“Alright people, you heard the mystic. I want Captain Chain and Lieutenant Bugs with me.” I turn to my Clone Captain, “You’ll send Bugs to coordinate with your counterpart if they’re not on the bridge. Mi-Kus, you’ll have the bridge. Inform the Senior Captains they are to bring the squadron together, keep the patrol going. Alright? Let’s get going.” I order before marching out of the bridge, the two Clone officers and R4 on my tail.

  The hangar is slightly overfilled, a couple of the R-41s and Y-Wings are stacked on top of one another with their repulsors on their lowest setting as to not crush the other fighters below them. This is really untenable long-term, but until I had a ship to house the other squadron long term it would have to do. The LAAT was waiting with a couple more Clones ready and waiting. The gunship leaves, with two of the Starchasers falling in for escort. The trip is relatively quick and we land in the hangar bay of the Albedo Brave.

  The doors open and I step out to see a red headed child running up to me. I blink in confusion, but after not finding any deck officer, step off anyway, followed by Chain, Bugs and R4. The LAAT stays in position with the handful of Clones from Door Platoon lazing about.

  I turn to the Clones of Hope Company and speak: “The least you can do is be useful now. Socialize with your brothers in the 13th. Maybe gauge their prior effectiveness of their unit and officers. That will be all.”

  I receive a couple nods and Yes, sirs and turn back to the rapidly approaching child. I glance at Captain Chain in mild concern, but he simply shrugs at me. R4 is whistling something mildly insulting about the apparent Jedi child rearing choices which I shush her for.

  “Hello, I’m Cal Kestis, Jedi Padawan of Master Tapal. Who’re you?” The child asks.

  “Padawan,” I say with a slight nod of the head, “I am Commodore Thraken Dericote of the 97th Outer Rim Squadron, the 347th Outer Rim Section and the Little Revenge. I was not aware that the Jedi believed in bringing their children to warzones.”

  “Well, where else would we be?” The child asks in a tone of pure innocence.

  “I presume I will need to bring this up later. Would you please bring myself and Captain Chain of Hope company to your …-” What was it the Jedi called their mentors? Was it their rank in their order? Weren’t these mentorships like adoption? Damn it, I should have reread the briefing on Jedi culture. Maker I never thought I’d have to deal with a Jedi child- “Your father?”

  Padawan Kestis is looking at me as if I was somehow the most entertaining thing he has ever seen. He giggles at me before managing to blurt out: “Master Tapal, yes I’m supposed to lead you to my master.”

  I am resisting the incredible urge to slam my palm against my own face while I speak: “Of course, how silly of me. Please lead me to your … master then.”

  “Alright, follow me.” The overly exited Padawan says before jogging off ahead of us. I sigh and adjust my usual pace to a fast walk. The hangar is filled with a mixture of yellow and white painted Clones and gray black camouflage wearing Humans and Weequay. A decent chunk of armor too. We board the elevator with the overly excited Padawan almost hopping while waiting on us.

  “So, are you really a pirate?” Padawan Kesits asks as we ascend.

  My head snaps towards the impertinent child. I turn my head back and readjust my officer’s cap before answering: “No, Padawan. I am not a pirate. I do help the Republic employ a pirate as a privateer, but I have served the Navy, Judicials or Planetary Security Force for almost half my life.”

  “So you’re not really a pirate?” The Padawan presses. I am certain Chain is cackling under his helmet.

  “No, I have conducted multiple raids on Separatist shipping, but I am no criminal. Unless you are an overly pedantic scholar in the guise of a child counting certain outdated conventions on military conduct and the definitions of war-crimes.” I answer.

  “Then why do the newsreals always call you a hussar?”

  Hussar? Wasn’t that an old Earth cavalry formation? It is definitely Duro for a scout, usually synonymous with explorer or homesteader: “I am afraid I do not know what the propaganda departments are churning out, young Jedi. Though I must confess my confusion for the term you use, I don’t think the Duro would appreciate using a word of theirs, which is usually a compliment, as a synonym for pirate.”

  “I’m pretty sure it was used as raider or plunderer a couple thousand years ago? I looked it up because I thought your story was interesting.” Cal says, his tone betraying his lack of confidence.

