I take a drag from my whiskey glass while pointedly ignoring Fleet Admiral Honor’s glare. It was nice to have my recently liberated liquor cabinet back where it belongs. My personal squadron was still stationed over Cophrigin as the repairs continued and I was taking advantage of it. By day I was doing paperwork, affirming promised promotions and overseeing the repairs and repositioning of ships while by night I was either sleeping like the dead or trying to forget the last weeks.

  “So in other words, the Jedi found a scapegoat and thrown them at Tarkin.” I say. I felt bad for Skywalker’s apprentice. She seemed nice enough when I’d met her, decent card-gator too.

  “Pretty much. Tarkin has been slamming her reputation in the press rather intensely and demanded her execution for treason while he’s at it.” The Fleet Admiral says.

  “Damn.” I mutter, “Are we fighting it?”

  “Of course we are.” Honor says, seemingly insulted at the thought, “She’s a minor by her species’ aging cycle and the evidence is spotty at best.”

  “Never mind Tarkin’s camp investing so much into it. We might as well throw a wrench or two into their plans.” I finish the possible thought process, “Anyone interesting we’ve managed to snag in all of this?”

  “A handful of Jedi are leaning towards our camp now. General Plo Koon has gone as far as to silently support us when it comes to most strategic decisions. We also snagged a couple more bleeding hearts in the administrative wing of the GAR and Navy. Though I think you’ll find it intriguing that Senator Amidala has taken up the case for the accused.” Honor informs.

  “Damn.” I reply impressed. Amidala was probably one of the most influential Senators alive. She was a shoe in for the Chancellorship sooner or later. So either she had a personal stake in this, perhaps through her friendship with Skywalker and Kenobi, or she thought this would do well for her politically. Maybe even both.

  “Damn indeed, Dericote.” The Fleet Admiral teases.

  “Well then. I suggest we keep the pressure and stay the course.” I propose.

  “My thoughts exactly.” She replies with a cold grin.

  “Want me to write up a character witness testimonial?” I ask.

  “You might as well. Though you should probably avoid any mention of you teaching her how to gamble. I know it is different in the Mid and Outer Rim, but most of the Core usually looks down on such … activities.” Honor replies.

  “I’ll have you note, that Fondor is in the Core.” I snipe back with a smile.

  “Thus my use of most, in regards to the Core.” Honor replies evenly, though I can easily detect her lips curling up slightly in a smile of her own.

  “Anything else of note?” I ask curiously.

  “Foerost fell the other day, though a few ships managed to flee into the Deep Core during the chaos. I believe that only leaves the Neimoidian purse worlds as possible Separatist strongholds within the Core.” I hum appreciatively. Maybe the war would be over soon, yet as the Fleet Admiral continues, I feel my thoughts of relief morph into something more agitated, “And yet with Trench approaching Anaxes morale is rather low within the Senate, the temple bombing certainly didn’t help. I’ve caught wind of more than a handful of Senators and officers quietly grumbling over the cost of the war.”

  “They’re not considering surrender, are they?” I ask.

  “If Trench seizes Anaxes it may suddenly become Republic policy to begin new negotiations with the Separatist Senate while they still can.”

  “Even if Trench manages to break Anaxes, and mind you that is a considerable if, he would never manage to seize Alsakan or Coruscant. Sure he might be able to starve them into submission, but the Core wouldn’t stand for it. Whenever the Core was threatened to such an extent, even the oldest and most bitter of rivals would set aside their differences to push the enemy out.” I object.

  “Yet you forget almost every world has a Separatist party, these aren’t the Sith or Mandalorians of old, these are the Separatists. They aren’t some grand evil the Core will be willing to rally against.”

  “I know that ma’am.” I reply, “And yet … I can’t imagine the Republic surrendering.”

  “I won’t allow it to.” Fleet Admiral Honor says, her tone not allowing anything other than agreement, “Even if I have to string up the Joint Chiefs to do so.”

  “You can trust I will stand behind you in such a case. My command is loyal to the Republic and I believe almost every soul alive within it is willing to fight to uphold it.” I say in agreement.

  “You don’t have to butter me up like you do Therbon. I will not demand you take up the torch of defiance. We do still serve the will of the Senate.” Honor admonishes lightly as I roll my eyes.

  “Of course ma’am. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind the next time the Senate decreases my budget.” I reply.

  “You know this war is expensive. The Republic has been running quite a deficit.”

  “Yes, ma’am I am aware and I know there isn’t that great of a solution for it right now either.” I reply. Though my understanding didn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed at it. There were only so many times I could buy a warship with government bonds before the producer either went bankrupt due to the bonds’ continued downward trend in value, or started resisting.

  “Enough of the dreariness. I hear you survived your first official press conference.” My superior teases.

  “Yes ma’am. It was quite the horror.” I reply in deadpan.

  “You’ll get used to them. Especially when things wind down. You’ll probably end up with a couple reporters and journalists hounding your tail so they can write a book on your experiences.”

