There was almost an incident when the smuggler’s ship entered the location of my Command near the edges of Mon Cala space. Apparently the gunnery crew on the Baros’ Fist were a tad jumpier than the regulations would usually allow and had fired a single turbolaser at the modified YV-865 transport. Thankfully the battery Lieutenant stopped them from any more fire and my identification codes cleared everything up nicely.

  I was back on my bridge, calmly starring at space while some recently rowdy midshipmen were bringing my luggage back into my quarters with R4 heckling them the entire time. It was nice, calming even to be back on my ship. I felt decently relaxed for the first time since I had set foot on Dac.

  After giving the bridge to Sergeant Slas I return to my quarters and start finishing up my report. An hour later I send it off and go to bed. I never considered I would miss the slightly too hard mattress, but Maker it was wonderful. I fell asleep a few minutes later.

  The alarms are blaring. I jump out of bed and throw on my uniform as quickly as possible. I rush out of my quarters, R4 trailing me, while still putting on my outer jacket and donning my belt in a run. I reach the bridge while putting on my gloves and readjust my officers cap as I start barking orders.

  “GIVE ME A SITREP!”

  Sergeant Slas speaks as she returns to her station: “Sir, transmission from Mon Cala, a Separatist and Quarren offensive has begun in the capital and multiple C.I.S. battleships have entered system already. They’re securing parts of the shipyards and dockyards.”

  “JUMP NOW!” I bark and the 97th Outer Rim Squadron, alongside the Baros’ Fist, and the Acclamator Guard Hound jump into hyperspace not even a minute later.

  I watch as hyperspace swirls around. It would take a couple hours until we reach the system. The 99th Battleship Section at Baros would arrive next maybe an hour later if they were being proactive, maybe half a day later if they were being conservative. No matter what the 599th should arrive a bit after a day with the Pride of Toong’l, Shining Star and the temporary DP20. After that there should be about a section’s worth of supporting ships around Targonn which should arrive maybe an hour or so after the 599th. Then again, any date we’d currently have would probably be outdated by a couple days. Even a minute difference in planetary positioning could mean the difference between our reinforcements arriving an hour early or days late. Maker preserve me this would be chaos.

  “Sergeant, did we receive any other information?” I ask, trying to calm myself before the storm.

  “Confirmed seven MC75 battleships have deserted alongside one MC80 Liberty and thirty two MC30c frigates, sir. Merchant Fleet loyalists have taken up defensive positions, but the command ship, an MC75, the Mon Cala, is contested and the commanding Admiral and her second in command are presumed dead by assassination alongside most of the loyal squadron leaders. When we enter system it seems highly likely you may be the commanding officer of the entire defense, sir.” The Sergeant replies.

  “Maker preserve us.” I whisper. This was larger than I had ever feared. I had expected to serve under the command of a more experienced Admiral and I felt the weight land on my shoulders. It takes a moment for me to calm myself, I had trained for this on Carida. This was what my officer’s training was for. I would need to squeeze every drop of water from the vaporators for this.

  “Alright,” I say, “Mi-Kus, I need you to take responsibility for the Little Revenge. We will be sacrificing firepower and effectiveness for more security in command. Captain Chain you will prepare Hope Company and I want all Navy arms-men prepared for boarding actions. Matter of fact prepare all ships for hostile boarding actions, basic defenses should do, but keep the extra supplies ready. Is the 10th Halla Sector Volunteers prepared for rapid deployment?”

  “Yes, sir.” The Clone Captain replies, his face far more determined than I feel.

  “They are still on the Malice II, Servile III and Glutton V?” I ask for clarification.

  “Yes, sir. Their fourth battalion is currently stationed within the Dac’s Revenge.” He supplies.

  “Alright the first and second battalions will rapid deploy to Archipelago City near the capitol. They are to secure it, is their Major embedded within their first?”

  “As per regulations, sir.” Chain responds.

  “I ask he seize the city rapidly and secure it as a beach-head and defensive position for any fallback required by our allies. Their third battalion will be held in reserve as boarding troops or reinforcements to the surface, their fourth battalion will serve as boarding troops to assist with any actions required from the Dac’s Revenge.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll prepare the transmissions.”

  “Yes, it is unlikely we’ll have surprise on our side, do it during our next adjustment.” I ask.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We will keep the Guard Hound in reserve with us, their larger hangar space will prove vital for emergency repairs, move some spare techs over to them during our next adjustment.-”

  “Yes, sir.” My engineering Adjutant says.