  “Then I will need to do my research on what Director Isard is calling me nowadays. I suppose being called a scout is better than being called a pirate.” Then I realize fully what the child has said, “Why in the name of the Maker on high do you think my career has been interesting?”

  “Well, I mean you haven’t lost a ship under your command.-”

  “Because I know when to pull them back. It was a close thing for the Little Revenge more than once, never mind the Prince’s Duty.” I interrupt.

  “You also helped rescue Master Koth.”

  “I believe that was primarily done by Generals Skywalker and Gallia.” I correct.

  That stumps the Jedi for a moment, but he presses on despite it: “Well you raided all the way from Dac to the Perlimian Trade Route! You disrupted Separatist communication in five sectors for a week!”

  The doors are open as I continue to deflect: “I was merely doing my duty. Anything else would be an insult to my family, homeworld and the Navy.”

  “Quite right, Commodore Dericote.” The Jedi Master says. He is even taller than on the Hologram. His gray black beard framing his face and his eyes still piercing.

  I snap a salute after stepping out of the elevator: “Sir.”

  “Come along Cal, Commodore. We have a war to plan.” The Jedi says as he leads us towards the holotable.

  When we reach the table I nudge R4. She connects to the table and takes a moment until she is depicting the world below. I clear my throat to speak while looking down at my rough notes: “The world of Targonn has been under blockade for about a month. We have conducted a few minor bombardments of the capitol complex. The local shields have held it well, though they failed around the former servants’ quarters. There were a couple stray shots that ended up causing damage to the local industries. We have also conducted preparations for multiple possible landing sites. R4 please mark them out.”

  A second later the blue hologram has multiple red dots to depict our bombardments. There were seven in total, with different distances to the capitol and other cities. The biggest one was where the hills had been.

  “Begin placing the positions of possible enemy positions, bunker complexes and the like. Don’t forget the anti-orbital batteries that’ve been taking pot shots at us.” I ask of R4.

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  A series of green dots, squares and triangles are added to the world. I nod at that before moving down my notes: “The original plan was to assist General Koth in a surgical strike on the capital, eliminate the Dictator-Forever Craw, preferably by execution for crimes against peace or raiding or whatever the Republic wants to charge him with posthumously. After creating a basic occupation of the capital we would find a willing former Lieutenant to install as interim Governor of the world until the war with the Separatists is over. We would of course assist our new Governor in finishing off any rivals to power.”

  “Do you already have the new Governor of choice?” The Jedi Master asks.

  “We brought some of the Targonnian fleet officers along. We would hopefully convince an army commander, but if that isn’t possible we would be installing Captain Squeak. He is onboard the Malice II alongside a few of the officers of the other captured Targonnian ships.” I answer.

  “We could attempt to install him now.” The Jedi Master says.

  “I would prefer not antagonizing any Targonnian army officers until we know how they’ll react. At the moment we are dealing with the Dictator-Forever. We can claim an intervention after one of his Lieutenants demands assistance in the inevitable civil war.” I offer.

  “Very well. I think we will land at the former hills and begin our assault of the Capitol. Will we have fighter support?” Master Tapal asks.

  “We can assist with orbital fire up to the administrative complex, though I would advise against using it in a civilian area. The anti-orbital batteries will force us to limit fighter support.” I answer.

  “Very well. Cal, you will take responsibility for commanding our air support under Commodore Dericote. I will lead the ground assault personally.”

  “But I want to help you.” The child says, pouting.

  “Child, listen to your mentor. Maker knows a warzone is no place for a one your age.” I say.

  “I’m eleven!” The Padawan exclaims.

  “Far from your age of majority.” I counter.

  “I’ve fought before!”

  “Then I should re-evaluate my opinions on your rearing.” I say, turning my stern gaze at my superior. I realize that I’d already clenched my fist in preparation to punch the fool.

  “Sir, maybe you shouldn’t insult our superior officers.” Chain mumbles towards me.

  “Of course, apologies General. My world highly values our children and families. I do not believe you would find a singular parent among my homeworld who would place their child at this kind of a risk unless there was no other option.” I apologize as I un-clench my fist.

  “Apology accepted, Commodore. I am aware that the Jedi ways can be confusing for outsiders.” General Tapal replies.

  “I shall inform my officers of my temporary assignment. Will you require anything from my command, sir?” I ask.

  “Would any Clones or arms-men be willing to join in the assault planetside?”