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  “Too bad I’m beating them to the punch.” I reply snidely, “Been keeping my journal alongside my usual reports. I’ll just chuck it at their heads and let the vultures scramble for scraps.”

  “Now that is an idea. I should do the same the next time one of the reporters badgers me about the Home Guard Fleet.”

  “As long as you cite me.”

  “An excellent idea. I’ll throw you under the speeder for instigating it.”

  “As you wish, ma’am.” I reply snidely as I finish my drink.

  Wildhog feels … concerned. Something Clover would probably tease him about, a three syllable word wasn’t normally in his vocab after all. And yet, it was about right for how he felt. The General was on the warpath and Coruscant wasn’t a place to do that without friends. They were lucky in a way, having been assigned to the same LAAT as the General and Rex as they raced after Commander Tano.

  Wildhog double checks his DC-15 and wishes he had been allowed to bring along his rotary. Sure it’d be useless, but that’s why he wanted it. He still couldn’t believe the Commander would bomb her home. Unless it was an accident, Force knows he’s blown up his barracks a few times, though he hasn’t decided if getting yelled at by Chain was worse than Rex simply looking disappointingly at him. Probably didn’t help that he and Hardcase bounced off of one another with their shared love of IEDs.

  “THERE SHE IS!” Jesse shouts over the wind.

  “Cut her off up ahead.” The General orders and the LAAT rushes ahead of the running Padawan.

  “I can’t do this.” Wildhog hears Clover mutter.

  “Come on brother.” Wildhog nudges Clover as his brother mutters on in quiet despondence.

  The LAAT hovers ahead of the still charging Padawan as Skywalker jumps down: “Come on Snips. We can clear this up!”

  “I won’t let you take me!” The kid responds before jumping off the side of the pipes and into the depths of the industrial park.

  “Fuck.” Clover sighs in choked relief.

  “We’ll need to organize patrols to find the Commander.” Rex orders quickly. Always on task that one, Wildhog thinks.

  “Come on Clover, we’ll probably end up leading a squad.” Wildhog nudges his brother along, the demolitions expert was starting to worry for his sibling.

  Senator Dededod was watching the proceedings closely from his position on the Senatorial jury. This was a mockery of justice. A child, not even old enough to stay out beyond curfew, being treated as a traitor. For the Rivers’ flow, Tarkin was angling for the death penalty, the death penalty! She wasn’t some warcriminal or a Sith Lord of old, she was a child!

  “-In conclusion the evidence is circumstantial at best. Any Force wielder could have killed the actual terrorist responsible. This is simply a farce of justice and on a personal note, the prosecution should be ashamed of themselves for how they have treated the defendant and this entire court!” Senator Amidala finishes. Though the accused may currently be in absentia, the proceedings trundle on.

  Dededod stands and joins in the applause from various Senators present. She focused too much on the emotional aspect for his personal liking, but she was correct. The evidence was shaky and Tarkin was plowing through it and focusing this trial into another dagger aimed at the Jedi’s military incompetence. The issues between the Republic’s officers and the Jedi seemed to be growing by the day after they became fully public over Carida.

  “I think we’ll table the arguments and the court session for today.” Mas Amedda says, the Vice Chair having taken over proceedings for the Chancellor while the accused wasn’t present.

  The Senator of Abregado-rae moves out of the jury box at a slightly more swift pace than is usually polite. He has a meeting with a major merchant fleet from his sector after all. Dededod lets out a small sigh, this war was playing havoc with Abregado-rae’s trade economy. Suddenly all the wonderfully hidden smugglers routes through parts of the deep core were locked down and half of her usual trading partners were on the other side of a conflict strewn boarder. Such a pain.

  The Gados almost bumps into the woman in front of him, so occupied was his mind with matters of economics: “Sorry, miss.”

  “Oh, no I must apologize Senator Bic.” The woman in an ornate headdress replies. Ah, Amidala. This would either be enlightening or a waste of time, the Gados thinks.

  “Well either way, I will try and be more mindful in the future.”

  “As will I.” The Senator from Naboo replies, “Though while I have you, can I badger you for your thoughts on the proceedings?”

  “You sound awfully like a reporter there.” Dededod teases before schooling his features, “It is a pity. Tarkin is being far too harsh with his demands, though you have done a marvelous job so far despite the … questionable situation within the court.”

  “I am glad you agree, I wish more of our colleagues on the bench did.” Senator Amidala says.

  “You will convince them in time, of that I am certain.”

  “And yet time is the one resource not on our side.” The human woman laments.

  “She is still on the run. It may not be a particularly good look for her, but her Master’s dogged search for both her and the true culprit is doing … something I am certain. Not to mention the character witnesses from the Admiralty and her associates at the Temple.” Dededod tries to console.

  “I wish it didn’t come to this. Ahsoka is clearly innocent, but everything’s just spiraled out of control.”

  “As do I. Now, if you would excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to.”

  “Please, don’t let me hold you up, Senator Bic.”

  The Gados gives her an understanding smile as he gives a short bow: “Then I shall bid you farewell and ask that in the future you call me Dededod.”

  “Then I shall insist on Padmé.” The Naboo replies.