  “- We will have the corvettes and Mon Cala frigates group together into a rapid response unit. The Dac’s Revenge and our battle line Peltas will form a secondary response unit for boarding actions. The Baros’ Fist and our ship will form our temporary first battle line until we can merge my command structure with our allied units. The Glutton V and Guard Hound will be our reserve group for now. We will have to wait and see how this battle begins.” I finish.

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  “I’ll transmit your orders once we’re out of hyperspace, sir”

  “Exiting in ten, nine, eight,-”

  “This is it.” I mutter.

  “-six, five,-”

  “I suppose it is.” Mi-Kus replies.

  “-three, two, one.”

  Realspace embraces us, but the embrace is not a warm and comforting one. Two fleets are pounding away at one another within the ship- and dockyards above the blue pearl which is Dac. Arcs of light blue ion fire, red turbolaser fire and swarms of fighters exchanging fire with one another. It’s terrifying.

  A deep breath, then action: “Deploy the battalions to the surface, move the formation towards the fighting. First rapid response unit to the front, begin harassing droid squadrons and hostile ships, patch me into the loyalist comms and get me on all channels we can. Deploy Little Squadron to escort the transports down, but bring them back up asap.”

  A chorus of “Yes sir” are my answer and the ships begin to move. The two transports racing towards the planet’s surface followed by a squadron of fighters. Bastard Squadron emerges from the hangar as well and form up bellow the Little Revenge as we race forwards.

  “I’ve got as many as I can, but we’ve lost a lot of the communications satellites.” Sergeant Slas says.

  “That’ll do.” I say and receive a nod when I start being put through, “Attention people of Dac, I am Commodore Thraken Dericote. I am taking command of the defense of this world. I have come to assist you in your fight against the Separatist Alliance and their invasion. Join me in the defense of your homeworld, join me in the defense of Mon Cala, the defense of Dac. We will repel these invaders and traitors. I would rather die than give up this world. If I am to fail I will make my grave here at the linchpin of the North Eastern Slice. May the Maker preserve us, the Force be with us and LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC!”

  I don’t fail to notice a couple credit chits exchanging hands as the channel goes off and the tactical display finally finishes the calculations for the battle. Fourteen MC75 battleships, seven MC80 Liberty battleships, four Dreadnought heavy cruisers and ten MC30c frigates are engaged on the Republic side. Eight MC75 battleships, including the flagship Mon Cala herself, a single MC80 Liberty, alongside twenty nine MC30c frigates and a handful of corvettes on the Separatist side. Though the aggressive point of the spear tip appears to be a Providence battleship, four Munificent class cruisers reeking havoc around parts of the shipyard where the tactical display noted a contested MC75, two contested Dreadnoughts and four contested MC30c frigates. Further back there’s a Lucrehulk and two Diamond Class cruisers. A closer look reveals another Providence on the surface near a Quarren stronghold. That would be a problem.

  “Deploy Bastard Squadron alongside whatever bombers we can scrounge up to make an attack run on the surface side Providence. If we can stop it from re-entering orbit it’ll be one ship we won’t have to deal with until the battle is over.” I order. A moment later Bastard Squadron peals off and races towards the surface alongside maybe two dozen other Y-Wings, cheaper A4s I note, stationed in orbit for the planet’s defense.

  “Move the rest of us and the boarding force towards the contested ships. Captain Chain is to prepare a boarding action on that MC75. Deploy Door Platoon to the more contested Dreadnought.” I order.

  “Sir, the Third Merchant Fleet Star Cruiser Section is hard pressed and requesting aid.”

  “Understood, see if we can scramble some fighters their way.” I order, watching the tactical display as half a squadron of Z-95 Headhunters break off from an engagement with a squadron of Vultures to try and support the outnumbered MC75s.

  “Shields to front, fire at will.” Mi-Kus orders as we enter turbolaser range.

  Soon the blue turbolaser fire of my command joins in the cacophony of arcing flames. A hostile MC30c tries to break into my formation and gets fired at from all sides of the rapid response group, followed by a volley of fire from the Baros’ Fist. The frigates begins to list, then goes dark.

  “Bring us to a broadside with the contested MC75, move the Baros’ Fist to take command of the four loyalist Dreadnoughts we have here, have them close up and try to form a block between us and the Separatist advance to our north-north-west. Chain begin boarding operations.”

  Our ship shudders as a heavy turbolaser impacts the shields. The Separatist advance is being stalled by two Golan I platforms and a duet of MC75 Star Cruisers and we come dangerously close to the contested MC75. The LAATs and LAAT/cs emerge from the Hangar bays of the Little Revenge and Dac’s Revenge and race towards their targets.

