I was watching the strategic display on the Little Revenge’s bridge as if it held all the answers to the galaxy’s billions upon billions of questions. I tap my holster as my eyes close in on the Giblim Route. It hadn’t been unexpected that the Seps would try a counter attack, but Maker they couldn’t have timed it better if they’d tried.

  Oh sure, Mintooine had provided quite a victory. Promotions had been dolled out to lesser officers, reinforcements had been promised and new loyalist colonists now operated Mintooine’s shipyards. Though they didn’t settle in the ghost towns, I had forbidden it. It seemed … wrong to occupy the house of someone who may very well wish to return some day. So instead plans were being drawn up to make Mintooine a much harder nut to crack. Shipyards towed to the increasingly fortified moon, wreckage dismantled to construct basic habitats around the anti-orbtial batteries that pockmarked the lunar surface and plans to establish a significant joint Republic and Merchant Fleet garrison around the now lunar shipyards.

  Yet while the paperwork was being done for that new project and many others, ships were undergoing repairs and retrofits. During that I was still guarding Mintooine, after all, the enemy hadn’t been idle. Hondo had reported a sighting of a Sep fleet heading right for Mintooine, racing along the Giblim Route from The Free Dac’s new headquarters at Argai. Of course he had also used that moment to collect his bounties on another six Sep frigates and a cruiser, but that was beside the point.

  I needed a point where I could defeat this enemy formation in detail. Hondo had reported a Providence Dreadnought alongside a Lucrehulk, four heavy destroyers and some twenty two cruisers of varying make. The sensor buoys were backing up the usually cordial pirate and I was rapidly finding myself with my pants down.

  I needed a chokepoint before Mintooine. Somewhere where I can negate the enemy’s numbers, maybe even make them disadvantageous. There aren’t many options to choose from. There’s a nice nebula I’d love to abuse again, but the enemy force has already passed it, far too close to Dellalt for me to use now, a pity really. I suppose I could try and use Mintooine itself, but … the enemy could very well use my own tactic against me and I hate how easy it would be for them. No, Mintooine only as the very last resort.

  Something finally jumps out at me. Where the Giblim Route bends for its long stretch of nothing there is a small rogue brown dwarf with a large elliptical sphere of an asteroid belt. Fully surrounding the failed star with the designated path for ships going straight through it, or else be caught up in a heavy dose of radiation from a dying star not too far away in the grand scheme of things. It was almost perfect. One way in, one way out.

  I zoom in on the two entry points to the inner parts of the asteroid belt and smile wider, an idea taking form, an evil idea, a malicious idea. Something I had always wanted to attempt. I think for a moment as an even larger grin mares my face, I even have a perfect starchart for this. A recent acquisition from the destroyed bridge of Mintooine’s primary defender’s flagship.

  “Yes, this will do nicely.” I mutter to myself. It certainly would.

  “Minefields in position?” I ask as I nervously tap my slugthrower’s holster.

  “Yes, sir.” Mi-Kus says.

  “Tugs in position?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir. They’re going comm silent now, awaiting your orders.” Lieutenant Slas says.

  “Unit Buckler ready?”

  “Commodore Strom’s men are in position and awaiting their orders with dread.” Mi-Kus answers.

  “And our units within the asteroid belt?” I finally ask.

  “Avoiding space dust as we speak.” Lieutenant Welder pipes up, probably having the best position to view the five groups of AT-TE walkers hidden among the corridor of the asteroid belt.

  “So, everything is ready then?” I ask. Maker why was I feeling so fucking nervous? It was just another battle. Another fight with the odds against me. Another scrap where things will inevitably go wrong somehow. No, it will be fine. I take a deep breath in and let it slowly leave. It will work.

  “Our sensor buoys have detected the enemy force, sir.” Welder reports.

  “And?” I ask.

  “They’re out. One Providence class dreadnought, one Lucrehulk battleship, four Recusant heavy destroyers, six Recusant light destroyers, six Diamond cruisers, four Captor cruiser carriers, six Munifex cruisers and half a dozen Gozantis.”

  “Current vectors?” I ask.

  “Looks like they’re falling for the traps, sir.” Welder reports.

  “Good.” I mutter. Once they were within the asteroid field their fate would be sealed.

