I’m not sure how I managed to scrounge the energy together to manage our return to Dac, but I did. It was an anxiety filled trip that reminded me too much of the retreat I led after the deaths of more than half of the original 347th. I also got drunk the moment we entered our usual repair yard. So drunk apparently, that I can’t remember anything after getting into dock. The hangover was terrible and worse yet R4 not only locked the liquor cabinet, but had also hidden the key somewhere. Bitch of a droid.

  I’m still nursing the Maker forsaken hangover as I march onto the bridge. We’d only lost a couple hundred sailors and pilots alongside a couple escorts, though among the pilots were all but one of our original veterans, I imediatly decided I should avoid Solo at all cost for the foreseeable future. All in all, it wasn’t bad- and suddenly I have the intense urge to pick up a bottle again. I hate having to think in numbers. Two hundred seven sentients are dead, Maker I knew more than a handful decently enough and I barely feel a thing other than the ever present stress and guilt of command, mixed with the shameful relief that I wasn’t one of the dead left behind in cursed Dellalt.

  I should see if Solo still has that bottle of Corellian I gave her, though ... no, I really shouldn't approach her for a week or two. I take the offered report as I stand at the center of the bridge, most of the crew is gone, taking shore leave or relaxing in their off time, so I try to relax slightly as my skull continues to feel like its being used by a percussionist.

  I gratefully take the cup of caf being offered by one of the few strategic Adjutants still on deck as I start reading through my newest reports. I almost spit it out as I read the topmost piece of information.

  “Since when do Jedi come back from the dead?” I mutter as I take a closer look.

  Kenobi wasn’t dead. Something in here about a secret mission to protect the Chancellor and going undercover. I blink in confusion. Shouldn’t Republic Intelligence be doing stuff like this? Especially when Kenobi was one of the primary commanders of the Open Circle Fleet? It seemed … poorly thought out.

  “Sir?” The Sergeant asks.

  “Nothing, Kenobi didn’t kick it, went on some deep cover lizardshit.” I answer.

  “Should you be telling us this?” The Sergeant asks.

  “He’ll be back in the fight soon enough, you’d know by then anyway.” I answer as I continue to read through my reports.

  Looks like the Seps are pulling forces away from the northern Triellus Trade Route to further fortify Sep territories in the Ash Worlds as well as reinforce their repeated attempts coreward along the Perlimian. Admiral Trench was continuing to be a problem there. He was getting dangerously close to the 12 th Sector Army Headquarters at Lantilles.

  I tap my holster in agitation, if Trench begins a siege at Lantilles Therbon may very well cut resources to my command to shore up his headquarters. Not that I could blame him for it, but doing so would inevitably fuck me over. I take a look at my personal forces, handing the datapad with the briefings over to R4 for later viewing.

  Seventy two ships under my personal command, one battleship, the Constellation, three Dreadnoughts, eight Acclamators, the MC40a, Dac’s Guard, the eight remaining Fondorian Hammerhead cruisers of the 111 th Colonies Cruiser Squadron, seven Arquitens light cruisers, two MC30c frigates, four Pelta armed frigates, thirteen Consulars, ten Sphyrnas, four CR90 corvettes, a MedStar medical ship and twelve Pelta transport frigates. Most of them were still undergoing minor repairs after the raid, but should be ready within the week.

  I could certainly count on them and the 99 th Battleship Section’s five Venators and five DP20s. Commodore Praut’s primary mission is to support my command, garrison Dac and act as a rapid response force in case of an attack against Ruisto, Mintooine or Pammant after all. High command wouldn’t risk their departure from my command. Though the three Venators of the 28th Battleship Section may be up for negotiation.

  I could probably also count on Commodore Abelard’s and Commodore Jim’s squadrons, as the two were acting as my primary delegates to the Ash Worlds Sector and Jubilar Sector respectively. That reminded me, Jim mentioned a promising officer from Mykapo he wanted to promote to command a new section. Of course that means I’d need to find a section to reactivate for the officer, but that didn’t appear to be too hard, more difficult would be getting ships for it, especially with Trench causing problems.

