I glance over the datapad as almost a hundred tugs and bomber sized repair ships buzz about the current formation. The emergency repairs wouldn’t hold up to anything heavier than a lasercannon, but they were desperately needed for the upcoming battle I knew Altratonne would bare witness to.

  We’d lost too many ships for Altratonne to be the decisive battle. We’ll likely make brake for Wyndigal, Byss and Astigone once we’ve given the Seps a bloody nose. I’ve already lost a Venator and seven Dreadnoughts at Handooine, not to mention the seventeen Acclamators of both stripes, nine Arquitenses, sixteen Pelta frigates, both armed and unarmed, one of the two Centax frigates and forty one corvettes. High casualties and too many escape pods were left in system, abandoned to either be picked off by Hatha’s ships or land on Handooine’s stony surface.

  It made counting casualties hard. In the end, I decided I would only look at the casualty list once Hatha was defeated. It would hurt more, but now was not the time for it. It certainly didn’t help that I was resorting to desperate tactics already. Once Faxe’s and Hugh’s battered ships had entered system, I had activated my trap. The hyperspace egress point to Handooine was mined to all nine hells and back.

  I look throughout the formation. Maker, Sykes better not screw this up. I had ordered a detachment under his command to Wyndigal. Mainly to ensure any Sep forces in that system remained there and didn’t come to bite us in the ass while we were busy fighting Hatha.

  The removal of another four Venators, four Dreadnoughts, ten Acclamators, three Arquitenses, some fourteen Peltas, of which only four were armed for combat, and twenty two corvettes would be painful for my remaining forces at Altratonne. Painful, but hopefully not disastrous.

  Thus, again, the mines. I had used up every single one of my remaining stock of mines, alongside multiple spare munitions for increased explosive power. All in all, there was probably enough raw explosive potential to destroy an entire battlegroup. Now the only, nail-biting, anxiety inducing questions were, would it be enough and was the minefield dispersed enough as to not trigger the emergency hyperspace exit procedures.

  “We’re detecting Cronau radiation, sir.” Lieutenant Welder reports.

  “Do we have an estimate?” I ask.

  “Based off of the damage dealt last time, I’d say the enemy’s got some hundred seventy ships of the line, give or take ten, can’t give you a number on their escorts.” Welder replies.

  “Almost four to one odds.” Mi-Kus mutters in horror.

  “Better we face it than an innocent world. Lieutenant Slas, get me a taskforce wide broadcast asap.” I order. I had to remain calm. The enemy would fall for my trap, this was the only opportunity where Hatha would allow it to work. He won’t fall for it a second time.

  “We’re ready, sir.” Lieutenant Slas reports.

  “Begin fleet wide transmission.” I order, a moment later I get a thumbs up from my Mon Calamari comms chief and I begin, “Sailors, soldiers, pilots, engineers and officers of the Republic. These are odds we’ve never faced before. Maybe on a strategic scale, but never in a single engagement. There in front of us is our foe. They outnumber us four to one in the number of ships of the line. They will not keep this advantage for long. The trap is set, all it needs is to be sprung. We may not have our decisive victory over Altratonne, but it will be the first step to defeat the Separatists in detail. Hold firm to your posts, remember your training and long live the Republic. Admiral Dericote, Marshal Administrator of the North West Slice Command and proud citizen of the Republic, signing off.”

  “First enemy ships exiting hyperspace.” Lieutenant Welder reports calmly.

  I wait, as one by one, more and more Separatist warships exit hyperspace just within the frayed outer portion of the minefield. Then, a ship overshoots, it’s one of the Fantail destroyers the Sy Myrthians had sent to dislodge my men at Handooine. It ends up almost entirely surrounded my mines and an attempt to adjust their position triggers one of the seeker mines dispersed throughout the field.

