Chapter 83

Bandomeer Approach, Bandomeer System

Meerian Sector

The Jedi Expeditionary Fleet swept through Bandomeer’s orbit, a great mass of thrust plumes and durasteel that cut through the beleaguered planet’s magnetic field. Venator-class Star Destroyers took the vanguard, their hulls glinting in the pale light of Bandomeer’s distant sun, flanked by a lattice of escort frigates and corvettes, their sensors vigilant for Separatist remnants or incoming reinforcements. Acclamator-class assault ships and Dreadnaught-class heavy cruisers carved through the planetary plane, their thrusters flaring against the planet’s dusty surface.

At the bridge of battlecruiser Hyperion, High Jedi General Plo Koon observed the assault transports and gunships breaking through the atmosphere, squadrons of ARC-170 starfighters and Y-wing bombers descending alongside them, their formation razor-sharp as they ran the Separatist gauntlet.

Plumes of smoke and fire rose from the mining complexes below, where the last remnants of Separatist forces clung desperately to their fortified positions. From his vantage point, the planet’s surface sprawled below–a scarred and desolate expanse dotted with deep mining pits, massive refineries, and skeletal conveyor systems stretching for leagues. Bandomeer had once been a verdant agri-world, but the prospect of vast mineral deposits had transformed the world to such a deplorable state.

Nevertheless, Bandomeer was still a Republic world, fallen into the hands of the enemy.

“General,” Clone Commander Wolffe reported crisply, “General Windu and General Kenobi have secured two of the primary mining hubs. Resistance is strong around the third, but armoured reinforcements are en route.”

“Ensure they advance with caution,” Plo Koon replied, his deep voice filtered through the mask that encased his face, “The Separatists may have left traps near the mines.”

“Very good, General.”

“Master,” Jedi Knight Bultar Swan approached him from behind, “May I have your attention?”

Plo Koon diverted his gaze from the viewports to his former Padawan. It was the first time they had been reunited since the Battle of Geonosis, which the old Jedi Master could only consider as an odd twist of fate as the war nears its end. He was glad to have her at his side once more, however, as the young Kuati woman had grown to be a fine and respected Jedi Knight.

“You need not ask for it, Knight Swan.”

Bultar led him back into the Battle Room, where Jedi Knight Lissarkh awaited them, the Trandoshan’s sharp eyes tracing a complex network of icons suspended over the holoprojection table. The overlay flickered with updates–blue markers signifying formations preparing for hyperspace transition, yellow for those still clearing the gravity well, and red for those yet to arrive.

“Master Plo,” Knight Lissarkh hissed from the tactical console, her tongue flicking, “We need your confirmation. Battle Group Wanderer reports they’ve cleared the well. Seventy-eight ships inserting to hyperspace on vector two-six-three.”

“Confirmed,” Plo Koon replied, his steady voice rising above the hum of the bridge, “Ensure their path is clear through to the Harloen System. Have Wanderer relay status updates at the midpoint.”

“Yesss, Master.”

“Update from the Ninety-First Support Squadron,” Bultar interjected next, “They’ve entered the system and are holding position at the designated staging area. Their freighters are requesting additional clearance for cargo transfers before following the main group.”

“Grant their request,” Plo Koon glanced at the incoming traffic, “Inform Master Jaro Tapal of the development and modify Task Force Albedo Brave’s flight plan.”

“Understood, Master.”

The projection shifted again, a cluster of green icons moving toward the planet’s asteroid field.

“Battle Group Selfless reports successful engagement with enemy remnants near the asteroid field,” Lissarkh added, “They’re pursuing to ensure no enemy vessels attempt to escape.”

“Order Master Keelyvine Reus to expedite her sweep,” the Jedi Master, “We cannot risk delays with so many ships converging here.”

“Yes, General.”

Plo Koon’s gaze swept across the bridge, taking in the flurry of controlled activity as officers coordinated fleet movements and navigation updates. The task of managing an armada as vast as the Expeditionary Fleet was daunting, even for the most seasoned commanders, especially compounded by hostile forces and time constraints. The Meerian Sector–and surrounding sectors–had recently been conquered by General Grievous’ Coreward offensive, and whilst resistance was light here, it would only grow more intense as they pushed Rimward.