  “Then farewell, Padmé.” The Gados says before making his way.

  I sit comfortably at my desk as I fiddle with my prosthetic. Some of my modifications I had done required a bit of maintenance and the thing needed a good cleaning anyway. I click a small switch and the vibroknife emerges which I place to the side as I continue maintenance. It was weird not to have to fish sand out of the crevices, though I suppose once I return home that’ll become normal. Another switch and the holdout blaster pops out slightly and I carefully remove the weapon. That would need a cleaning too.

  R4 gives a whistle asking if I wanted any help. I consider it a moment before shaking my head. Maybe if we had something scheduled today other than a couple minor meetings. Instead I whistle a quick request and with a sigh, R4 starts playing a little marching tune from back home. A few more days and my battlegroup will be returning to Mon Cala in full while Sykes’s 382nd Battlegroup takes up vigil at Astigone, to act as reinforcements against any Sep attack against our new front line.

  Commodore Jim’s squadron has been moved from his usual home of the Jubilar Sector to the new border along the northern Triellus Trade route while Commodore Abelard has been ordered to take up the defense at Wyndigal. Tapal has been ordered alongside his errant Padawan to reinforce the siege at Dellalt, so that venue of approach would be safe once they head out in a couple days. It left only Wyndigal and Pakuuni as avenues for a major Sep incursion and I didn’t have the forces to defend them properly without splitting the two battlegroups of my command.

  I frown as I think it over as I continue to clean. I suppose I should figure out who I’d send. Though it really was a forgone conclusion which of my squadrons I could detach. My 97th Outer Rim was my personal squadron, my elite and where all of my usual staff officers were. Meanwhile the 401st Rapid Response Squadron couldn’t truthfully be used as a defensive unit. Only three Acclamators, the only proper ships of the line in the entire formation to be honest, and five armed Pelta frigates. It might do for the garrison over a world such as Jabiim once the campaign on her surface was finished, but taking them would undoubtedly strip the squadron’s defenders and probably get me in a fight with Commodore Hugh about proper convoy escorts.

  So it would be my 111th Colonies Cruiser Squadron that would garrison and protect Pakuuni from any Sep incursions. If I was called away it would cause problems, but I was quietly hoping the 120th could act as a reserve until I got another month or two of wartime ship production. That way I’d have enough proper ships of the line to establish a proper squadron sized garrison at Pakuuni and Handooine and also perhaps even finagle a third battle squadron for my 120th.

  So who would defend Handooine? It couldn’t be Sykes’s personal 100th Mid Rim Squadron for the same reason my 97th Outer Rim couldn’t be deployed. The 300th Core Squadron was a bit heavy, consisting of Sykes’s CD-710, the Corellian Comet, and six Dreadnoughts, but the alternative, Sykes’s 31st Colonies Cruiser Squadron, had about half her forces deployed over Jabiim to assist in the siege. I frown as I admit to myself that I would have to deploy the 300th Core to defend Handooine. I wasn’t happy about it, but it would have to do.

  A knock on the door interrupts my combined thought and scrubbing. I place down the brush as R4 cuts the music. I quick press of a button reveals Mi-Kus coming into the room with a datapad. I return to the cleaning as he places it in front of me and stands at attention. I finish with the scrubbing and start wiping away the residue.

  Finally I speak: “And?”

  “Former Jedi and Commander Tano was apprehended and brought to trial.”

  “Hm.” I grunt as I turn to the datapad and start skimming, “She dead then?”

  “Nosir. She was acquitted on account of the actual perpetrator confessing.”

  I raise an eyebrow in surprise: “They do that willingly?”

  “Nosir, she was apprehended by General Skywalker.”

  “Knight Offee?” I ask, having gotten to that part of the report.

  “Yessir. New trial will be starting shortly, but most of the heat’s died down. Tarkin’s been embarrassed and I believe you’ll be getting your next call with Fleet Admiral Honor early.”

  “You know, you’d make a pretty good secretary.” I say absentmindedly as I finish skimming the report and placing it to the side.

  “That’s the nice part of being Adjutant Captain, sir. I get to do three jobs at once.”

  “Those being?” I ask rhetorically. He’s made the joke before at a dinner after his promotion.

  “Captain, secretary and babysitter in one, sir.”

  I let a small smile slip. It wasn’t a good joke, Maker take me it’s been used since forever, but that didn’t mean I didn’t see the fun in it. I look back up at my Adjutant Captain as I speak: “Well I suppose that’s that then. You may return to your usual duties. Though, do inform Commodore Miller that his squadron will be heading the defense of Pakuuni until a time where we can establish a squadron to relieve him. I’ll inform Rear Admiral Sykes his battlegroup will be detaching his 300th Core Squadron to defend Handooine myself.”

  “As you command, sir. I’ll let you get back to cleaning.”

  “You do that. Dismissed.” I order as the man snaps a quick salute and leaves, the door closing behind him promptly. Tarkin just had some of the worst luck, didn’t he. I chuckle as I start cleaning the weapons usually embedded into my arm, I’ll leave the polish for last.