The fight with the Red Castle had been closer than I would’ve liked. The crew looked shook up about it and here I was leading them back into another part of the battle. I take a deep breath and school my face. Now was not the time to loose myself. The enemy had lost their commanding officer. If we’re lucky we might be able to force a couple more isolated fools surrender.

  “Sitrep of the north.” I request.

  “Commodore Strom has split the units, half are pursuing a group of enemy cruisers north of the wreckage of the Red Castle. The other half is trying to reconnect with the original line, but are being kept back by a group of destroyers and their escorts.”

  “Inform the Commodore his ships are to go no further east than the wreckage of the Red Castle. I don’t want them to be out of reach for a quick response. We should be able to force the enemy in our center to break with this encirclement.” I order.

  “Sir, I hate to remind you, but droids don’t break.” Mi-Kus objects.

  “This is a planetary defense force. I’d be surprised if more than a quarter of their sailors were droids.” I retort. They’d break, because if they didn’t they’d die in the void.

  “Senior Captain Sicato reports the speartip’s first line is almost in max firing range.” One of the comms officers reports.

  “They are to wait until they have entered efficient firing range. Move our line down a hundred meters and prepare all batteries for long range fire.” I order.

  “Heading down.” The Helmsman reports.

  “Load a salvo of concussions and get me a lock on that Recusant heavy destroyer.” Mi-Kus orders, then as if he had almost forgotten he adds to his order, “And return fire rate to standard use.”

  “Shields are back.”

  “I’ve got a high priority comms intercept, sir.” A comms Ensign pipes up.

  “Unscramble it, then get back to me.” I order.

  “First line has unleashed primary volley.” Lieutenant Hrusk reports.

  A few seconds pass as a mixture of turbolaser fire and missiles race towards the rear of the Separatist formation. They’ve finally been properly boxed in by the reserve units, the center line units and our rapidly approaching speartip formation. I can barely make out the multiple explosions bracketing the engine blocks and rear hulls of the Separatist warships.

  “Hit rate?” I ask.

  “About 60%, sir.”

  “Definitely need to run gunnery drills.” I mutter.

  “Second line in range, sir.”

  “Fire.” I order calmly. Another salvo of missiles and standard ordnance races towards the rears of the enemy vessels.

  “Sir, I’ve got the comms intercept unscrambled. It appears to be a message between a Commander Optrix and a General Well.”

  “And?” I ask.

  “The General has informed the Commander of his intent to retreat. The Commander has promised to sell themselves dearly in return.”

  I blink in mild confusion. I would never do something like this. Whenever I’ve retreated it had been an organized thing, with as many of my men going before me as possible. I feel anger on behalf of the unlucky Commander’s behalf. Yet despite my feelings I school myself again. Now was not the time to let pity and indignation cloud my judgment.

  “Commodore Strom is to take command of Unit Archduke alongside his unit to attack the enemy forces to our east. He is to damage them as much as possible while we mop up the remnants of the enemy in the west. Sitrep on our ground invasion.” I bark out.

  “General Krugwolt’s men have seized the first drydock and have begun movements to seize the second one.” Lieutenant Slas reports before leaning into her headset. A moment later she continues, “General Kota has just secured his beachhead on his second targeted drydock and Colonel Olpix has reported the start of the amphibious attack on the fifth drydock, sir.”

  “Move two squadrons of bombers and a squadron of escort fighters into reserve for rapid response air to ground support.” I order as another volley of turbolasers emerge from the front line to soar towards the Separatist rear and smash once more into their backs.

  “Sir, we still could use them to pursue the enemy in the east, never mind wiping up the remnants in our center.” Mi-Kus advises.

  I hum in consideration before nodding slowly: “Addend the order, keep whatever bombers and fighters currently in for repairs and rearming to get the numbers I just requested. They are permitted to return to their squadrons after new ships have come in for repairs and rearming. Sorry Lieutenant Slas, but this will mean more comms chatter.”

  “Sergeant Hamton can oversee it, sir.” The Lieutenant says, taping her next in command for the duty.

  I nod in affirmation. Hamton was not a poor choice, the young Human woman gaining a determined look in her eyes as she speaks up: “I’ll get to it now, sir.”

  “Good, I’m sure you’ll do well. Welder, keep an eye out for Cronau radiation. Last thing I want is to have some Sep railgower show up to ruin the our inevitable victory.”

  “Being actively monitored, sir.” The sensors officer answers easily.

  “Sir, power fluctuations detected near the front of the Recusant heavy destroyer dead ahead.” I hear a sensors officer quietly inform Welder.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  “Speak up, soldier. Things like that need to be barked at me!” I admonish the young man for.

  “Sorry, sir!” The young man yelps, “I’ve detected power fluctuations at the front of the Recusant heavy destroyer at the center of the enemy formation, but my -”

  “Now’s not the time for excuses. Trust your training.” Welder admonishes lightly.