  Senator Bic Dededod Hod was sitting very comfortably in his office, having just taken a bite out of a nice salad he was enjoying for lunch. The Gado had had a lovely day so far. A short stint in the Senate to approve an investigation against Republic Intelligence’s overreach against the Naval Operations Department. That had been an easy vote, even with some of the more warmongering Senators, like that human bitch Paige-Tarkin, Dededod did not like her a bit.

  His intercom buzzes lightly and he pauses his meal to quickly activate it: “Yes?”

  “Visitor for you, sir. It’s Senator Organa.”

  “Oh very well, let him in.” Dededod says, before taking another bite of his salad. Soon enough the door opens to reveal the Alderaani Senator.

  “Senator Bic.” Organa says.

  “Dededod, please, I insist.” The Gado Senator says as he comes around to offer the Human his hand.

  “Then I insist on Bail.” Organa says, shaking the Gado’s hand before Dededod offers him a seat in the little couch area. The Gados always did find it worked best for meetings, very relaxing.

  “Now, what may I help you with?” The Senator of Abregado-rae asks.

  “Nothing much I’m afraid. I was merely curious about your vote on the investigation of Republic Intelligence. It doesn’t line up with your usual habits.”

  “I wasn’t aware I had such influence that I was worth keeping track of.” Dededod mentions, his teeth flaring minutely, despite his best efforts. Oh his grandmother would smack him if she saw that.

  “Well, ever since the secession of the Tapani Sector, the Giju Sector and Jaso Sector yours and Senator Zar’s votes have become far more important, even with the Tapani sending a new delegate and much of the Giju Sector returning to the fold. Though your position more than Senator Zar’s is often of note. on account of you not being a member of the Loyalist Committee.” The Alderaani offers.

  Dededod’s eyes narrow slightly. It was … unnerving. He did not like the extra attention, he simply wished to serve his constituents, usual or unusual, as best as he was able to.

  After a moment the Alderaani continues: “I mean no offense of course. It was more personal curiosity.”

  “None taken.” The Gados says, trying to abate any possible offense, “No, it still surprises me of my importance during this time of conflict. No, my vote was cast for a few reasons. First was the increasing power of Republic Intelligence specifically. They’ve been taking power away from Navy Intelligence, Army Intelligence, the Jedi’s informal networks and the multitude of independent agents employed by the Marshal Administrators throughout the fronts.”

  “It is interesting how the Senate Bureau of Intelligence is the other primary benefactor of that centralization.” Organa admits.

  “Well Isard does have much influence within your circles.” Dededod says, “Another reason was the murders of multiple staff officers within the Naval Operations Department and the Army Operations Department conducted by a group of rogue Republic Intelligence officers a handful of months ago.”

  “Yes, I heard of that. Ugly business.”

  “Very much so, they almost killed Rear Admiral Dericote. I would have been very much upset with that, he is serving me quite well in an indirect advisory role when it pertains to military matters.”

  “Isn’t that a conflict of interests?” Organa presses.

  “Oh, hardly. He gives me little other than his preference in doctrine and his opinions on ships as he gets them. Though I do believe it to be worth every credit so far.” Dededod smirks.

  “I assume he doesn’t always notice when he says too much?” Organa says, his face also carrying a knowing smile.

  “Oh yes. I have learned of some wonderful muck slinging going on between the different factions within the Navy on doctrine. Fleet Admiral Honor’s HONO Clique appears to be doing quite well against the Tarkins’ own clique.” Dededod offers freely. Information which was easy to come by was always a good way to ease later points of entry.

  “I had heard of it, but I didn’t know the scuffles on ideology had devolved into muck slinging.”

  “It isn’t that surprising when Fleet Admiral Honor keeps snatching up the most hopeful military officers.”

  “Your contracting adviser being one of them, no?” Organa presses.

  “Well, he did recently seize Pammant and from what my friends in the Military Oversight Committee have told me, also seized Mintooine.”

  “Incredible. I was lead to believe Mintooine would be one of the last worlds to fall. Didn’t it have intensive anti-orbital facilities?”

  “Still does, from what I’m aware. The HONO Clique used up a bit of influence to get Dericote the forces he needed for the battle to succeed.”

  “Then it should please both you and Dericote to hear the rumors about promoting the man to Vice Admiral.” Organa confesses.

  “Another promotion so soon? Currents at this rate he’ll be the fastest rank climber in a thousand years, if you exclude the Jedi.”

  “Looks like you choose your contracted adviser well.”

