R4 was hitting me again.

  “Maker on high, droid. Can’t ya’ let me be hungover in peace?” I ask.

  A series of beeps and whistles insulting my liver, my brain, my decision making skills and the idiots who decided I was a good choice for taking command of over five thousand other souls and millions of credits in hardware directly and some couple billion souls indirectly later and I swat her arm away as she goes for another smack against my head.

  “Ugh, tell me how you really feel.” I moan as I slide out of bed.

  Another series of beeps and whines, more sorrowful. Something about not wanting me to drink myself into an early grave. How my job is dangerous enough.

  “Fine, you can lock the liquor away for the rest of the duties on Dac.” I say. At this point I’d let her take my nuts to make her stop winging and hitting me. Not like I’d need them anyway.

  A couple of agreeable whistles and an almost immediate locking sound as the cabinet I had stored the booze in is locked.

  “Maker knows how I put up with ya.” I say as I walk over to the shower to get clean.

  While drying myself off I take a look at today’s agenda. Parliament was off on a one day recess, public holiday I think, so a meeting with Chief Nossar Ri and Commander Tamson, followed by meeting with the other Republic delegates. I should probably prepare for a quick, independent getaway now, if the situation continues to deteriorate, better safe than sorry. I take a sip of caf from a cup R4 offered me, not to mention the Republic would never send me a corvette just to get me back to my command.

  I start packing my things, while leaving some of the less important things still scattered about in a purposefully organized mess. It wouldn’t do for any staff members to sneak in and see me ready to skip town. Coward I was not, but I know I’m far more useful in orbit commanding my squadron than on the surface as a single combatant. So I should start looking for a smuggler or two for possible transport.

  I get into my wetsuit and grab a cab back to the capitol, forgetting to grab something to eat in the process. I regret my lack of breakfast almost immediately as my mild hangover persists for a decent bit longer than I would have enjoyed. The cab drops me off near the mayoral offices of the capitol and I tip the driver. I slowly swim over to the Chief’s residence within the capitol and patiently wait in the lobby until the appointment comes up.

  They make me wait an additional eight minutes after the meeting was supposed to begin. I suppose when one may be preparing for a civil war it would be understandable. I’m lead to the office by a Quarren secretary and am let into the room to find the Chief and Tamson in discussion.

  “-we will be doing no such thing until the negotiations are finished. That is final.” The Chief says and the Karkarodon slowly if reluctantly nods.

  I clear my throat and watch as the two aquatic sentients turn to me. I begin talking as they do so: “If I am interrupting battle plans I am more than happy to return with my squadron.”

  “No, we were merely discussing the possibility for the Chief’s inevitable coronation. Your threats do not scare us.” Tamson deflects.

  “Of course, my apologies. Honorable Chief Ri, as always it is a pleasure to see you.” I say with a bow.

  “As usual it is a pleasure to meet with you as well, Commodore.” The Chief replies.

  “I suppose if you are already conducting … coronation plans that whatever I have to say will simply be used against the Republic?” I ask.

  “We are still open to compromise.” The Chief says.

  “That you may be, but I know that a Separatist is not willing to negotiate with any member of the Republic unless they have a boot pressing down on your windpipe.” I reply.

  The Quarren looks off to the side as he speaks: “Did you have anything of importance to say, Commodore.”

  “I suppose if the situation has deteriorated to this point only one thing, your honor. Fondor too once held a magnificent beauty. I have seen the few holopics still kept within my family, they are stunning and almost anathema in comparison to what Fondor is now, with her deserts and cities. Fondor became how she is because the old ruling families, of which I am a member, tried to fix Fondor’s ecosystem during a time of war, leaving our world vulnerable to the other Core worlds and much later the Sith. There were few chances that Fondor could return to her beauty, yet they were all squandered due to inaction and poor timing. I ask you not to make a similar mistake to that which flung two thousand of the ruling families into extinction and hurled my family alongside nine thousand others into political and economical obscurity.”

  The Karkarodon swims uncomfortably close to me as he speaks: “Yet Mon Cala is prospering. Her industry is strong and her beauty nigh untouchable. I find it interesting that you would even consider such a comparison, especially with Fondor complying well within the Confederacy of Independent Systems.”