“Status of the Seventh Auxiliary Section?” Plo Koon could hear Bultar inquire.

“They’re ssstill navigating the inner orbits,” Lissarkh replied, “Their lead elements should clear the well in twenty minutes, but their bulk transports are reporting minor engine delaysss.”

There was a hint of annoyance in Lissarkh’s sibilant, rasping voice. Frustration, perhaps, at her current responsibility of shepherding the Expeditionary Fleet to their next waypoint at Harloen. Plo Koon could sense it, a subtle knot in the Force that echoed the tension in her words. The Jedi Master avoided faulting her for it; Jedi Knight Lissarkh was once his apprentice too, and he knew not all Jedi could distance themselves from the innate nature of their species.

He had taught her much in the ways of patience and duty, but ultimately, this role of coordination and oversight must have felt like an exercise in endless tedium for a hunter species. Not such a dissimilar plight as Obi-Wan’s, Master Plo mused lightly, considering his tribulations with Ahsoka. Trandoshans and Togrutas were both hunter species, and their heightened senses made any form of serenity and stoicism an ordeal to perform. It was why Jedi Masters like Shaak Ti were so respected.

“General,” Commander Wolffe stormed into the Battle Room, face set grim as the helmet tucked under his arm, “We have a situation.”

Plo Koon looked over his shoulder, “Greater resistance than expected?”

The Clone Commander nodded sharply, “Requesting to deploy the Wolfpack Battalion planetside.”

“Granted,” Plo Koon turned his attention to his former Padawan, “Knight Lissarkh, you will be commanding the Wolfpack.”

Lissarkh snapped up, her pupils dilating in surprise, “Master? But–”

“We will be pleased to have you, Commander,” Wolffe saluted.

“Your orders are to capture the mining hub before rendezvousing with the Seventh Sky Corps,” Plo Koon commanded, “Any following orders will be given to you by General Kenobi. Understood.”

Jedi Knight Lissarkh hastily bowed, “I will not fail, Master Plo.”

“That I do not doubt. May the Force be with you.”

Plo Koon and Bultar Swan watched the backs of the two as they departed, the Trandoshan Jedi already attentively listening to Commander Wolffe’s mission brief. Lissarkh couldn’t quite conceal her eagerness at the change of pace.

“I am afraid you will have to cover for her, Bultar.”

Jedi Knight Bultar Swan bowed dutifully, “That suits me well, Master Plo. I’d prefer not to fight.”

“A noble stance, one all Jedi should strive towards,” the Kel Dor Master clasped his clawed hands behind his back, “But not one appropriate right now.”

Bultar Swan was a Jedi raised in an era where simply igniting a lightsaber was justification enough to warrant a cessation in hostilities. In this tumultuous time, however, the outcome is more often the opposite, where a lightsaber has become a weapon of war rather than a means for peace.

Despite Bultar’s hopes, Plo Koon had a feeling that the time when their lightsabers may be restored to their original purpose was still far off. Bringing Dooku to justice besides, too many lines have already been crossed in this galaxy, and too many bridges broken. It has become exceedingly clear to all that, despite Palpatine’s best wishes, a reunification of the galaxy would no longer be a simple matter. Just as there have been lines crossed, so have there been lines drawn in the sand, and trenches dug in the dirt.

The frontlines have been established, state borders drawn onto maps and starcharts. The Separatist Alliance could no longer be written off as a mere rebellion, an unrecognised state. This has been the case since that peace conference on Onderon, where by agreeing to talks the Republic had unofficially recognised the sovereignty of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Perhaps that was the Pantoran’s stratagem all along; to lure the Republic to the negotiating table and guarantee the legitimacy of the Confederacy–before smashing the negotiation to pieces and re-seizing the initiative.

“–relieve the blockade,” Bultar spoke into the comms, her brows furrowing, “Understood, Master Piell. May the Force be with you.”