  I turn towards Chain. He steps forwards and speaks: “Sir, Hope Company is at your disposal.”

  I was standing on the primary bridge of the Albedo Brave. It wasn’t quite as nice as the bridge of the Little Revenge, it lacked a certain proximity. The stations were all too far apart for my liking and the fact that all the stations were exclusively manned by clones also unnerved me slightly. Was it like that on all Jedi Venators? The Padawan was trying to sneak up on me. He was doing a poor job of it, primarily because R4 was not so quietly egging him on.

  “Will you cease your attempt at startling me? We have a campaign to finish. Mind you, Padawan Kestis, a campaign that should have been finished weeks ago, but a campaign none the less.” I say.

  I hear the sigh of the child as he straightens up and walks up to my side: “Well why isn’t it done yet?”

  “Because High Command has judged my theater of operations of quarterly importance. I have been repeatedly asking for reinforcements since the beginning of my command over the 347th. I have been refused, primarily due to the Dac Merchant Fleet. They however do not wish to leave their homeworld undefended, quite understandably so I might add.” I answer.

  The child is swaying slightly: “But why wouldn’t the Council send you more ships?”

  “Because it is not only the Jedi High Council who decides which sectors receive reinforcements. There's the Department of Naval Operations, the Oversector Commands, the Regional Commands and finally the various procurement offices. They have their own ranks of importance. First comes the offensive units, like the Open Circle Fleet. Second comes the defensive units of the Core, such as the Coruscant Home Guard, which our Head of Naval Operations, Fleet Admiral Honor, commands. Third are the defensive units of the Mid Rim and Core reserve fleets, specifically the ones along major trade routes or those which protect resource rich worlds. Next would be offensive Mid Rim units and units operating around major Republic strongholds, such units like those under command of the Tarkins at Eriadu or my own 97th Outer Rim Squadron. Finally there are the Outer Rim defensive and patrol units alongside the isolated fleets such as those at Bonadan and Dantooine. Do you understand young Padawan?” I explain.

  “Why do the reserve fleets have a higher priority than the isolated ones? Shouldn’t they get reinforcements?” He asks.

  “Two fold. One politics, the Core wishes for more protection and the Core will have her extra protection. Many of the major shipyards are in the core, shipyards such as Rendili, Corellia, Duro and to my regret, Kuat. They hold much influence in times of war. Two there’s logistics. The core is undeniably at the center of the galaxy. It is faster to get a ship from Corellia to Malastare than from Malastare to Gyndine. Does that sate your curiosity young Padawan?”

  “Kinda, would you answer any questions I had about your raids?”

  “One. I doubt we will have enough time for more. Your Master will attempt a landing soon.”

  “Why were you at Drongar when you were being boarded? The Holos never say.”

  “I was officially handing over the letter of marque to Hondo Ohnaka to begin his tenure as a Republic privateer.”

  “Why’d you do it in person?”

  “That is more than one question Padawan Kestis.”

  “Sorry.” He says demurely. I turn to see a pouting face. Damn it.

  “I had not learned the necessity of delegation and believed, I still hope rightfully, that I needed to cater to the pirate’s ego.” I answer with a small sigh, “We are always learning, either from our mistakes, or the mistakes of others. I hope you will learn from my mistakes like I have learned from the mistakes of my peers, superiors and predecessors.”

  The child simply hums while thinking it over. A Sergeant approaches us and snaps a quick salute: “Sirs, General Tapal is about to begin his landing.”

  “Alright then.” I say as I march back to the holotable. A nod to R4 and she puts on the holodisplay for the landing zone and the surrounding area. The first LAAT is landing while Little squadron, who had apparently won a game of sabbac with General Tapal’s squadrons for the right of the vanguard soaring further towards the capitol and taking the majority of the poor flak fire. Another LAAT lands, then another until the entire gunship fleet has successfully begun unloading their troops into the craters left behind by the bombardment.

  “Look here, this is the riskiest part about a proper ground invasion.” I advise the young Jedi.

  “Wouldn’t it be the transit? That always seemed the scariest.” The Jedi asks back.

