It took about an hour and a half until the Republic column had made it to the outskirts of the capitol complex. The entire damn city was almost purely slums. Cal seemed mildly disturbed by it while I was holding back about three dozen curse words from four languages about the Dictator-Forever and the idiots at High Command who had wanted me to negotiate with the chucklefuck.

  The holotable shifts to depict the armor of Captain Chain. His usually pristine helmet dirty, his usually black cheek plates covered in brown dirt and his aegean aurebesh HOPE above his visor barely legible. His aegean parallel chains looked as if a couple of the links had been broken by the grime.

  “Captain, report.” I order, trying to put some semblance of confidence in my words.

  “We’ve begun fighting in the slums. A large chunk of the populace have either surrendered or fled. We’re only facing sporadic resistance. A couple thousand of the locals appear to be in open revolt as well. Rioting may be a better word for it. General Tapal has requested we send down Squeak to organize his people.” The Clone replies.

  “Is it possible to send his shuttle into the slums directly?” I ask.

  “Possible, but the flak has been keeping the LAATs further away than the General would like.”

  “We’ll land him in one of the closer craters. Send a light armor escort for him. I’d rather have a proxy at all than hoping we’ll find one in the rubble. Time to improvise a planetary change in governance.” I order.

  “Yes, sir.” The Captain replies before fizzling out.

  “Lieutenant, send a LAAT to the Malice II to pick up Captain Squeak and any Lieutenants he might find loyal to himself. They are to descend imminently. Train the turbolasers a mile ahead of our advance.” I order and watch the Clones jump to follow the command.

  “Why are you aiming at a target without value? Without orders?” Kestis asks.

  “It is in anticipation, young Jedi. Similarly to the reserve fleets if something is in a central location it can react more quickly. There is not current target, but I doubt there will be a target I’d be willing to fire at closer than a mile away from the front-lines. Unless of course, there was no alternative.” I answer the inquiry.

  “Why are you so serious? Master Tapal is too, but even he takes a break every now and then when we’re at the Temple.” The Padawan asks.

  “How do you know I don’t do something similar?”

  “You just feel so serious.” He presses, confusion marring his face.

  My eyes remain glued to the holotable as I slowly answer the boy: “It is instilled in all of the Navy’s officers. We are to be professional, courteous and tactically sound. I have multiple friends under my command and in parallel commands. I need to separate myself as an individual from myself as an officer of the Republic Navy. Otherwise I would be unwilling to use the ships at my disposal at their most effective. It is a mixture of responsibility and discipline which makes us us in the Navy. However when we have time off we can let loose and relax. Maker knows I plan on opening a nice bot- … on taking a nap after this is over.”

  “Is that why Captain Ozzel doesn’t like us?”

  “Your ship’s Captain?” I ask.

  “He’s the commanding officer of the 121st Mid Rim Section. The Albedo Brave is the temporary command ship. He likes staying on his Acclamator.”

  “His first name?” I ask.

  “Eogar. Why?”

  “That should be the third branch, don't remember the Ozzels doing much shared naming. I’m surprised he hasn’t been promoted yet. Senior Captain is a tad low for an Ozzel, especially from a branch so old.” I muse.

  “What are you talking about?” Kestis asks stifling another yawn.

  “There are powerful and old families within the navy. The Dodonnas, Tenants, Ozzels … the Daos. They have served in the Navy and later the Judicials for generation upon generation. They were not happy about the Ruusan Reformation and I know many of them were looking forward to finally fighting in a true war. With the Jedi seizing overall control of the war effort many of the naval officers are displeased.” I answer.

  “But … it’s not like we wanted to fight the war. I’ve heard there was more than one duel about joining the war effort after Geonosis.”

  I finally take my eyes off of the holotable to look at the face of a concerned child. I turn back and tap my holster as I try to assuage his concerns: “Sometimes we have no choice but to follow orders. It is how we follow them that makes all the difference.”

  Chain ducks behind his shield. His brothers were holding up well. It was a bit of an adjustment and the shields had been a pain in the back to lug around, but now they were showing their uses. The charges were set on one of the still standing factories.

  “BLOW!” He barks and the charge detonates.

  He is the first into the building and he finds no one within the first room.

  “Clear.” He says before prepping the next door. He receives a tap on his back and he kicks the flimsy door open. Within the office, he thinks, there are a handful of locals all cowered in the corner, the older ones protecting the younger ones.