“Have they arrived at Taris?” Plo Koon asked.

“Yes, Master,” she answered, “Battle Group Insolent should be lifting the Siege of Taris right now.”

“…Master Piell must not underestimate his opponent,” the Jedi General set his shoulders, “We must not forget that General Grievous is the singular source of all of our Order’s woes.”

Confederate General Grievous… after taking Bandomeer, his fleets were poised to strike at either Taris or Mandalore. While both worlds were in strategically important locations, Grievous ultimately decided to continue up the Hydian Way and invaded Taris. It was a logical decision; Taris was a Loyalist ecumenopolis–a city-world–whilst Mandalore was an ostensibly neutral wasteland. Regardless, it meant the GAR had a vested commitment in liberating Taris–a responsibility they could have shrugged off should General Grievous had attacked the neutral Mandalore instead.

As the Jedi Expeditionary Fleet traversed the Hydian Way, it was only natural it fell on them to liberate General Grievous’ conquests. However, the Taris System laid a thousand light-years north of the Hydian Way, and so the decision was made to have the Expeditionary Fleet continue Rimward, whilst a battle group was dispatched to repel Grievous from Taris. That battle group would be commanded by Jedi Master Even Piell of the High Council and Jedi Master Luminara Unduli.

As for Grievous… there was once a time the Grand Army feared he would be their greatest enemy. Making his appearance in Operation Sidestep, General Grievous slaughtered the Republic’s planetary armies during the Battle of Christophsis, killing nearly half-dozen Jedi Masters and Knights in the process. As General Sev’rance Tann hastily made for Bothan Space, it was his fleets that routed the GAR 13th Sector Army across the entire galactic south.

It was that fateful battle on Christophsis that drove a stake of uncertainty into the Jedi Temple’s reputation, and the source of so many of their political troubles.

Come to think of it, it was the galactic south that spawned so many of the Confederacy’s best soldiers. If he remembered correctly, the Battle Hydra wrote his name into the battle chronicles of the galaxy at Christophsis as well, after repulsing General Kenobi’s relief fleet there. Admiral Trench was a well-known commander even before the war, but nevertheless also made his name fighting in the Andoan Wars in the south. A year later, General Horn Ambigene turned Eriadu into a tomb, and made his moniker feared throughout the stars.

“General Grievous will not fight fairly,” Plo Koon continued, staring intently into the holoprojection, “And if there is one thing we must learn from the Separatists, it is how to think out of the box. They have always strove to invent new technologies, new doctrines, and new stratagems to even the playing field, in light of all of the Republic’s inherent advantages. General Grievous will be the same.”

Bultar Swan paused, uncertainty fleeting across her face like a passing shadow, before inclining ever so slightly, “I will warn them, Master.”

Jedi Master Plo Koon was aware of the subtle ripple in the Force, neither loud nor urgent, but like a scent of petrichor preceding a storm. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, drawing the Force around him like a protective shroud, seeking clarity. His clawed fingers tightened slightly behind his back, but his unease went by neither seen nor noticed. The leathery, masked face of a Kel Dor was impossible to read, if the Kel Dor did not allow it.

May the Force be with you, Master Piell.

⁂

Taris Approach, Taris System

Ojoster Sector

“Knight Swan thought to warn us of General Grievous,” Master Luminara Unduli’s hologram smiled wanly, “How considerate of her.”

“Plo Koon’s words,” Jedi Master Even Piell said gruffly, crossing his arms.

“We should heed them,” the Mirialan Jedi Master warned.

“We should,” Master Piell nodded, eyes darting to and fro across the viewports, “Because this does not look like a world under siege.”

The vast, glistening planetwide city of Taris sprawled before Battle Group Insolent, seemingly untouched by war. There was a distinct lack of Separatist warships over the planet, despite the frantic claims of Taris’ distress call. Any lesser commander might assume the Tarisians to be lying, or at least mistaken, but Even Piell thought otherwise. The battle-hardened Jedi Master soberly analysed the situation, his combat senses tingling. Insolent’s sensors were not picking up any hostile warships…

But Taris was silent, absolutely silent. A truly unsettling anomaly for an ecumenopolis. Nor were her planetary shields raised, which would’ve been the only thing that could block all radiation from the city-world. It could only mean that Taris’ shields had been torn down, and in a matter of weeks at that! General Grievous must be in possession of some truly overwhelming firepower. And despite that, there were no signs of orbital bombardment on that planet at all.