  “I will have to congratulate him soon then. Though I doubt he’ll make it back to Coruscant for this promotion.”

  “Why ever not?” Organa presses.

  “Why I assume he’ll be busy taking on another fortress for the hells of it.” Dededod says, his face carrying a simple smile.

  “Then maybe this war will be over soon.” Organa hopes.

  “Probably not, but it is nice to fantasize.” Dededod adds.

  “Though if this war does end, we will have to figure out the powers of the Supreme Chancellery once more.”

  “And the true reason for your appearance is revealed.” Dededod says, his eyes narrowing and teeth barred in excitement. Yes, he will have to carefully nurture this new connection with a high ranking dissident in the Supreme Chancellor’s camp.

  “Enemy forces have entered the second tunnel.” Welder reports.

  “Adjust the line, bring the Venators forward, place them between the gaps of the Dreadnoughts, down two hundred meters. The Constellation in position?” I ask.

  “Two hundred meters above us, angled down by ten degrees.” Comes the reply.

  “Unit Buckler may begin their advance. Maker keep them.” I order. It was probably the riskiest part of this. If I didn’t have a good chart of the system I would never have sent the five ships and half my fighters and bombers through the asteroid field.

  “Sir, I have a message from Commodore Strom.”

  “And?” I ask.

  “May I quote him directly?” Lieutenant Slas asks, her voice poorly hiding her glee at whatever it is Faxe just uttered.

  “Go ahead. I’ve probably heard it before.” I mutter.

  “He says the next time you two share a space he’ll punch you in the face before throwing you out an airlock with half a tank of oxygen.”

  “Well, can’t say I can blame him after this.” I mutter as I watch the detachment of light cruisers, frigates, corvettes and fighters soar into the asteroid belt.

  The Sep fleet is leading with the four Recusant heavy destroyers, though interestingly they’re assembled in a way that the upper armor is facing the asteroids, as if expecting me to pull something … nefarious. I can’t say I blame them for it. Following the quartet of heavy destroyers is the Providence class dreadnought, flanked by a mixture of three Munifex and two Diamond cruisers. After the enemy flagship comes the remaining Recusant light destroyers and enemy cruisers, Gazontis spread throughout the formation. Interestingly enough the enemy Lucrehulk is staying behind with the Captors.

  “Are anti-fighter fragmentation missiles ready and loaded?” I ask as I look at the minefield right ahead of me. The enemy would need to either slowly dismantle it, or plow through it to get into firing range and, theoretically, so would I.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Yes, sir.” Mi-Kus answers.

  I hum noncommittally. I had purposefully prepared multiple options for this battle. The enemy outnumbered my more severely than I’d usually enjoy and I lacked booth fighter superiority and the shock and awe of a surprise attack I preferred in raids. So instead my third love, terrain advantage, will lead the way. We were solidly within the last few kilometers of the asteroid tunnel, to avoid radiation, but so close to the end, the enemy won’t be able to resist.

  “Enemy slowing.” Welder reports.

  I hum again. The enemy was being overly hesitant. Probably would do better on defense than offense. Best prepare the trap without closing the cage. Fighting a mudpuppy with no chance of escape except through you is never a fun, or safe experience: “Prepare to signal the tugs.”

  Then the four Recusant heavies in front of us lurch forwards, picking up speed. My face gains a bloodthirsty grin as they reach the point of no return. Even if they go fully into revers it’ll be far too late.

  “Fire missiles, wait twenty seconds, then fire heavy turbolaser salvo.” I order calmly.

  “Launch!” Mi-Kus barks.

  I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of watching some two dozen missiles soar towards my enemy. The Recusants realize their predicament too late. They were likely going to take singular mines one by one with their turbolasers and lasercannons, while flinging the occasional asteroid at the minefield with their tractor beams. Instead they’ve overshot themselves, assumed we wouldn’t mind them taking a couple mines onto their shields as they started carving away.

  The missiles disassemble into a scattering of shrapnel, racing towards the mines, then one by one they impact. Just as the four heavy destroyers punch through the first dozen mines, lasercannons and turbolasers firing in wild abandon, the chain reaction begins. In a cruel sort of way, it is quite pretty. Brown light shining upon us from ahead to our starboard, the enemy ships piercing through an explosion of reds, oranges and gold, their shields breaking and hull taking damage as the more reinforced mines explode against their hulls after being flung at them from the earlier explosions.