  I tap my holster and straighten my back: “I have it from trusted sources that Fondor is aflame after your Confederacy cut the rations and docked the pay.”

  “A few fools always attempt to subvert the communal good.” Tamson retorts.

  “Just as there are always parasites who feast on a hard man’s good work. I find it intriguing how many of such parasites are to be found within the Confederacy.” I snap back.

  “I believe you will find a dozen times more of such creatures within the Republic, Hussar.” Tamson counters, his voice leaking malice.

  “I find it hard to take your argument seriously when you are the very type of waterstealing creature which you claim I serve.”

  “You dare name me a simplistic beast?”

  “Hard not to when you appear to be one. Maybe I should do to you what any Fondorian would do to a waterstealing parasite.” I threaten, my left hand suddenly finding itself inches away from the Karkarodon’s face.

  “I should tear you limb from limb!”

  “Then we should just get over with it and fight one another!” I bark back.

  “You wouldn’t last ten seconds.” Tamson threatens, slapping my hand away from his face as he does.

  “It only takes one shot.” I threaten back.

  “For a weak human, certainly.” The bastard says, as he leans over me.

  “GENTLEBEINGS!” Chief Ri interrupts as he enters the space between us, “This is not how civilized sentients behave!”

  I back away first, the Karkaradon following my lead a moment later. Chief Ri clears his throat before continuing: “Commodore, I would ask you to apologize to Commander Tamson.”

  My gaze hasn’t moved away from Tamson as I feel my right eye twitch, pulling at the remnant scar tissue from my head injury forever ago. I close my eyes for a moment before continuing: “Chief Ri, I apologize to you for insulting a guest under your roof. Commander Tamson, I apologize as well. I should not have alluded to your … more questionable ethics. It was not my intention to harm your sensibilities.”

  Chief Ri seems to have accepted that this will be the best apology he will get from me towards the Separatist bastard. Ma’ would’ve threatened me with her horrible cooking if I ever tried to apologize to her like that. He sighs anyway before accepting the apologies: “Yes, we accept and thank you for seeing the error in your ways.”

  “If that is all, honorable Chief, I would take my leave and give you my parting words.” I say, my eyes finally breaking their lock on Separatist Commander to turn towards the Quarren leader.

  “Go ahead, Commodore.” The Quarren says.

  “Your people, alongside all the other people of Dac will be starving and enslaved like those who protested for the rations to be returned on my homeworld. When this happens, and I do mean when and not if, the Republic will welcome you back into the fold, like a father his foolish child. May the Maker preserve you and all Dac. Good day, your honor.” Silently the fear that plagued me most turned its ugly head, because if the Republic doesn’t forgive the jewel that is Mon Cala what hope does Fondor have? What hope would my family have?

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “May Dac’s Tides keep you safe.” The Quarren replies. I bow and leave. They were further along than I suspected. I needed to get the shit out of dodge now. The Capitol was no longer safe and neither was the hotel. My squadron would be needed on standby asap and I wouldn’t leave them to fight alone. At this point I should have it moved between Ruisto and Dac if possible. Ruisto was Mon Cala’s first colony, her portion of the Merchant Fleet was currently in orbit. I’m sure I’ll be able to convince them to allow my squadron to be stationed in the first daughter of Mon Cala’s orbit.

  I pull out my comm and punch in R4’s personal numbers. I wait a moment before I punch in the binary message, not trusting anyone swimming about to not overhear what I say. It boils down to ‘finish packing, prepare a uniform for me, begin evacuation protocols up to actual evacuation.’ With the message sent I move closer to the surface.

  Soon enough I see a Consular class corvette approaching the city and I quietly curse whatever fool thought this was a good idea. I try to accelerate my swimming to the surface and break the surface as one of the docking hatches open. A moment later a ladder is thrown down and I begin to climb up.

  Once I reach the top I tear off my helmet and start my tirade on some poor and likely confused Clones with dark blue markings: “Who in their right mind ordered you to bring this military vessel above a planetary capitol? Never mind that, turn this ship around, you will land it in the appropriate landing pads at Archipelago City, do you understand me troopers?”