  Just then the front half of the heavy destroyer lights up in flames. The explosion throwing the remnants of the bridge and prow towards the Arkania. I frown as the tactical display shows the ship taking a couple bad hits onto her hangar bay doors. Looks like a major battery storage detonated. Bad luck that.

  “Sir, I’ve got an enemy ship hailing us.” Lieutenant Slas reports.

  “Put ‘em through.” I order, my gaze shifting back to the tactical display as it shifts to reveal the face of a Quarren. Their tentacles shift in anxiety driven movements, their uniform, apparently shared between the Merchant Fleet and the Free Dac forces, noting the Quarren as a Captain.

  “Well?” I ask.

  “I-I am Captain Ulstix of the Pammant defense vessel Umber Moon. I wish to surrender on behalf of the remaining Free Dac vessels west of Pammant.” The Quarren male answers.

  “Power down your weapons, shields and engines. Lieutenant Slas, all ships are to hold fire unless fired upon.” I turn back to the Quarren, “Be glad I am no senseless butcher. However be aware, only one wrong move and I’ll burn what’s left of your forces to ash. My troops will be landing within your ships within the hour. I expect your men to have laid down their arms.”

  “As you request, sir.” The Quarren replies, his head bowed low.

  The holotransmission cuts out, replaced once more by the tactical display. A moment later the shields on the Separatist warships go down and the remnants of their droid fighters go inert. I nod in return as their engines go out.

  “Captain Chain?” I ask.

  The Clone Captain steps forwards from his position at the entrance to the bridge: “Yes, sir.”

  “I am placing you in command of securing the surrendered ships. Take as many men as practical, you have my authority to conscript any arms-men you will need. I trust you to make this quick and for there to be no deaths on any side.”

  “As you command, sir.” Chain replies, placing his helmet onto his head as he marches off to gather his men.

  “Alright, move Unit Constellation to Commodore Strom’s position alongside whatever we have here that won’t be needed for the cleanup.” I order.

  “As you command, sir.” I hear in reply.

  “Helmsman, bring us to the wreckage of the Red Castle. Detach two Consulars for escort. Divert as many fighters and bombers as we can spare from LAAT escort to make a run for the enemy fleeing from us. On the double, gentlebeings!” I bark.

  The bridge breaks back into a furry of movements and quickly spoken orders. The ship begins to come about, once again facing the wreckage of the Red Castle, her escorts and over a dozen wrecks of Republic and Mon Cala ships of varying sizes. I frown as I look at the beast. I was still slightly surprised we has survived fighting her. If it wasn’t for the positioning of the Wave, we probably would’ve shared their fate. Instead the abandoned hulk of the Wave’s damaged structure took our place. Maker keep me, I can’t bare to think of the casualty rate.

  “Sir, enemy ships have begun to enter hyperspace.” Lieutenant Welder reports.

  I start feeling the rage return, the karking bastard. The cowardly Hurensohn. The railgowing waste of water, “the lizardfuckin’, asskissin’, shiteatin’, coward!”

  I realize all of a sudden that my cursing had all come out. I sigh as slowly run my hand along my face. That bastard was riling me up without actually trying. I watch as another Captor makes a jump out of system, followed by a Recusant light destroyer and a handful of MC30c frigates.

  “The Buckler has successfully knocked out the engines on one of the Captors, sir.” I hear one of the Ensigns report. Faxe was getting a bit too eager it seems. Never mind, despite his position, a picket ship had to act as a picket, no matter the position held by their Captain. My eyes are glued to the strategic display as the last Separatist ships jump from system, another couple MC30cs, another Recusant light destroyer and two other Captors abandoning the world the had been sworn to protect.

  I feel a sigh leave me. I didn’t feel like celebrating. Maker on high this battle didn’t feel like a victory, more of a bar-brawl where I ended up as the last one standing. I readjust my officers cap as I quickly process what still needs to be done. A moment of silent contemplation later I start barking orders.

  “I want those captured Sep ships in a line with scuttling charges placed on their hyperdrives and engine blocks. I want to begin system patrols. Grab two Arquitenses and a handful of corvettes to secure the civilian ships at that gas giant we ordered them to. Move two Acclamators over the shipyards. Begin consolidating the remaining ships into capable units and begin salvage operations on our and the enemy’s ships. Finally, someone inform the Generals and whoever is currently in command of the aquatic volunteers of our victory.” I finish.

  “Sir, I’ve got a transmission from Captain Chain,” Lieutenant Slas reports, “He reports a bit of difficulty in suppressing the captured ship’s crews. No casualties yet, but stun shots have been fired.”

  “Double the arms-men detachments securing the captured vessels asap.” I order in turn.

  “Should we adjust the ground support detachment?” Mi-Kus asks.

  “Yes, quite right.” I mutter, “Sergeant, we will simply detach three squadrons of bombers and two squadrons of fighters for ground support.”

