Wessex looked concerned: “I will not disapprove, but this is risky. We’ll be splitting our forces in three and leave our center quite vulnerable.”

  “I am aware of that, Rear Admiral, but the center only needs to look threatening. The enemy will be unable to capitalize on it with the north and south encircling them.” I counter.

  “Like I said, I do not disapprove, I am merely informing you of the risks.” Wessex repeats himself.

  “Which is exactly why I want you to lead the southern thrust. I trust Senior Captain Praut and Unit Arkania will be enough of a force to keep the enemy center in place and I wish for an experienced senior flag officer to take up the southern thrust.” I say.

  “Sir, we have the south very much under control. There’s no need to put the center at risk, give us two Venators and an MC80 and we can push the enemy.” Commodore Hugh counter offers.

  “I have already decided. The majority of Unit Reveland will head south and take over the southern thrust. Though I would recommend you take the vanguard, Commodore Hugh.” I placate.

  My subordinate huffs in indignation before she agrees with a slow nod. Yes this would certainly d-

  “Sir, we’re detecting Cronau radiation from the galactic west egress point!” A sensors officer interrupts.

  “Oh kark.” I mutter before snapping into action, “No time for delays, we pull the trigger on the plan now! Wessex, you know what to do. Hugh, get started on the push, Wessex should be able to catch up. Everyone else, speartip formation and follow my lead!”

  The holograms cut out as the Republic ships begin adjusting their positions. The Seps won’t know what’s happening until it’s too late. If they pressure the center they’ll just fall deeper into my trap. My ships start moving, firing long range salvos of turbolaser fire and missiles as they pressure the enemy. They won’t be able to head down, or else be trapped in Mintooine’s orbit and they can’t head up or else face the full firepower of the Venators and swarms of fighters targeting their engines. It should be a perfect, textbook encirclement, thanks to the positioning of Mintooine’s Moon and the difficulty a retreat towards Poseidenna would be.

  “Sir, we’ve got a Providence battleship, six Munificents, four Captors and a dozen Gozantis on scope. They just finished exiting hyperspace. We’re running analysis now.”

  “Weren’t those ships here at the start of the battle?” I mutter in confusion. I had wondered why they had been pulled back, but assumed it was overconfidence on the enemy’s part. Was it another sign of interdepartmental rivalries?

  “Confirmed, they’re the ships that jumped shortly after we arrived.”

  “Something’s familiar about them.” I mutter as I look closer at the sensor display. Now that they would actually face us it seemed the right thing to do. A few markings seem strikingly familiar. Then a small chuckle emerges, “Well hot damn, that’s Commander Hatha’s ship.”

  “The enemy commander from Mon Cala?” Hursk asks.

  “The very same. See, his force’s sigil is on the frontal armor belts of his ships. Get me his profile from Republic Intelligence. I want to know if he’s been up to anything new, since Mon Cala.” I order as we rapidly start closing the distance between us and the stationary Sep ships, exchanging turbolaser fire and a smattering of missiles as we do.

  “Doesn’t look like the enemy is going to pull back.” An Adjutant mutters.

  I frown slightly at the observation. Certainly they could tell we’d be pressuring them here? They can’t outmatch us, we certainly outnumber them locally. Three of their four Lucrehulks were already corpses behind us, they had nothing which could outlast us.

  “More’s their loss. We push forwards, focus fire on the enemy heavy destroyers while we close the distance, bring us into a brawl.” I order calmly. This would be easier than catching sand in a storm.

  “I don’t care!” Hatha barked at the two Commodore’s holograms before him, “Your failures and bickering after the death of Admiral Simms has put you in this position and cost you thousands of sailors and over a dozen ships! You lost two Lucrehulk battleships to a fighter attack for profits’ sake! I have my orders from Supreme Commander General Grievous himself! You will submit to my person immediately and follow my orders without hesitation, or else suffer the consequences of a court martial!”

  “I do not care either!” Commodore Dragoos barks, “I will not submit my remaining forces to a Trade Federation crony!”

  “I will comply with your orders.” Commodore Lix concedes, taking up the counter position to Dragoos. Hatha wants to batter their skulls together to see if it would make the two rivals see sense.