  “Civies.” He says into his comms, “Five of them. Bring an extract.”

  He backs out of the office slowly to rendezvous with the General. He returns to his normal fast walk as he begins moving along the primary avenue. Wildhog comes up on Chain’s right, lugging his Z-6 with him, his black painted tusks on his cheek panels are as scuffed up as the blue white blue explosion at the front of his forehead.

  “How’s it looking?” Chain asks.

  “Not too bad, sir. Resistance is poor at best. I hear Ore company of 13th have almost seized the power stations. We should have the capital in about an hour.” His Lieutenant replies.

  “Alright, let’s not keep our Commodore waiting. He must be quite bored by now. INTO THE BREACH, HOPE!” He bellows out as 4th Platoon echoes she shout behind him.

  They rejoin the primary advance along the arterial road. Fire left, target dropped. Brace shield, feel the impacts. Move forwards. Sidestep to cover Wildhog, fire back. Move forward. Fire right. Adjust shield grip. A blasterbolt almost hits him in the head and he ducks reflexively. Look up suppress the enemy position. Advance. Fire. Advance.

  General Tapal is shouting now: “BREACHERS!”

  “Wildhog, you know what to do.” Chain says.

  He can barely hear his brothers manic giggling as the Clone rushes forwards with his Z-6 and enough explosives in his backpack to blow up an entire AT-TE. He and Sargent Clover rush behind the overeager Lieutenant. They hold their shields up to cover any idiot who would fire at them from an uncleared building.

  “Almost done Wildhog? Don’t use em all up at once now.” Clover quips.

  “Shut it Clover, this Is ART!” Wildhog replies.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Shut it both of you. You can snipe at each other after the mission is done and we’re back safely on the Little Revenge!” Chain interrupts.

  “Alright, sir. I’m done.” Wildhog says while passing the Captain the detonator.

  “RUN!” Chain shouts and the three Clones leg it back to their lines. The Clones with boarding shields plant them on the ground and the rest cover behind them. Chain passes the detonator back to Wildhog and gives the General the hand-signal. The General nods and Wildhog gets a manic grin.

  “Boom.” Wildhog says quietly as he presses the detonator. Half a second later the door explodes and leaves a pile of rubble in its wake.

  “Forwards!” Master Tapal orders.

  “INTO THE BREACH!” The members of Hope Company echo, it’s becoming routine whenever an AT-TE/b breaks open the hull of the ship they’ve decided to make theirs and now they shout it as they charge into the entrance hall of the administrative complex.

  Chain is first into the breach. He would not allow himself to be second, not when he is the shield for his brothers. He blasts a guard. Fires back at an e-web, while taking the returning fire onto his shield. The General is like a tidal wave crashing down upon the enemy.

  Advance, fire, brace, advance, fire. They clear the complex building by building, room by room. Finally they reach the throne room. The General simply force pushes the doors open and they slam into the walls. An obese Targonnian is sitting on the throne. A snarl on his face and a blaster pistol in his hand.

  “BASTARDS! TRAITORS AND CURS! I SHALL HAVE ALL YOUR HEADS MOUNTED ON MY WALLS!” The Targonnian screams. The fool fires his blaster pistol at the General, but it is deflected back at the Dictator-Forever and the blasterbolt impales the ruler of Targonn. Craw slumps over his throne and collapses.

  “A pity we couldn’t take him alive.” Chain hears Clover quip.

  “Eh, we probably would’ve just accidentally airlocked him for all the stress he’s caused us and the Commodore.” Wildhog replies.

  “Quiet you two.” Chain admonishes.

  General Tapal speaks up after extinguishing his lightsaber: “Captain, hail Commodore Dericote and Commander Kestis, I would like to speak to them.”

  “Yes, sir. Clover, is there a reason you like to lug about the damn transmitter or why is it still on your back?” Chain admonishes.

  “Sorry, sir.” Clover says as he slings his backback around. He places his shield to the side as he hooks the transmitter up to its battery and punches in the codes. A moment later The Hologram reveals a mildly panicking Dericote being leaned on by a sleeping Padawan Kestis. Chain can hear Wildhog stifle a laugh.

  “General.” The Commodore says quietly. “I assure you your Padawan only fell asleep recently. I would have sent him to his quarters, but … It appears he hasn’t slept more than an hour in the last two rotations, excitement I think … he insisted he be awoken if you commed, but I am afraid I don’t have the heart.”