  “Fire heavy turbolasers now.” I order softly, almost entranced by the flames licking the hulls. Soon enough over a dozen heavy turbolaser batteries answer my call and launch their ordnance against the enemy ships.

  The plasma breaks through the already damaged hulls of the four Recusants. Soon enough I can see the ships leaking flames, explosions rocking their insides as the minefield disappears. Sure there were still a handful, maybe a dozen or two, reinforced mines which neither smashed against the enemy hulls, nor detonated from shrapnel, but they were widespread and unlikely to do anything other than annoy the enemy.

  “Enemy ships disabled, sir.” Lieutenant Welder reports.

  “An effective opening to the battle.” Mi-Kus mutters.

  “The enemy still outnumbers us. Keep vigilant. Any damage to report?” I ask.

  “Negative, sir.”

  Good. Time for the next phase: “Launch fighters and bombers, assemble a short screen and prepare a mixed volley of anti-fighter fragmentation missiles and concussion missiles. Split it evenly through the formation.”

  “Hedging our bets, sir?” Mi-Kus asks.

  “I’d rather be safe than sorry.” I mutter. The enemy had a few choices. Wait as their cutters, tugs and other tractor beam capable ships moved the Recusants out of the way, plow through and hope for the best, or send forward their fighters. I wanted them to send their fighters through. It would serve me best and give me fighter superiority.

  “Looks like enemy Munifex and Diamond class cruisers are breaking out of formation alongside … maybe seven wings of fighters. About half of the estimate we had for their total numbers.” Lieutenant Welder reports.

  I frown. Not what I wanted, I’d prefer the enemy coming at me piecemeal, but at least their cruisers shouldn’t be able to force their way through the wreckage like the Providence class dreadnought or the Lucrehulk they had in reserve.

  “Probably for the best we mixed the missiles.” Mi-Kus mutters to himself.

  “Wait until they enter range, then fire two volleys of heavies, followed by the missiles.” I order, thinking on the fly.

  Blue plasma races towards the enemy, thudding against the shields of the enemy cruisers, catching a handful of Vultures, Hyenas and Tri-fighters as they do so. One Munifex, clearly poorly maintained, looses her shields with the first volley, a following shot tearing her bridge off and turning her upper hull to slag. The ships drifts for a moment, carried by momentum and her last orders, before her engines return, the secondary bridge having taken over.

  The second volley is countered by a salvo of enemy missiles, our own missiles launching just as the heavy turbolasers smash against the Sep ships.

  The missiles race towards one another as I make my decision: “Go ahead and detonate the anti-fighter fragmentation missiles now. I’d like the enemy ordnance to be limited.”

  The missiles detonate early as ordered, the shrapnel breaking maybe a good two thirds of the enemy missiles, our remaining missiles following the shrapnel like mudpuppy’s do a bit of grub. Our remaining missiles and shrapnel smash against the Sep ships as their missiles smash against ours.

  “Shields taking it well.” A tech barks from the trench.

  “Fire heavy turbolasers at will. If they manage to enter closer range, feel free to unleash all firepower available.” I order, another volley of heavy turbolaser fire discharging from the batteries below and above me.

  The ordnance smashes once more into the enemy ships, the Diamonds launching another volley of missiles our way as they suffer the punishment for … a punishment for … oh why am I even fighting anymore? I shake my head, now was not the time for internal doubts, for thinking about how fishy so much of what is happening in the Republic is, for wondering who will end up genuinely winning this war. I sigh as the missiles impact our shields, another volley of heavy and now medium turbolaser fire turning more and more of the enemy ships to slag. Probably the war-profiteers, the Supreme Chancellor’s allies and Isard, if the information General Solomahal was dragging up was accurate.

  My mood now firmly ruined I don’t even bother reacting when the last three Sep cruisers end up as scrap, a bit too close for comfort, but not by much. I do however suppress a flinch when a squadron of Hyenas hurls a salvo of proton torpedoes at my bridge, the shields barely surviving the onslaught.

  “Fighters are to break off and engage at will. Bring the pickets in closer and focus fire on enemy bombers. Sitrep on Unit Buckler!” I bark, the adrenaline kicking me back into action.

  “Unit Buckler is almost through and awaiting orders.”