  One helmeted face shifting over to the other, who shrugs. I sigh and pull out my identification cylinder. I hold it out to one of the Clones and speak: “I am Commodore Thraken Dericote of the 97th Outer Rim Squadron, temporary Adjutant Administrator of the North East Slice Command. I am the temporary delegate of the Republic to Dac and her governance. I assume, you are the ship transporting her honor Senator Padmé Amidala and Jedi Knight Skywalker.”

  One of the Clones answers me as the other runs my codes on a datapad: “Yes, sir. We were not expecting you. We think the Senator is finishing changing into her diving suit. I believe the General planned on meeting you planetside.”

  “Well there has been a change of plans. Comm the bridge to bring us back to the appropriate landing pads, if Skywalker or Amidala give you any trouble come to me, I will more than happily poach a couple troops not being treated according to their station.” I reply as I receive my cylinder and march towards the corvette’s bridge. The hallways reminded me of the ones of my first ship, Maker knows I didn’t miss that ship, though poaching Faxe was a good decision.

  I hear some weird thumping noise form one of the rooms and shrug it off. Maker knows I used to have trouble putting on my boots when I first started the academy, never mind the karking wetsuit. I finish marching up to the cockpit and find two Clone pilots talking quietly.

  “Did you two not receive the orders I gave from your comrades at the docking port?” I ask, slipping into my officer’s voice like a well worn glove.

  The two pilots turn their heads around, looks of surprise on their shared faces. I ignore the look and continue talking anyway: “Get on with it. Bring us to the original landing pad. It should only add half an hour or so on daily transit for the delegates. Hop to.”

  The lead pilot speaks up: “Sir, we’re supposed to stay just above the surface.”

  “Yes, let’s leave a Republic warship above the capitol of Dac. Do neither of you realize the messaging behind it? If the General or Senator complain I’ll take full responsibility.”

  The Clones exchange glances before moving the ship back to Archipelago City. It takes a surprising three minutes before an angry looking twenty two year old in a wetsuit enters the cockpit and places a robotic arm on my shoulder spinning me around in the process. I don’t even notice myself pulling the slugthrower and leveling it at the General’s gut.

  My eyes widen in shock, his in surprise and I immediately try my damnedest to apologize for almost shooting a superior officer as I re-holster the slugthrower: “I am terribly sorry, sir. You surprised me and I just had a quite stressful meeting with his honor Chief Ri and Commander Tamson of the Separatist Alliance. It was not my intention to threaten my superior officer without due cause.”

  Skywalker seems to be rebooting like an overwhelmed Protocol droid before he speaks: “You’re fine, I should have seen this coming. Why are we moving away from the capitol?”

  “Sir, I hate to be the person to say this, but you do know how it looks if a Republic warship is stationed above a planet’s capitol during the debates on leadership.” I answer.

  Another voice joins us in the increasingly cramped cockpit: “I told him the same thing, he insisted that the sooner we were there the sooner this entire mess could be over with.”

  With Skywalker moving to the side to give the Senator easy access to the cockpit I can also finally see the Naboo native in person. I suppose she is prettier in person than on holo, not like it really mattered. At this point I realize I never conducted the formal introduction due to threatening a superior officer.

  I snap a salute and begin rattling off per procedure: “Commodore Thraken Dericote of the 97th Outer Rim Squadron, 347th Outer Rim Section and the Little Revenge, sir and ma’am.”

  “At ease.” The Senator says, “I suppose you are the one who ordered the ship back to Archipelago City.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I reply, still a bit more tense than usual.

  “Would you join us in my office? I am sure we have more to discuss now while our luggage is moved.” The Senator says.

  “If you believe that to be wise, ma’am.” I reply and follow the two down to the escape pod mixed with senatorial quarters. Because why would a Senator need to fear dying on a ship when they can take all their shit with them on an escape? I successfully repress the sigh at the thought.

  They of course do not use the ladder, which would not only be too hard for the poor Senator, but too undignified for her office. I roll my yes as we take the stair near the engine block instead, karking Senators. Ma’ would complain whenever that Huttslut Senator Rodd showed up at her office. In his defense a decent chunk of the hostility was because he kept flirting her and trying to convince her to become his mistress. Only reason why pa’ hasn’t shot him dead in an honor duel was because it’d probably lead to a couple ‘accidents’ befalling ma’, pa’ and at least a handful of cousins.