Does the lack of Separatist warships indicate that Grievous had withdrawn prior to their arrival then?

Master Piell was about to voice his thoughts, when noticed Garland’s scanners were pointed at the closest of Taris’ four moons.

“Something the matter, Master Unduli?” he questioned.

“The Battle Hydra once ambushed me by hiding his warships behind moons after luring my ships closer to the planet.”

“Captain Tarkin,” Even Piell beckoned his flag captain, “Launch four snub wings to investigate the Tarisian moons. I want a deep scan of the star system before we approach any closer to the planet.”

“Our scans are already indicating no enemy warships in the vicinity, General,” Captain Wilhuff Tarkin pontificated, “Should General Grievous’ fleet remain in-system, then he must be preparing for a counterattack. We should secure Taris quickly and establish defensive positions around the Tarisian moons.”

Captain Wilhuff Tarkin was a rather contemptuous and opinionated man, one unafraid to voice his concerns about the Jedi–but Master Even Piell found that he was loyal to the Republic nonetheless, and he was not one fault others of their character, so long as they were loyal and dutiful. Captain Wilhuff Tarkin was both, especially proven after the destruction of his homeworld by the Tombmaker, Captain Tarkin did not once stray or falter from his responsibilities as the Flag Captain of Jedi General Piell’s fleet.

For those reasons, the Lannik Jedi Master could tolerate and even respect Captain Tarkin’s presence by his side.

“Captain Tarkin,” the diminutive Jedi General crossed his arms, “The Separatists are known to be in the possession of a long-range weapon, one outranging anything we have to offer.”

“All the more reason to begin securing Taris, General,” Tarkin looked down at him seriously, “This General Grievous may be an uncivilised brute, but even he would not devoid the Separatists of Taris’ resources and industry.”

“You intend to hold the planet hostage?” Even Piell raised a scarred, hairless eyebrow.

“I intend to work efficiently and logically.”

Even Piell found himself deep in thought. Despite Captain Tarkin’s less-than-upstanding reasons, his words were indeed logical and sensible. Despite that, the old Jedi Master still had the feeling it would be a dire mistake to make. The Force warped thickly around the planet like a thick fog, as if Taris itself was shrouded in Grievous’ schemes.

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“Begin identifying insertion sites as soon as the moons are secure, Captain,” the Jedi General finally commanded, “Master Luminara, I would have you split your task force from Battle Group Insolent and prepare to land on the opposite side of the planet. Make every attempt to contact the planetside authorities.”

“Understood, Master Piell. May the Force be with you.”

With a click, the connection was severed, and Task Force Garland began pulling away. The holographic display shimmered as Master Luminara’s image faded, leaving Even Piell alone on the bridge deck. Garland’s ships began adjusting their formations, peeling away from the larger fleet in orderly precision. As they moved, fighter squadrons and troop carriers launched from their motherships, manoeuvring into their escort patterns like a well-rehearsed dance.

Behind him, the quiet hum of the command bridge buzzed with subdued activity, officers murmuring into headsets and datapads flashing with status updates. Even Piell’s presence was enough to keep them focused, though he felt the weight of their unspoken questions pressing on him. He couldn’t ignore the uneasy thrumming in the Force, the sense of something dark moving just beyond the edge of their understanding. With a low sigh, he turned to the nearest comms officer.

“Inform all ships to maintain heightened readiness.”

“Yes, General.”

“General!” a sensor chief suddenly shot to his feet, “We’re picking up unknown signatures from planetside!”

“Hostile warships!?” Captain Tarkin rushed to the edge of the data pit before he did.

“N-No Captain!” the chief’s fingers scrambled across his console, “They look like unarmed transports! Three… four of them!”