  “Give the all clear to engage enemy rearguard and give the go ahead to our tugs.” I order. The enemy only had six Recusants light destroyers, the Providence dreadnought, the four Captors and the Lucrehulk remaining. In exchange I have suffered no ship losses, excluding whatever fighters got unlucky in the asteroid field, or had lost themselves to enemy fighters. I have evened the playing field and by the time the Seps realize they’ve been trapped they’ll only see one way out, that being through me.

  I watch as the fighters and bombers swarm around us, like angry wasps, or the occasional sandcricket swarms we’d get once every twelve years or so. A Vulture goes up in flames in front of us, a Starchaser, Lieutenant Commander Solo’s based off of the markings I could catch, soaring through the fiery explosion to buzz the bridge, her wingman following close behind.

  “Providence has broken past the Recusants. It’ll be in range soon.” The gunnery Adjutant reports form one of the trenches.

  I take a solid glance at the tactical display. The enemy ships had fully separated, the Providence and Recusants forming a three dimensional arrowhead formation, the Recusants all around the Providence, maybe half the dreadnought’s ship-length behind it. Meanwhile the Captors and Lucrehulk have hunkered down, their detachment of fighters and bombers holding much closer, while the other quarter of Sep strikecraft race to join their brethren in the melee around my ships.

  “Launch missiles when in range, fire turbolasers at will. Prioritize damaging the Providence.” I order, then after a moment’s hesitation I add, “Prepare all AT-TE units to open fire on my command.”

  “Missiles can be easily intercepted, sir.” Mi-Kus warns.

  “Either they’ll punch a hole into the enemy, or they’ll pull enemy fighters away. Either way, we win.” I say.

  Mi-Kus’s eyes widen slightly as another piece of the puzzle of my reasoning slides into place: “And we’re close enough for a solid resupply.”

  “So we can afford to waste them.” I finish for the man.

  “Enemy ships entering heavy turbolaser range.”

  A solid volley of turbolasers and missiles race towards the enemy ships just as the sensors officer finishes speaking. I frown when the enemy doesn’t answer the volley with one of their own. These are droid fighters, they’re supposed to be expendable, so why aren’t the enemy opening fire.

  “Another volley of missiles, then switch to protons.” I order as another volley of heavy turbolasers smash into the shields of the enemy, their own volley of heavy turbolaser fire emerging and crashing against our shields.

  “Shields are out!” A tech barks.

  “Open up the bridge.” I order, the doors opening fully in case of emergency.

  “Lost battery D!” Someone barks in shock. My face contours into an intense frown. I hated it when my ship was damaged and I hated it more when brave souls died screaming without an escape.

  “Enemy in position yet?” I bark.

  “Almost, sir.” Comes the reply as another punishing exchange of turbolasers smash into the shields and hulls of booth side’s ships.

  “Tugs have successfully deployed the mines as ordered.”

  “Enemy in medium turbolaser range.”

  “Enemy formation looks to have shields at double front.”

  “ALL UNITS FIRE!” I shout, seizing the opportunity that the enemy just gave me with an almost feral eagerness.

  A singular escape pod is shot forward out of the Little Revenge as the medium turbolasers join their larger counterparts in bombarding the Sep ships. Maybe fifteen seconds later and a swarm of AT-TEs emerge from behind the horizons of their respective asteroids and open fire with their mass drivers, the plasma shells burrowing themselves into the rears of the enemy ships. The unshielded rears.

  When I had originally read about Skywalker doing this I didn’t believe it. Since when do Jedi teach tactics from the Fifth Alsakan Conflict? I would understand it if the tactics of Admiral Hirken had been used by an Alsakan, or even a rare Carida trained officer who specialized in history, Maker knows I’ve been curious to try it, but a Jedi? Skywalker specifically? I guess war brings out the most in people, most cruelty, most bravery, most ingenuity, even the most ridiculous.

  The tactic was rather simple all be told. Force the enemy to traverse some kind of asteroid belt and use pressurized artillery, droid artillery, or automatized artillery, whichever was on hand, to shoot at the enemy from behind while their shields were focused or broken. Admiral Hirken had favored nuclear missile capable rocket artillery, ensuring the deaths of his enemy’s crew and a more difficult salvage for his foes if they ever seized the systems he defended.

  I had been very meticulous with the positioning of the three AT-TE detachments in our front. Made sure their sizes wouldn’t disrupt the positioning of the asteroids and that the asteroids could survive a good number of hits if fired upon. And now, I suppress a chuckle, now the enemy learned why any man who has ever learned of Admiral Hirken’s tactics fears an asteroid belt more than any anti-orbital battery.