  Which brought me back to my usual problems. Not enough forces. Maybe if the Jedi see me playing nice with General Tapal I can count on more ships? I scoff at the idea. I’d be more likely to get a donation from a Hutt. No, I’d need to secure further forces from other sources. Maybe Targonn would be willing to donate some of her navy? Probably not, they were already supplying another three regiments to my command, who would have thought so many of their people would want to repay the Republic’s liberation from oppression by signing up as volunteers. I should sign Targonn up as a possible location for a blaster factory to help them supply their forces on planet.

  I’ll contact Governor Squeak about it soon, get his opinion on it, then offer to help him with negotiations. Shouldn’t be too hard to find a bit of time to help the bastard. I had a bit of a soft spot for his world after all.

  I begin to hum in consideration. Ship production was finally fully kicking into wartime production, it only took two years. Mon Cala, Ruisto, Pammant and Dornea finally willing to sell more ships to the Republic in the process. I had snatched up the opportunity. Based off of the usual production rates I could expect ten Dreadnought M4 heavy cruisers within a month or two alongside two dozen Hammerhead corvettes and half a dozen Dornean gunships. I suppose I could get that Mykapan officer Jim recommended to be placed in charge of one of the corvette sections.

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  I continue to ponder about the possibility when a comms officer pipes up: “Sir, incoming transmission from Coruscant. Appears to be Fleet Admiral Honor.”

  “Put her on.” I mutter as I hand the datapad back to R4. She’d know what to do with it. I snap a salute as the Fleet Admiral’s hologram appears before me. Nothing unusual, so far so good.

  “Dericote.” She says in greeting.

  “Ma’am.” I reply, lowering the salute as I do.

  “Dismiss your bridge crew.” She orders.

  I raise my eyebrow in confusion: “Ma’am?”

  “This is sensitive information, Vice Admiral.”

  “Very well. Everyone out, R4 stay here and lock the doors.” I order, the crew filing out one by one, though only the techs from the trenches look particularly annoyed at me for having to climb out so soon after their shift started.

  The doors close and I hear the usual locking sound before I speak again: “What is it, ma’am?”

  “Your new orders.”

  “But the raids haven’t concluded yet, neither have our attempts at further securing the Ash Worlds.” I object mildly, my curiosity growing.

  “These orders are the next step. You are to prepare for them now, so that they may begin once the Ash Worlds are secured to an adequate degree.” The Fleet Admiral explains calmly.

  “Those orders being?”

  “Bring up your map.” She orders as I begin typing the commands for my full maps of the regional command. Her hologram shifts beside me as the map comes up. She hesitates a moment before speaking, “These are more detailed than the ones on Coruscant.”

  “Personal adjustments, ma’am. I have a bit of a hobby for collecting older maps, they usually include a couple worlds and systems which fell out of favor. It was easy enough to send a trusted Captain to check where the worlds should be after thousands of years of drift.”

  The Fleet Admiral shakes her head, a small smirk on her face as she continues: “Only you Dericote, would have a hobby which improves the war effort. Your mission will be to secure the northern Triellus Trade Route, from Junkfort Station to Sy Myrth. However you will have another goal before that. ”

  I blink in confusion as I zero in on the part of the map she had directed me towards. Sy Myrth was one of the most potent Sep strongholds. I’d need at least a fleet and a half to secure it and I was quite far away from the two promotions needed for such a command. My eyes narrow slightly as I look at my commanding officer, her face was back to her usual serenity.

  “What is the goal here?”

  “Officially to secure as much of the Triellus as possible.”

  “Unofficially?”

  “To get another Fleet Admiral in my camp.”

  “Shouldn’t Admiral Zsinj be on track for that?” I ask.

  “She’s already received her promotion after holding off a Sep counter attack heading towards Fondor, via Teyr. Now I am looking for the next possible Fleet Admiral to add to the clique.”

  “All due respect, mam, but I am still quite a bit young for a promotion to Fleet Admiral, no matter what the media may say on Coruscant. Furthermore, I doubt I’d get promoted to Fleet Admiral even if I manage to nab Sy Myrth. More likely the Tarkins will try to pin a medal on me instead.”

  “It hardly matters. If all goes to plan you’ll be promoted to Admiral by next year.”

  “Ma’am?” I ask, how the kark would she manage that?