  “Sir, the Rendili Commander demands authority in the group with the Baros’ Fist.” Mi-Kus says.

  “Granted, but my orders stand. They are to slow the Sep advance so we can finish securing the contested ships here.” I say.

  “Sir, transmission from the Fourth Merchant Star Cruiser Section, they’re reporting heavy damage and won’t be able to hold off the enemy advance at the dockyards.”

  “Pull them back, we can recapture those docks later, we need to consolidate now.” I say.

  The groups of ships were too scattered, some areas were well secured by the battleships of the Merchant Fleet, while others were isolated by themselves. One was almost entirely surrounded by three hostile MC75s and was trying to make a break for our lines, being harried by enemy fire and Hyena bombers as they try to maneuver. An explosion rocks the space nearby and I watch as one of the Golan I platforms explodes in a cacophony of flames.

  “Dammit. Move the remnants of the third Merchant Battleship Section to the Golan II closest to our position. Get any spare fighters cobbled together into a wing with Hound squadron that I can use. Then move them to whatever we have for a back line.”

  “Sir, there is no back line.” Mi-Kus admonishes.

  “Then bring them to our location. We will be the back line. Move Guard Squadron and Fist Squadron to make a run on the enemy Providence and move Justice Squadron to escort them.”

  “Sir, the enemy fighters are to clustered there.” Sergeant Welder objects.

  “They will make the run and buy us time.” I demand, praying for the Maker to preserve me. I was rapidly finding out I hated fighting at this scale. Too much number fighting. At this scale a lost squadron hit less than the loss of one of the Little Revenge’s fighter pilots.

  The fighters and bombers rush directly ahead towards the Providence, her four Munificents, four MC75s and ten MC30cs trying to break through the Golan I platform two MC75s and the line of five Dreadnoughts, my rapid response unit harassing the Separatists at danger close proximity as the two sides exchange volleys of turbolaser fire.

  “Sir, the Tidal Wave has suffered a reactor failure, they’re requesting permission to abandon ship.”

  “Permission granted, their last order is to begin a total boarding action against the local dockyards and to hold them until further notice, they’re to sell themselves dearly.”

  “Copy that.”

  A moment later one of the isolated MC80s goes dark on the tactical display while hundreds of escape pods soar towards the closest dockyards and the already contested docks gaining additional forces in the process. I glance further around the tactical display. The attack run I had ordered on the surface Providence was almost about to commence and the transports had landed, with Little Squadron heading back up. The attack run on the Providence ahead of us seems to have destroyed the primary bridge, but the fighter and bomber group has suffered 55% casualties in the run.

  “Kark.” I mutter as I look over the tactical display, an order from Mi-Kus not registering to me. There near the Separatist rear the Lucrehulk and two Dimond class cruisers were too far away from any possible support. An old refitting yard below them, possible target in the near future.

  “Sir, the enemy Providence is pulling back, the Munificents are covering the retreat.” Sergeant Welder reports.

  “Good. Slas, this will be our rear and reserve line, inform the fleet to attempt a rally here, unless they currently hold a superiority of firepower locally.”

  “Sir we’ve lost two frigates trying to cut off the retreat.”

  “What kind of idiot ordered that? Never mind, the enemy has fighter superiority and frigate superiority. We have more capital ships, but they’re under armed for their size. They have good shielding, but we can’t cycle our ships without creating massive openings. Begin spreading out our frontal line for possible flanking maneuvers on the enemy. Their line is too short for the scale of battle here, we might be able to use that.”

  “Sir, incoming vessel.” Welder says, trying to keep calm

  “What? Belay the last order. Give me their exit point.” Shit this could be terrible.

  “Exiting from the south, sir.” Comes the Sargent’s answer.

  “Whatever fighter reserves we have are to move on interception course. What is the sitrep on the contested ships?” I bark.

  “Chain reports control over roughly 84% of the Stormwind, they’re willing to begin operations, sir. Lieutenant Bugs reports 98% control. They’re trying to talk down the last hostile strong point. The other Dreadnought reports about 63% control, the frigates are still up to chance, sir.”

  “Move Door Platoon over to the other Dreadnought asap and send a boarding party of arms-men to each of the frigates. Move the Dreadnought into the line and keep the Stormwind in reserve.”

  “Sir, unknown ship is a Venator, the Resolute!”

  “Thank the Maker, contact Admiral Yularen.” I order.

  The tactical display shrinks slightly, but instead of the wizened Coruscanti native, there is a Clone Captain with a questionably modified helmet between his waist and arm, a child Togruta and General Fisto.

  I can’t help it, I say the first thing that comes to mind: “Fuckin’ Hells.”