  My train of thought returns to the present as we finish descending the stairs. We make it to the Senator’s quarters soon enough and the Senator sits down while the General stands at her right, crossing his arms as he does. I remain standing at parade rest. The interior was nice enough. A couple wooden desks and a portrait of the Supreme Chancellor in some style I wasn’t familiar with.

  “You may sit, Commodore.” The Senator says.

  “I would prefer remaining standing, ma’am.” I reply.

  “Of course, have there been any more developments since our last discussion?” The Senator inquires.

  I really wish I had R4 with me, she currently had all my notes within her fuselage and I was feeling a tad under prepared to give off a full report without her help. None the less I had been ordered to provide and provide I shall: “I held a meeting with Senator Tills and Captain Ackbar, they attempted further negotiations behind closed doors with his honor Chief Ri, unfortunately based off of the meeting I had with his honor and Commander Tamson I believe their attempt to have been in vain.”

  “So civil war seems likely?” The Senator asks.

  “Inevitable. I am already preparing my departure to be as soon as possible. I am of little use here, now that you have arrived your honor.” I answer.

  “Hold on now,” The General says, “we could very well still use some of your local connections.”

  “Sir, all due respect, but I have exhausted any connection I had with his honor Chief Ri already. Tamson has his teeth too deep in him. As for Mayor Raddus, he has assured me his contacts in the Merchant Fleet are prepared and willing to cooperate with a Republic intervention force. He knows of at least fifteen Dac Merchant Fleet capital ships which will intend to stay loyal to the Republic no matter who initiates the conflict and two sections of MC30c frigates and a battleship section of the most recent MC80 Liberties which will all stay loyal to his majesty the Prince.”

  “You are indeed preparing for battle in orbit and under the waves.” The Senator presses.

  “Yes ma’am. Furthermore we believe it possible to secure most if not all of the Rendili garrison of six Dreadnought heavy cruisers if we intervene early enough when the system is still reeling. I have the 10th Halla Sector Volunteer Regiment on standby for possible boarding actions and defense of Archipelago City and Dac City. We have managed to secure enough supplies to outfit a quarter of them as additional boarding troops alongside Hope Company and my squadron’s arms-men. My unit is as prepared as possible for the upcoming battles.”

  “Very well, we will still try to convince the Quarren to stay loyal to the Republic.” The Senator says.

  “I expected nothing less, ma’am. With your permission, as senior delegate, I would request my dismissal and return to my squadron. If you require my droid can send the comms channels I have of multiple local sources, the most reliable media sources I have found and my preliminary reports. If you require an excuse for why I have become absent now I have a myriad of them my droid would be willing to leave with you.” I say.

  “You’re not staying?” Skywalker asks.

  “Sir, I am at my most useful to the Republic when standing on a bridge and making enemy ships explode while keeping mine intact, just like the Senator is the most useful on the Senate floor and you are the most useful taking on enemy Force wielders.” I reply.

  Skywalker speaks then: “I would think I am best at destroying droids and taking back worlds.”

  I slowly turn my gaze at the younger man and give him the look that my pa’ would give me whenever he caught me out drinking, a terrifying mix of disappointment and mild curiosity for my decision making process: “The recent generations of Jedi are the most useful at fighting Force users, not leading armies. We had the Judicial Forces for a reason, sir.”

  “An interesting opinion, Commodore.” The Senator interjects, “I would ask you to stay on at least until the meeting with his highness Prince Lee-Char.”

  “I’ve met the boy before. He is a decent heir, but he requires a regent for at least a few years. It was why I pressed our Mon Calamari allies to offering said regency to his honor Chief Ri. However with negotiations failing I see little purpose in it when I can instead arrive at my squadron by the time his majesty inevitably fails to rally further support.” I counter.

  “Have you so little faith in your allies?” The Senator presses.

  “Have you no sense of when a situation has gone to all nine Hells?! My reports to you are as accurate to the situation as I can perceive it. With this informal report now I am informing you mam, that the situation for a peaceful solution is nigh impossible.” I shoot back.