  “That is where the goal before the north Triellus campaign is for, Dericote. However the first important piece of information is that Coburn was impressed by your actions on the Giblim, he is beginning to lean towards the HONO thanks to your actions and those of Fleet Admiral Zsinj. He has recommended you attend a meeting at the end of the year over Carida. For you to actually carry any speaking role there, you will require a promotion. I think if the Tarkins can get their prized scion to Admiral already, why can’t I get you there?”

  “The plan then, ma'am? I’ll need to know what you intend me to do, in order to actually do it.”

  “Cut the lip, Dericote.”

  “I’ll do my best, ma’am.” I answer in reply, face set in stone, though I’d bet R4 my eyes were full of mirth.

  “You’ll be seizing Dellalt within the year.”

  My mind freezes. My head turns towards her in shock and horror. She wants me to go back to Dellalt after having just raided the place? Did she not see the numbers I had shown in my report? Numbers which had undeniably increased since the raid? Does she want me dead? I clear my throat and face back towards the map as I speak next: “If you want me dead, mam, I’d at least ask you to tell me plainly.”

  “First of all, don’t worry. If it comes to that I will. Secondly you need to get over your fear of Dellalt. It is detrimental.”

  “Ma’am I lost my commanding officer there. We lost over half our ships and crew there. We only survived the deathtrap thanks to a fluke. I would ask you not to disrespect the quite respectful fear my men and I share for the system. Not to mention me doing just fine during our raid there a few days ago. A raid in which we discovered a large number of Sep ships. They outnumber us three to one!”

  “Your fear of the system is irrational and you know it. All it is, is the remaining stronghold of the Separatists within a hairsbreadth of Mintooine. You are to seize the system, you do not have to keep it, but it would be practical. Establish a blockade, destroy enemy infrastructure if you deem it necessary, but if you are to be promoted to Admiral by the end of the year, you will seize Dellalt.”

  “Will I receive reinforcements for the ordeal?” I ask, eyes still frozen on the world I had just karking left and didn’t want to return to.

  “Certainly. I’ll be diverting a squadron of ships of the line and their escorts to support your endeavors.” My superior answers.

  “From the Coruscant Defense Fleet?” I ask incredulously.

  “Where else from?”

  “Do you have … permission for that?” I ask.

  “Of course I do. The Supreme Chancellor himself green-lit the plan to drive a spike towards the political heart of the Confederacy, though regrettably you will only land a scratch instead of the crippling strike we secretly wished for.”

  I hesitate a moment before speaking again: “Permission to speak freely, ma’am?”

  “Don’t you do so anyway?” She asks, snidely.

  “Speaking freely also involves me returning to my usual cadence and vocabulary.” I explain.

  “Go ahead, Dericote.”

  “Ma’am, what the fuck is your plan with the HONO Clique? It doesn’t make sense to me. The Tarkins don’t have the influence to oust ya and you don’t seem the type to risk so much of your hard won influence on a whim like this lizardshit is. So what the kark is it?” I ask, finally turning towards her.

  “The Tarkins are gaining influence rapidly. They are the most vocal and have the ear of the Chancellor. I am hoping that we can stifle their influence and ensure our position long term.”

  “So we’re the fuckin’ reactionaries?” I ask incredulously.

  “We’re the people trying to stop the Tarkins from implementing their questionable doctrines while upholding the ideals of the Republic, we’re the centrists to Tarkin’s mix of reactionaries and radicals.”

  I let out a deep heartfelt sigh as I return to face the strategic display: “So, you wish me to at least temporarily seize Dellalt. Do you also want me to use any particular tactic?”

  “Not particularly. Though I assure you the ships I am sending you are not critical to the defense of Coruscant.” She says, implying exactly what I thought she was. I let out another sigh, I could probably ensure the ships she sends me go to a dangerous part of the battle.

  “So, after I secure Dellalt, at least for a time, I am to conduct operations within the north Triellus Trade Route?” I ask, shifting the topic slightly.

  “Exactly. Securing everything south of Sy Myrth along the hyperspace lane is vital. Securing Sy Myrth itself would simply be a bonus.” She explains.

  “I shall do my very best, mam.” I say.

  “I expect nothing less.” She says, before her hologram goes out.

  I sigh defeatedly before speaking to an almost empty room: “Well R4, looks like we’re fucked.”