  I feel my right fist clench again at the thought of the Jedi risking a child under their care as I answer: “You would think so, but look at the terrain. The ground force has cover from direct artillery and enemy fire, which is invaluable during the unloading of war-material, personnel and establishing a Forward operations base. However they now need to climb out of the craters. That is partly why creating them at the edge of hills or small mountains is best. They are usually harder for an enemy to approach and more easily defensible. The AT-TE should make quick work of the ridges and get into the plains surrounding the capital.”

  “But there’s no cover on the plains.” Cal says.

  “Correct. If it were not a Jedi leading I would demand the General use trenches to advance or find an alternate route. However you Jedi have a knack for surviving frontal assaults across flat terrain with most of your men.”

  “Then shouldn’t I be down there too? To help Master Tapal and the men?”

  “No, because we have the pleasure of teaching any attempted counter the power of orbital and aerial supremacy.”

  “Sir, Little Squadron is pulling back. They report two infantry columns and a column of Separatist style armor approaching the craters. No casualties. The columns look to be about a Regiments worth each.” A Clone Lieutenant reports.

  “Commence orbital bombardment on the armored column, make it two salvos from us and my Little Revenge. Deploy a bomber squadron to intercept the infantry.” I order.

  “Will half a squadron be enough for an infantry column?” Cal asks.

  “It will be enough to scatter them.” I answer.

  The turbolasers of the Venator and Little Revenge fire off one after the other. Each blue streak of fire soaring towards the planet’s surface. I turn Cal back towards the Holotable, the Republic column only now emerging from their craters while the green columns march towards them. A moment later simplified explosions and impacts show the armored column disappear and replace their former location with over a dozen new craters.

  A few minutes later, just as the infantry columns are about to engage the Republic advance the bombers appear on the tactical display. The flyby is quick and efficiently done. I would need to buy the pilots a round of ales. The columns’ members are either dead, wounded or in retreat, a clear showing of their poor discipline.

  Padawan Kestis is tugging at my sleeve and look down towards him. He shudders a moment his breathing speeding up slightly before he calms and speaks up after realizing he has my attention: “If this is what orbital fire and air support can do what’s the point of sending in ground forces?”

  “A few things. You need ground forces to hold territory. In comparison to a fleet, a roving horde of army soldiers are typically useless. So garrison duty and planetary assaults are almost exclusively what they are useful for. There are also worlds where anti-air fire is more effective and bombers, which become slower and more vulnerable in low atmosphere, are picked off one by one. There are also worlds with powerful planetary shields. Those can usually survive a planetary bombardment. Our dear Dictator-Forever only has a theater shield for his personal complex in the capitol. It is why we refrain from bombarding his cities.”

  “So we deactivate the shields and then bombard them from orbit?” The Padawan asks.

  “If you do not care for possible civilian casualties, possible friendly prisoners of war, collateral damage or the undeniable damage a bombardment does, then yes.” I answer while watching the column advance.

  I felt more on edge than usual. I wanted to be down there and help dam it. I slowly exhale while starring at the holotable. Couldn’t assault another hostile position unless they made a move. It wouldn’t do to kill off to many useful military officers and potential pawns.

  I hear a stifled yawn followed by another tug on my sleeve and I turn to look at my small counterpart. He nudges me slightly and I sigh before speaking: “Any other questions, young Jedi?”

  “I … I know it isn’t really proper, but … Master always says not to worry about him when we’re not together. There is no emotion, there is peace. It’s part of the code, but … well.”

  I sigh again interrupting the worried child: “Emotions are part of what defines us, I think. I know of the Jedi, I have met some Jedi, but I have never understood the Jedi, especially their philosophies. But I can understand the difficulties of doctrine. Nine Hells below I have many issues with Navy doctrine and half as many with Navy tradition. To command is to understand the importance of your decisions alongside the trust in your men and superiors. Trust in your mentor. He trusts in you, just like I trust in my men to conduct the mission to the best of their abilities.”

  “So I should trust in my Master? That’s it? Sounds kinda simple.” The child complains.

  “Sometimes the most simple wisdom is best. And regrettably, simple does not mean easy.” I retort, turning back to the tactical display. The Republic column was making good time. The damn kid reminded me of some of some of my younger cousins and the younger kids I helped from being bullied forever ago. Slightly too small and a tad too innocent. I sigh again and take a closer look at the tactical display. I hated being able to do nothing. I had half a mind to simply order a bombardment of a possible artillery emplacement. I held off though, best not antagonize the locals any more than necessary.