  "It is alright, Commodore. We have secured the Capitol. Craw is dead You are to organize the temporary housing and medical outposts imminently. We are waiting for the fallout to begin.” The General says, a smirk on his face.

  “Of course, sir I will have the Senior Captains begin the landings immediately.” Dericote replies.

  “You may of course also bring my Padawan to his rooms. He will be receiving a lecture on proper rest and improper use of the Force for trivial matters.” The General says.

  “Yes, sir. I will have him moved immediately.” The Commodore answers.

  “That will be all for now. Dismissed.” The General says and the holotransmission goes out.

  Chain can easily hear Clover and Wildhog laughing under their helmets. He sighs and hopes one of them was recording.

  The situation on Targonn had devolved far more quickly than we had anticipated. The former Dictator-Forever’s lieutenants started cannibalizing one another before their leader’s corpse had hit the ground. The Glutton V and Servile III meanwhile had landed in the capitol and been turned into temporary hospitals after unloading their supplies.

  Battles were raging across the world between over a dozen different groups. The Dictator’s Loyal Clique had secured multiple cities and towns around the equator and had begun a march towards the capital. The Forever True had secured a large portion of the southern hemisphere thanks to a trio of droid tank battalions and an aggressive leadership and had declared their primary leader the True General and ruler of Targonn. Meanwhile our puppet Squeak had begun entrenching the capital with our help and that of a couple seemingly loyal lieutenants. They have even expanded to about half of the northern hemisphere. But in a single word, the world was a mess.

  Worst of all the 13th Battalion was needed elsewhere though the 1st Halla Sector Volunteer Regiment had some time before redeployment, as did my own 97th Outer Rim Squadron. We had failed to stabilize the situation quickly enough after the death of the Dictator-Forever. I had requested we begin strategic bombardments of enemy columns alongside night time raids and bombing runs of enemy industry and infrastructure. Such a request was still being debated by General Tapal. The only upside was the decent civilian support for Squeak as he had abolished the 99% tax on the Targonnian people instituted by Craw.

  There were a couple cliques with similar ideas, but they should be able to become aligned with Squeak after some minor concessions, persuasion and threats. So it was looking to be more of a nine way civil war instead of a thirty two way civil war. Maker preserve me this is worse than the Chinese Warlord Era of old Earth.

  I approach the bridge holotable with Padawan Kesits, who was still quite embarrassed about falling asleep next to me. I was nursing my third cup of caf for the day and running on about six hours of sleep. I was still a tad groggy and I could tell R4 was about to do something mischievous if I didn’t lighten up slightly. This was why I hated campaigns, not enough sleep and an annoying droid.

  “Alright, let’s get this over with.” I mutter as a Sergeant finishes punching in the codes.

  A moment later the holographic depiction of General Tapal and Captain Chain appeared alongside a Weequay Major and Governor Squeak. I snap a salute to the General and Governor and receive two salutes from Chain and the Major in return.

  “Commodore, after certain consideration and advice from the other ground force officers I have decided to permit the use of tactical bombardments and bombing runs on hostile columns and emplacements. I will however not permit the use of such measures on the civilian population or industries.” The General speaks.

  “As you wish, sir. How do you intend to ensure the orbital garrison exists within the week? I have some strategic concerns at Dac I wish to ensure do not develop into problems. I would enjoy having the majority of my forces with me for this.” I answer.

  “We will begin negotiations with my former comrades. Hopefully we can curtail a couple of them from open revolt in return for positions and titles. With their support we should be able to smash the Dictator’s Loyal Clique, Forever True as well as the 2nd Armored Division and mop up any of the other Cliques after their destruction.” Governor Squeak says.

  “Do you require orbital support, Governor?” I ask.

  “For the fighting with the Dictator’s Loyal Clique and Forever True it would be useful. However the 2nd Armored Division have seized a major city and industrial hub. It would risk too many civilians, never mind the infrastructure.” The Governor answers.

  “I can begin preparing the surrounding area for battle.” I offer.

  “Would it not be possible to keep a couple ships here to ensure my soldiers have constant orbital and air support?” Squeak asks.

  “I am afraid not. It could be possible to redirect a single ship from Toong’l. However we were already strapped for ships before the Dictator-Forever invaded Toong’l. I need as much of my squadron to keep the logistics up while disrupting Separatist shipping around Dac.” I pause for a moment. “I may be able to leave the Teardrop in orbit, but a Consular does not have the weapons necessary to support you well.”