  Lieutenant Slas speaks up then: “Speaking of, General Krugwolt requests a level three bombing run on a hostile low atmospheric anti-orbital turbolaser battery. They’ve knocked out the anti-air in the area, but the thing’s sitting on a bunker complex they’re having trouble with.”

  “Well, then. I have no reason to deny the good man. Send him his bombers, don’t forget their escorts.” I order in return, “Get started on the casualty lists.”

  Soon enough the first datapad gets pushed into my hand. Followed by another, then another. As the battle raged below and the captured ships were impounded I stood still, quietly reading through the casualty reports of the taskforce. Soon enough an hour had passed with no further requests from below, until-

  “Sir, General Kota is requesting an orbital bombardment of the enemy’s final installation.”

  I frown as I hand the datapad of Unit Riptide over to Mi-Kus. I waltz over to the Ensign’s post and grab the spare headset: “Repeat that General Kota?”

  “Rear Admiral. We’ve pushed the enemy into a final bunker complex. We’ve knocked out the local anti orbital battery, but their shields are still up. I believe a sustained orbital bombardment should force them to either surrender or burn through their energy supply.” The General responds.

  I pause a moment. If their generator was good enough the bombardment would do little good. Not to mention it could very well cause heavy damage to the infrastructure below. Infrastructure I needed whole to ensure further ship production.

  Finally I answer the request: “I’m willing to conduct an hour long bombardment of the given installation by the ships Archduke, Little Star, Dac’s Guard, Little Spark and Nail. If the shields are not close to failure in that time-frame I am afraid there will be little else we can do from orbit.”

  I’m pretty sure my battlegroup’s resident Acclamator carriers, the Little Star and the Archduke should be able to deal with a shield worth disabling from orbit, if not then I’d be putting their crews on drills for a month straight and damn the expense. I hear distant blaster fire through the headset before I get an answer in return: “Fine, just start firing in ten, I’m pulling my men out of the way now.”

  “By your mark.” I answer before removing the headset, “Lieutenant, pass my orders along. Ensign, keep an ear open to General Kota’s mark.”

  I get handed another datapad as I return my gaze to the strategic display. The final casualty rate for Navy and allied units. Well final as long as no fighters get shot down during any ground support missions. I look over the list quietly tallying the sums together until I see the final number confirming my fear. Eleven thousand two hundred and six dead, seven thousand fifty three wounded. Maker keep me. I feel relief, it wasn’t as high as Dac. The feeling of relief is overshadowed by disgust. Eleven thousand two hundred and six souls now separated from their worldly lives.

  “Too high.” I mutter, I could have done better. Conducted long range duels and deploy mines to ensure any enemy assault would do just enough damage for them to risk it. I sigh, not like something like that would have been possible, let alone practical. It seems every number, every person lost to the void, was too high.

  “Keep moving.” I mutter quietly to myself.

  “Ships in position and I have General Kota’s mark, sir.” The comms Ensign reports.

  “Well then, inform Captain Pelgate and their counterparts they are to begin firing at will.” I advise.

  About ten seconds later the first arcs of blue turbolaser fire soar towards the surface. They burn through the atmosphere to smash into the artificial island below. It sickens me. Ever since Targonn I’ve been unnerved by watching turbolasers smash into the surface of a world below. At least this time there are no civilians close to the area being affected. I’m not sure if I could’ve stomached it otherwise.

  I shake my head and move over to a different station, one where I don’t have to watch this. I busy myself with minor work as the bombardment continues. The civilian ships are eventually let go, not like I had much of a reason to hold any of them. Simply unlucky merchants and trade-ship Captains in the wrong place at the wrong time. Once the last ship makes their jump I order my ships start mining the small hyperspace egress point that leads vaguely towards Mintooine. The hyperspace route was barely usable for more than two cruisers at a time, but it’s only paranoia if nobody is out to get you.

  I also set up a group of patrolling corvettes and Arquitenses. They move quite simply from jump point to jump point, stopping within the safety of the larger formation for a few minutes after every rotation of their patrol. I glance back over to the chrono to check how much longer the bombardment will take. Thank the Maker it’ll be done in a few minutes.

  Blessedly the bombardment ends. The shields are still up, not even close to failing, which only means one thing. General Kota will have to conduct a ground assault. An assault without any repulser tank support. That would make this assault especially hard for the Militia Kota had gathered. Except for a handful of AT-RT walkers his only armored support was a platoon’s worth of TX-130 Saber repulser tanks. In comparison General Krugwolt’s Volunteer Corps had a variety of walkers in use, though for this mission they had divided them equally for the two platforms they had been expected to seize.

  I shake my head, I did not envy General Kota. I should have pressed him harder to get support for the assault on the primary dry-dock. Too late now, with all ground forces committed or recuperating the Jedi would have to make do. I might be able to send down some arms-men, but I needed them alongside my Clone companies Hope and Endurance to ensure the captured docks and ships stay captured and don’t somehow explode on me.

  Maker keep me, I hate this.