  “Enemy ships suffering major damage. I’m detecting a reactor leak on the bottom starboard Recusant. She might blow.” Welder warns.

  “Good thing we don’t have fighters attacking them then.” I say as a Headhunter races past the bridge, a Vulture, Tri-fighter and Y-Wing in pursuit.

  “Sir, incoming transmission from Coruscant.” Lieutenant Slas interrupts.

  I blink in mild confusion, an explosion casting my right face in red as I turn to the Mon Calamari officer: “Recorded or live? Wait, do they not know we’re engaging the enemy?”

  “Live, sir. It’s the Joint Chiefs.”

  “Fucking schei?, idiotic, fucking mulkic lizardshits. FINE!” I curse, “Put them on, front and center. Show those idiots that not everything can run on their schedule.”

  Soon enough the tactical display shrinks and moves to my left, replaced by the holographic depictions of half a dozen sentients. Front and center is Chancellor Palpatine, sitting behind his desk, to his right is the chucklefuck Director Isard of Republic Intelligence and half a dozen other intelligence branches, to the Chancellor’s left is Jedi High General Windu, looking equally annoyed at being present.

  An explosion rocks one of the Recusants ahead as I shift my gaze around. I recognize Fleet Admiral Honor on Isard’s right and Fleet Admiral Coburn on her right, representing the Admiralty based off of the small pin above his rank plaque. Finally there’s Sector General Praji of the Fourth Sector Army, representing the General Staff of the Republic. There’s also a handful of Senators, none of which I could name, probably loyalist committee floozies.

  I wait an agonizingly long three seconds, glaring at the tactical display and ignoring the fuckheads who didn’t think to wait for me to be disengaged before comming me. I finally turn to face them and snap a salute. Honor looks unhappy, frowning, though I can’t say for certain if she’s angry at me or on my behalf. Coburn is, in fact, glaring at Isard, while Praji looks disgruntled in general.

  “Your excellency, I am afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time.” I say coldly, trying to split my attention between the tactical display and the holograms of my superiors. The Providence was pushing forward, having been spared the most of the AT-TE fire.

  “I am sorry for this interruption, but it was decided this morning that you are to receive a new task alongside a promotion to Vice Admiral.” General Windu says.

  I suppress a groan. This should have been a report. Another enemy Recusant goes down, followed by a Gozanti that had survived somehow. An Acclamtor goes dark, her crew abandoning ship as it tilts downwards. That would limit our firing arcs. My frown deepens.

  “What is the new task?” I ask, picking two squadrons of bombers from within the rapidly ending melee to make a run on the enemy Providence.

  “After the troubles with Zygeria we believe it will be prudent to consolidate multiple commands and to push the enemy further.” Fleet Admiral Honor begins, “You are to seize as much of the Ash Worlds Sector as practical and begin conducting raids and probes against enemy forces in the Southern Tion Cluster.”

  I frown as I direct another group of fighters and bombers towards the damaged Providence. It was getting too close. Another Recusant dies in a fiery blaze as I get notified that Unit Buckler has begun their attack on the enemy’s reserve.

  “Push our line forwards and have any bombers which have completed their run on the Providence carry on to Unit Buckler.” I order, before turning back to the holograms, “I assume you have multiple worlds in mind for me to probe.”

  “Yes, we wish for you to raid, if not seize, all of the following systems. Specifically the systems of Dellalt, Pakuuni, Telaris and Mullan.” Director Isard says, his tone cold.

  I frown as I answer: “It will be difficult for my forces, personal or theater wide, to conduct those raids alongside consolidating our hold in the Ash Worlds without sacrificing our security.”

  Director Isard frowns with a counter: “I was told-”

  My eye catches something. One of the Recusants putting full power into her engines, despite the damage, shooting for the Mon Cala’s Joy. My eyes widen as I bark out my orders: “Slas! Mon Cala’s Joy to take evasive actions now! Enemy Recusant on collision course and not slowing. Bring up the reserve Acclamators to cover for her maneuver!”

  “Enemy Providence about to enter proton torpedo range, sir.” Mi-Kus warns. Damn dreadnought was getting too close.