  General Tapal speaks up: “ I intend to detach two squadrons of Z-95s and a squadron of Y-Wings to assist you alongside a third of my armored assets. I am afraid I cannot offer more .”

  The Major starts speaking as well: “You’ll have us. We may not have the same experience or self proclaimed quality of the clones, but we’ll be here to help ya train your loyalists and defend the Capital.”

  “And I am of course very grateful for this. I fear it will not be enough and my world will remain in civil war until long after the Clone Wars are over.” Squeak confesses.

  I speak up: “I will request the Republic bolster the garrisons and see about adjusting the mission parameters of Senior Captain Jim's section. We might be able to divert the Pride of Toong’l to system to support you with their turbolasers and additional fighter squadron through that.”

  “You cannot order this?” Squeak asks.

  “I am afraid, that as Commodore, I can only take command of an additional section when requested by High Command or the unit commander, even then it is usually temporary. And despite being the inter-rim Adjutant Administrator of the North East Slice Command, I have a very limited set of powers in comparison to the actual power of the position. I mainly fill the roll of tactical adviser to local forces and the person who is doing a region’s worth of paperwork without any pay raise. Best not get me started on the paperwork. Maker knows how the Jedi manage to do it all when they’re almost constantly reassigned to new sections, squadrons, battlegroups and the karking Regional Commands.” I inform.

  “Commodore, please refrain from swearing in front of my Padawan.” General Tapal says.

  I school my features while apologizing: “Of course, sir, sorry sir.”

  “We are sorry that we are unable to support your regime more, Governor.” The General says.

  “What about the surrendered ships?” The Major asks

  I consider it a moment before answering: “Military law is a tad conflicting on it. We could, return them to their rightful owners. Though they would need to be re-crewed by your loyalists, whose effectiveness I was entirely underwhelmed by as well as be given new paintjobs and retrofits. Some of the Separatist weapons use different munitions and I doubt they would be willing to sell them to us.”

  “How long would the retrofit take?” Governor Squeak asks.

  “Well we already removed the weapons for safety purposes, I suppose the basic paintjob wouldn’t take longer than a week of low intensity work, doing the weapons at the same time, re-drilling the crews for actual effectiveness and to try and bring them up to Navy standards. I’d say about a month until something's usable, preferably a year or two for genuine competence in the ranks and another year for the same in the officer corps.” I answer.

  The voice of Padawan Kestis makes its first appearance during the meeting: “But do we need them to be at Navy standard?”

  I frown at what he says while thinking it over: “I suppose we could train them all at once and simply crew a singular Munificent or Recusant with the most skilled of them, a month then. It displeases me, but little is pleasing about being left out in the sands by the Core. Though I will say the ships we will be handing over do not have hangar bays. You will need to fortify airfields for the fighters and bombers on loan.”

  “Agreed.” The Governor said, “If possible I would request a battalion of the 1st Halla Sector Volunteer Regiment to take over security for their brothers and sisters in the sky.”

  “Major, do you think it likely that another regiment could be formed from your sector?” I ask.

  “Well there’s already the 2nd through 9th, but they’re on garrison duty back home. Halla is a front-line sector after all. I think the 10th should be deployed in a month and a half, but they’re looking to be deployed to Munto Codru after picking up extra supplies at Dac.”

  “Well at least I can finally stop sending the requests to High Command ‘bout our lack of Republic ground forces there. Ah Maker on high, I’ll need to update my supply requests in preparation.” I mutter to myself, I think I hear a stifled giggle from the Padawan beside me.

  “This is all well and good, but how does this pertain to my world’s civil war?” The Governor presses.

  “In the way that it allows me to sacrifice the Teardrop alongside the Prince’s Duty to assist in any orbital support for the time being. It is not an optimal situation, especially with the situation I have hinted at around Dac, but their Merchant Fleet should be able to conduct operations in a passable manner for the moment, even if they are annoyingly passive about it.” I answer.

  “Then a heavy cruiser in the Pride of Toong’l, a corvette in the form of the Teardrop and a frigate in the form of the Prince’s Duty. Will that be sufficient until one of your cruisers are finished?” General Tapal asks the Governor.

  “I suppose it will have to do. Though I fear I will need to begin conscripting the populace and run the coffers dry in an attempt to pay them fairly as you and my morals demand.” The Governor replies.

  “You will simply need to use the forces available to their fullest extent while they’re here and rely on our orbital support.” I say.

  “I suppose that is true.” The Governor sighs.