  “In that case, Commodore Lix, begin pulling your forces back towards the south polar defensive position. I will be pulling the center back as well.” Hatha informs the two.

  “You will leave me to fight Dericote by myself?!” Dragoos asks, his face carrying his shock well.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I am fully willing to let you be a speedbump on Dericote’s advance. It will give me time to evacuate more people from Mintooine.” Hatha admits.

  “So we are abandoning the world, a pity.” Lix says, his tentacle clad face showing his disappointment.

  “We cannot hold out against Dericote’s forces at present. But we will bloody the bastard as much as possible before we leave so the eventual counter attack can put the Fondorian into the void.”

  “Fine, I will submit my forces to your command.” Dragoos concedes.

  “Excellent, we will begin by falling back to the edge of the south polar icecaps, begin delaying tactics to ensure our forces aren’t forced into a brawl. I will take personal command of our center, with all my forces, excluding my command ship, acting as an emergency reserve. Form up hull close fighter screens and deploy bombers intermittently within the screen and throughout our remaining defensive installations. Divert five squadrons of Vultures to our guerrilla forces. Prepare the charges while I begin moving the defensive installations over the administrative center towards Dericote’s speartip, that should get us enough time to evacuate the remaining civilian populace.” Hatha orders.

  “In that case, I shall commit to a slow withdrawal, sacrificing cruisers and frigates as I do.” Dragoos offers.

  “That would be suitable.” Hatha concedes, “You have your orders. Stars keep you and may we profit from this.”

  “May the Tides keep us.” Lix offers.

  “Damn it all, keep safe you bastards.” Dragoos spits before Hatha dismisses the holographs.

  “Sir?” His tactical droid asks.

  “Move us into the center, please.” Hatha orders, “I’ve been looking forward to my rematch.”

  “As you command.” The droid replies coldly before his dear Warprofiteer lurches forward towards his foes.

  “This is where the fun begins.” Hatha mumbles.

  The enemy was pulling their center back. That wasn’t good. I need to improvise my plan on the fly. I read through all the information I have available to me on my forces as I run through possible ideas, discarding bits and pieces which wouldn’t work.

  “Sir?” Hursk asks.

  The south was already on the move, the Earldom is clearly the command ship of the battle, but it wouldn’t be surprising if the enemy focused fire on the south to destroy my personal units. The enemy’s abandoned a handful of cruisers, three wings of fighters and two light destroyers to slow us. They’ve also retracted their fighter screen to the minimal distance one can manage without crashing against one’s fighters by moving.

  “Sir!”

  We were still approaching the enemy’s north. Hatha’s command ship was approaching the center, wise of him. It is the safest position available. Even with Hatha’s forces I should be able to force an enemy retreat. I take another look at Hatha’s forces, now taking up the duty of the reserve. The Munificents had hangars, new to my theater, but present throughout battles along the Perlimian and the Banking Clan fortresses in the galactic north. With the additional Captors and his flagship I should expect an additional five mixed wings of enemy fighters and bombers.

  “Divert a third of Unit Arkania to the south, under Captain Cin of the Mon Cala’s Joy. They’re to catch up to our southern forces promptly and put themselves under Rear Admiral Wessex’s command. The rest will join us in the north, bar our non combatant ships' escorts, which will move into the anti-orbital battery range of Mintooine’s moon. Senior Captain Eil has command of those.”

  “We’re abandoning the center?”

  “Hatha is going on the defensive. We’ll punish him for it. Expand the range of our fighter screen and begin a bombing run on the enemy rearguard. Helmsman, keep speed. Spread our shields out, send a wing of fighters in advance of our speartip formation. The Earldom has point.” I order as the Praetor acts as the very point of my blade, the remnants of the Fondorian Hammerheads around her in a protective shield, Venators behind and below her in the second line, Acclamators making the third line, with dozens of frigates, light cruisers and corvettes spread throughout the formation.

  “Fighters have engaged enemy ships.”

  “We’re entering medium to light turbolaser range, sir.”

  “Prepare proton torpedoes, the first two lines will pass through, the third line will detach to mop up the enemy ships, before following us from behind.” I order calmly.

  “The enemy fighters will be in a good position to strike at us specifically, sir.” One of the Earldom’s officers warns.