  “Launch torps, then pull back. Intensify flack fire and coordinate with our corvettes. I do not want to end up in her tubes’ firing arcs! We'll let her into our formation and overwhelm it from all sides and be careful in maneuvering.” I order, my eyes don’t fail to leave the tactical display as I speak back to Director Isard, Mi-Kus giving a quiet adjustment order to my helmsman as I do, “Who told you what?”

  The man’s tone is annoyed, but he carries on anyway: “I was told by a trusted operative that your forces should be enough to conduct all of the objectives listed easily.”

  “Suppose that could be right, maybe two weeks ago just before Mintooine. Now we’re scrambling and have most of our forces undergoing repairs. I’m fighting an enemy more than three times my tonnage and only holding out by falling back on the tactics of the Fifth Alsakan Conflict.”

  “Excuse me, but I am uncertain of what you refer to.” Chancellor Palpatine says.

  “I am sorry, your excellency, but as I am currently trying to not die I will refrain you from an explanation. If you are interested, my old Professor at Carida conducted an interesting paper on the topic and I can send it as reference in my next re- HELMSMAN, DIVE! 200 METERS, STAT!” I shout.

  “200 meters stat!” He barks back, “It’ll be close!”

  “Shields to top, pickets with us and prepare my codes for transfer!” I bark in order.

  I catch the pair of Fleet Admirals looking concerned, but I shake it off. They could complain later, I needed to focus now. The Providence was suffering from some bad damage. The fighters, bombers, corvettes, frigates and light cruisers of Unit Buckler were doing good damage against the enemy reserve. Having destroyed two of the Captors and heavily damaged the Lucrehulk and another Captor.

  “Helmsman! Rotation spin one eighty degrees!” I order.

  “Load protons and angle turret down ninety degrees! All batteries face downwards and spread shields out!” Mi-Kus adds, seeing where I was going with this.

  “Dericote!” Honor barks her voice carrying the warning.

  “Sorry, ma'am, no more distractions. Cut the transmission!” I bark back, ignoring the spectators from Coruscant as I march through their disappearing holograms to the edge of the windows. We were standing still while the Providence kept moving forward, slower from damage taken to her engines, but still faster than I’d like. The tertiary bridge tower will be a problem.

  “Cut movement countermeasures and FIRE!” I bark, before rushing over to the Helmsman’s post and taking a quick look at the ship’s relative position.

  The explosions along the enemy’s lower hull push us down by a few meters, keeping the momentum from the explosions. We’d need more distance.

  “Fire in own time!” Mi-Kus orders, another series of explosions forcing us down slightly faster.

  It wouldn’t be enough. Even with the enemy’s counter fire it won’t be enough: “Helmsman, portside roll, one eighty degrees. Make it at least a hundred meters!”

  “Shooting for one fifty meters.” The Helmsman barks in reply as the Little Revenge starts rolling on its side.

  “Rotate tube turret to nine o’clock position, level, may fire at will, all batteries rotate topside.” Mi-Kus barks in order.

  “Bring our ships in close, I am overriding Captain’s orders. All ships fire in own time.” I order.

  “Enemy ship suffering some kind of reactor leak. Unsure if its critical or not.” Welder reports

  “Shields?” I bark.

  “Almost at full.”

  “Well if it's a bad critical we’re fucked either way.” I mutter.

  “Lock down the ship!” Mi-Kus orders.

  “Enemy reactor is going critical.” A sensors officer warns.

  “Looks like we’re about to give the entire fleet a new paintjob.” I mutter coldly.

  “This is not the time, sir!” Mi-Kus admonishes.

  “I’m detecting enemy escape pods launching.” Welder reports.

  “She’s blowing!”

  “BRACE!” I and Mi-Kus shout in unison.

  I almost fall from my position at the Helmsman’s side, but manage to right myself, even with the aftershocks. Then I feel something smash against my head and fall tot he ground. Everything goes black for a moment, then I awake with a gasp.

  “Fuck, what hit me?” I ask as I rub the side of my head, bandaged, that didn’t bode well.

  “Unsecured mouse droid from the vent access point.” The medical officer who is shining a light into my eyes answers.

  “Karking hell. Didn’t I say to brace?” I mutter as I glance around. I was still on the bridge, good.

  “Droid was a bit on the fritz, sir.” Mi-Kus says, helping me up alongside the medic.

  “Sitrep.” I ask.

  “Enemy ships disabled or destroyed. We’ve begun grabbing any escape pods we can. We lost shields when the explosions hit us, but hull integrity is at acceptable levels and we suffered no major damage from it.”