  “I am very much aware on how such a situation looks and feels. Are you absolutely certain you are of no use here?” She asks.

  “Unless you wish me to start dueling the opposition I doubt it. You outrank me in the administrative level, Senator and General Skywalker outranks me in the military. Furthermore Tamson and I have been needling one another ever since I agreed with him to table the last parliamentary hearing. Not to mention our exchanged threats of dueling one another. He’d probably be dead already if it weren’t for Chief Ri’s intervention. A new pair of faces may calm him or lure him into a false sense of superiority.” I answer.

  Skwalker pipes up at that: “I thought officers dueling was outlawed.”

  “It was outlawed as a part of the Ruusan Reformation, which was almost entirely repealed when this war began, sir. It fell under the reforms targeting the change from the old Republic Navy to the Judicial forces. It’s mainly kept hushed up, but if you’re from an old Navy family or from a dueling world you learn early on about how, why and where to challenge someone. Interestingly enough a baseless accusation of treason is more than enough.” I answer with a chuckle.

  The Senator blinks in surprise: “I fear your definition of baseless.”

  “No evidence, ma’am.” I answer, “If there is no evidence a duel can be demanded on right of highest slander and muddying the waters behind the true cost of treason. Tamson needed a reminder on that and luckily for him his honor the Chief tugged back on the fool’s leash.”

  Best not mention that I threatened an Admiral with a similar opportunity. Or exactly how close Tamson and I had gotten to trying to kill one another in a questionably civilized manner. I almost hide my smirk at his face. I should comm my pa’ later to thank him again for bringing me to the range and drilling me in shooting slugthrowers.

  “Ma’am I hate to press this, but unless you want my, in all honesty, superfluous presence, I would recommend permitting me to return to my squadron.” I say.

  “Fine, you can go to your squadron.”

  “Anakin!” The Senator says in exasperation.

  “Thank you sir. I will commend you both in my report for cooperation and understanding. If that is all, I believe we have landed. Would you prefer I storm off angrily or remain calm and professional, ma’am?” I say.

  The Senator sighs before giving her answer: “You may go professionally, Commodore. I thank you for your insight and cooperation.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” I reply before saluting the two and heading back to my hotel room.

  I would like to say that leaving Dac was easy. However it was not. When I started heading towards the small space dock in the city, luggage in hand, where the smuggler I had hired was waiting I was assailed by a flurry of reporters, each and every one of them demanding I answer their stupid ass questions.

  “Sir, why are you leaving Dac?”

  “Commodore, is it true you have destroyed neutral shipping?”

  “Sir, what is your relationship with Captain Luis Sicato?”

  “Sir, do you believe the negotiations to be futile? Should people begin to evacuate the system?”

  “Why did you invade the neutral system, which was Targonn?”

  “Do you believe the moniker Black Hussar is fitting?”

  “Where you dismissed by Senator Amidala of Naboo for Separatist sympathies?”

  “Is the Republic abandoning her intentions to return to Mon Cala?”

  “Will Dac be abandoned by the Republic?”

  “Will the 97th Outer Rim Squadron be diverted to another front?”

  “Are we in danger of a Separatist invasion?”

  “SHUT IT!” I shout.

  “I will answer a single question.” I offer, a flurry of recorders are shoved towards my face and I pick one at random.

  “Mon Cala Sector News Network Alliance. Commodore, why are you leaving the system, are we in danger?”

  “We are at war, we are always in danger. I am leaving on Navy business and returning to my squadron. Senator Amidala agreed with my request and the request of the Navy to end my temporary dignitary status slightly earlier to return to my administrative duties. Long live the Republic and good day.” I finish and storm through the crowd of grasping reporters, R4 following my path.

  Gratefully the vultures only follow me for another block before I can get them off my trail and finally get to the smuggler. From there it was thankfully uneventful. I start picking out the defenses from my room’s view port, ten Golan I class and five new Golan II class defensive installations. Those would be hard to crack and as far as I knew Raddus hadn’t given me a likely division of them yet.

  Maker preserve me if this goes to shit, no when this goes to shit.