” she wished them the old adage, and they responded in kind.

The doors slammed shut. It would be the last time the four of them would be together in one place ever again.

⁂

Argazda Orbit, Argazziis System

Kanz Sector

My datapad pinged, a notification popping up. I read it, one ear listening to the Skakoan’s maintenance report.

“My engineers estimate will be able to operate Number One again in three hours,” Bunt Dantor informed me.

I resisted the urge to rub my face. Is it the gun, or is it the Techno Union? It took five standard days to silently travel from Korphir to Argazda, and in the entirety of that time Number One was under repairs. One week of downtime between shots! Practically 125 hour reload cycle! What kind of batshit insane weapons engineer thought this was acceptable!? Oh wait, he was standing right in front of me!

Taking a blank expression as a cue to continue, the Skakoan scientist coughed through his pressure suit, “Now that we have calibrated the weapon’s highest output shot, we can calculate the most optimal energy input to balance power and efficacy.”

Ah, I see. So they effectively overpowered the first shot to use it as a constant variable from which they could calibrate the guns. I wonder why they didn’t do that while the ship was under construction… or was that the very first time Conqueress’ fired? The notion sent shivers down my spine. What if something had gone wrong? I was half urged to ask, but decided it would be better for my health to remain ignorant.

Fuck. I should change flagships.

But to what? A Givin Wavecrest?

“We will need a larger sample size to continue optimising the firing cycle, however,” Bunt Dantor continued, ignorant of my inner panic, “If we had been able to analyse the results back at–”

“We fired a single round,” I interrupted him, “A single round at an interdiction nexus. It would be hubris to assume an entire fleet could be destroyed in the fallout, as had been stationed in Korphir. And, if I had reviewed this ship correctly, I recall that Conqueress is woefully deprived of close combat weaponry.”

“Well, that’s because–”

“Yes, yes, superweapon and all that,” I waved him off, standing up slowly, “All superweapons must have an obvious weakpoint, I am well aware of that design philosophy.”

“Pardon–”

“Thank you for your report, chief,” I smiled at the Skakoan, “Please keep up the good work. I am counting on you.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Bunt Dantor staggered–as much as he could stagger in his metal coffin–but bent stiffly nonetheless, “I am at your service, Admiral.”

As he returned to his station, I headed toward the rear of the bridge, where a short corridor connected the pilothouse to the Combat Information Center. And aboard Conqueress, the CIC was nothing short of monumental–larger, even, than the command spaces on most Providence-class battlecruisers. Of course, it had to be. Conqueress was a dedicated long-range artillery and command platform, designed to operate from the rear of any fleet action, far from direct fire.

Everything about her design revolved around that role; her entire superstructure housed expansive intelligence and targeting systems, all required to coordinate and accurately land the titanic strikes from her main battery. Entering her CIC felt like stepping into a digital brain; a seamless, multilevel network of data links, sensor feeds, and targeting arrays, orchestrated to project her fire across impossible distances with ruthless precision. For a ship like this, a state-of-the-art combat nerve centre wasn’t just expected–it was essential.

And that also meant a communications and electronic warfare suite that would put even the latest Munificents to shame. Again, it was all but necessary to her survival on the battlefield.

I found Augur at one of those stations. He had summoned me here, after all.

What I wasn’t expecting, however, was the details upon his console. A familiar silhouette shone there, shaped like a finned dagger. Below read: Munificent-class frigate, Repulse. Briefly, I wonder where that old friend of mine was now. A Sullustan breaking yard, most likely. It was a bitter thought.

“She was my old flagship,” I pulled a nearby chair over, taking a seat next to the droid, “Something about her sparked your interest?”

“Statement: I must know about my commander to synergise with them and dispatch orders effectively,” Augur did not divert his photorecepting gaze, “This is necessary homework.”