  I nod before realizing that it seemed like too much had happened: “How long was I out?”

  “About ten minutes, sir.”

  “Fucking hells.” I mutter to myself.

  “Coruscant’s been hailing us since you were knocked out. We decided to run interference until you were ready. The explosion apparently did some minor damage to our comms suite.” Mi-Kus quietly confides.

  “Alright. Alright.” I mumble rubbing my head, annoyed at the fucking bandages, “Give me a hot sec, then I’ll take them again.”

  I double check my uniform, face contorting into a frown when I notice my officer’s cap has gone missing. Though the frown disappears when R4 hands it back to me. I give her a quick pat before re-affixing it to my head.

  “Ready to hear me get a beat down?” I ask Mi-Kus playfully.

  The Captain sighs before answering: “Wouldn’t be you, if I wasn’t sir.”

  “Fair ‘nuff.” I say, “Lieutenant Slas, whenever you are willing.”

  “Transmissions back, sir.” She says. And soon enough the holograms appear once more. All persons looking either agitated or relieved at my continued existence.

  “Apologies, your excellency, sirs, ma’am. The battle required my full attention.” I say as I feel part of the bandages dampen. Karking hell, this was not the time for that.

  “Apology accepted, young man.” The Supreme Chancellor interjects before Isard or anyone else can chew me out, “It isn’t often we manage to catch one of our officers in the middle of a battle so dear.”

  “Thank you, your excellency. I am sorry, but I am uncertain of what else is due from the Joint Chiefs.” I say, bowing my head slightly as I do so.

  “I would assume your … promotion, the ceremonies must be discussed.” Sector General Praji says, he was one of Tarkin’s men, wasn’t he. His hesitancy was well warranted, I was climbing the ranks about as fast as Wilhuf Tarkin, though I think he was promoted to Vice Admiral a few months ago while I was preparing for Mintooine.

  “What is there to discuss?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light, “I have my new orders, I will clearly be unable to travel to Coruscant when they are so time sensitive.”

  “Of course not.” Honor interjects, ah so there was a bit of a split there, “That would slow the planning and execution of the operations.”

  “Very well then.” I say, “I shall await whatever rank plaque I need and continue my duties.”

  General Windu speaks next: “There is also consideration of an additional squadron to be placed within the command alongside a permanent Jedi General and mobile Taskforce, as long as that is … suitable.”

  I raise my eyebrow slightly at that. Surprising that this was even worth discussing: “I have no say, in the matter, sir.”

  “And yet as Marshal Administrator you could make it very difficult for the Jedi to operate within your territories.” Windu says, his tone cold.

  I frown: “What do you take me for? I am no petty warlord or a malicious bastard.”

  “You did kill a Jedi Master.” Isard says demurely.

  “In self defense.” I counter, my eyes narrowing, “After he ordered an unprovoked Base Delta Zero on a world with a major civilian population, after manipulating me to journey with him and following that up by attacking me, resisting arrest, attacking his bridge crew, murdering said bridge crew and finally maiming me alongside confessing his intent to defect. Did you not read my reports on the matter before insinuating my disloyalty, Director?”

  Isard’s mouth twitches slightly. Had I fallen into some kind of trap? It mattered little now, my attention shifting back to High General Windu: “Sir?”

  “Expect forces to arrive to your command within the week. That is all on my end.” The Jedi says.

  “The Admiralty has also decided point on the permanent transfer of the 111th Colonies Cruiser Squadron to your personal command. Though I believe that is everything.” Fleet Admiral Coburn says.

  “Then I would request dismissal to see to my men and reorganize my forces in case of another Separatist attack.” I request, returning to a state of attention.

  “Simply one last thing.” Fleet Admiral Honor interrupts, “You do not have the authority to dismiss us, even when under duress. Don’t let it happen again.”

  She looked pissed. I nod like an idiot, suppressing a growing frown. What else did she expect form me?

  The Supreme Chancellor is simply smiling, yet somehow grabs everyone’s attention as he speaks: “Then I do believe that is all. Congratulations on your promotion, Vice Admiral Dericote. Do try and not suffer any further injuries.”

  “I will do my best, your excellency.” I reply quietly.

  “Then that will be all.” The Supreme Chancellor says, before the holotransmission goes out. I wait a moment before throwing my cap on the ground in frustration. Fucking politicians the lot of them.