  “We will persevere.” I say, settling my face and planting myself firmly in the center of the bridge, the tactical display right in front of me. Dozens of fighter markers going dark as they duel through the enemy’s pickets. Honestly I’d be insulted at the pitiful rearguard if my anger at my original plan being seen through like a piece of transparasteel. I should be flattered, but anger suits me better.

  “About to make the pass, sir.”

  “You have my orders. Once we pass through this pitiful rearguard we’ll continue in pursuit of the enemy’s northern forces.” I order.

  “Incoming Vultures!” A nervous officer barks.

  I simply look through the tactical display to see a group of five Vultures racing towards us at the bridge. They were definitely gunning for the bridge. One is shot down by a pursuing Headhunter. They were getting close. One is sniped by a lasercannon blast and crashes into its wingmate. Too close.

  “EVACUATE THE BRIDGE!” I bark and start pushing adjutants and supporting officers ahead of me as the two, then one sole Vulture, races towards us. My eyes widen in shock as it gets past all our defenses. It’s too close for anything to shoot it down. The last of the bridge crew rushes past me, Lieutenant Hursk grabbing me by the shoulder as he yanks me away from my spot. I join him in running and punch the emergency locking mechanism on the blastdoors as we jump through the doorframe, the Vulture close behind us.

  The door is almost close when a crash sounds through the bridge and the air is sucked through the hole into space. The door locks in place as the Vulture’s ordnance explodes. My eyes are wide. That was too close. R4 is locked down right in front of me, the bridge crew are safe, but Maker.

  “We,” I hesitate a moment before continuing, “All hands to the secondary bridge. Get me a comms station and inform Captain P’marik I require his presence within the secondary bridge.”

  The bridge crew start moving towards the internal rail-system to transfer us from the aft to the front of the Praetor’s raised spine, where the secondary bridge was located. Meanwhile I am brought to a comms terminal where I punch in my codes and confirm my survival. It was too close, but the plan should still work.

  I straighten my uniform as I step on the next rail-car, the door closing behind me and the handful of my Adjutants which remained with me as I confirmed my survival. The door closes behind us and the car races towards our destination.

  “Sir ...” One of the Adjutants starts, a Sergeant Quintus, if memory serves, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Battle ain’t over.” I admonish, the doors opening for us as I speak. It’s a short walk to the secondary bridge where I find Senior Captain P’marik waiting for us.

  “Sir, I am happy to see you unharmed.” The Pantoran says in greeting.

  “As am I. Give me a sitrep.” I order as I march up to the smaller holographic display of our tactical situation.

  “Minor damage throughout our formation, but we’ve passed the enemy rearguard and are making good time on catching the enemy as they fall back.” P’marik answers.

  “And our south?” I ask, glancing downwards on the tactical display.

  “They’ve suffered less against a smaller enemy rearguard. They will likely catch up with the enemy before they can reach the relative safety of the anti-orbital battery on the south pole.” P’marik answers clinically.

  I frown. That wasn’t great. Would Hatha attempt a divide and conquer? He might manage it, but I wouldn’t allow it. And from that decision the battlefield changes in my minds eye. If Hatha attempted an attack on our south, I would rush for them and get him from the side. If he tried the same in the north I would endure long enough until my southern forces could do the same.

  “Sir, we’re detecting multiple transports emerging from Mintooine’s ocean and the administrative complex.” A sensors officer from the original bridge reports, having joined a counterpart at their station.

  My eyes widen in realization. Hatha wasn’t playing to win. He was playing for time. Evacuating engineers and military resources from the world. The enemy’s already destroyed the shipyards and docks facing towards Dac. They wouldn’t hesitate doing the same to the yards above Mintooine’s south pole. Leaving the world almost useless. Now the question was, would I let Hatha win a partial victory, or go all in? There was a trio of enemy defensive installations ahead of us now.

  “Almost have the enemy ships in range, sir.”

  I hesitate. The enemy splits off another portion of their forces, the six cruisers, a Captor, two Recusant heavy destroyers and the sole remaining Lucrehulk coming about to face us head on. Foolish, they should have done so after we’d engaged the defensive installations.

  I take a deep breath before speaking: “Fire when in range. Now is not the time for mercy.”