  As more and more Separatist warships enter the system, both within the frayed edge of the minefield and closer to its center an explosion begins spreading. A chain reaction of purpose built mines and primed munitions charges. Seekers bursting through flames and shrapnel to seek out the targeted ships as Munificents break and trigger more mines. It was beautiful, it was disgusting, it was terrifying and a relief.

  “Behold,” I say, gesturing forwards for dramatic effect as thousands of sailors, both droid and sentient are murdered in cold blood, “The dangers of an overeager opponent.”

  After countless explosions barraged the enemy ships for minutes on end, the enemy force finally appears to have sorted itself out. I suppress a smile imagining the face of the Sep commanders when they realize they’ve only triggered two thirds of the minefield, a well placed and organized gap ensuring the explosive force would, at most, push the mines in the final third closer together.

  “Sensors are starting to pick up signatures. Stars above.” I hear a sensors officer exclaim.

  “The frayed edges seemed surprisingly effective.” Mi-Kus mutters.

  “They were specifically designed so they wouldn’t trigger the emergency hyperspace exit procedures. I’m surprised Hatha allowed this level of … aggression in his formation.” I reply.

  “Sir, I think I may have an explanation.” An Adjutant interrupts.

  “And?” I ask.

  “The Fantail that … caused the first detonation was the Titanium Goliath, the flagship of Rear Admiral Sulumor of the Sy Myrthian defense force. We just collaborated its emergency beacon codes with the alleged Titanium Goliath sighting from Commodore Hugh when she exited Handooine.” The man says.

  “So he lead his Sy Myrthians in the vanguard and Hatha allowed it.” I mutter. The poor fuck was probably dead now.

  “Finally have a ship count, sir.” Lieutenant Welder reports.

  “Let me hear it.” I order calmly.

  “Four Providence class battleships, including Rear Admiral Hatha’s Warprofiteer,-”

  “Too bad the mines didn’t get him.” An Adjutant mutters.

  “-three Recusant heavies, five Recusant lights, a sole remaining Fantail destroyer, six Dreadnought heavy cruisers, fifty five Munificents, six Munifexes, forty two Captor cruiser/carriers, seven Lupus missile frigates and approximately eight Gozantis.” My sensors officer reports.

  “Did the mines do that much damage?” I ask.

  “Sir, the mines knocked out some fifty two ships of the line. The list I just gave you was of the ships the enemy can muster, without the need of intense repairs.” The Lieutenant explains, “Honestly I don’t think most of the disabled enemy ships could be salvaged within less than a month, even if you exclude travel time. Might as well just use them as spare parts for new ships or scrap them.”

  “Stars.” I hear Mi-Kus mutter.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “All ships, load missiles and prepare heavy turbolasers. Launch hyperspace capable fighters. Do all ships have their mission packets for the retreat?” I finally ask.

  “Yes, sir. Though I still wonder about placing Senior Captain Sicato in charge of the 111th Colonies Cruisers when Commodore Miller is perfectly available.” Lieutenant Hursk answers. Good, that was a bit of an unusual order after all.

  “It is because Luis will be less aggressive in comparison to a purely Fondorian trained officer.” I answer.

  “Looks like the enemy is reorganizing. We might have knocked our a couple flag officers with the mines too.” An Adjutant reports their suspicions.

  “If you can confirm that, do so.” Mi-Kus orders.

  “The enemy will be overly cautious with the secondary minefield.” I mutter to myself, “They can go above, below, starboard or portside. We cannot afford to loose our current position. If the enemy goes to outflank we’ll be in a difficult position. Probably have to abandon the system prematurely in that case.”

  “Should we go ahead and abandon the system now then?” Mi-Kus asks curiously.

  “No, we definitely have more light ships and pickets than the enemy. Order Commodore Strom to lead an advance skirmishing force. He may choose whichever corvettes, light cruisers and frigates he wishes, but limit his number to twenty five in total.” I order.

  “As you command, sir.” A comms officer says, before muttering my orders along.

  “Looks like the Seps have organized a line.” A sensors officer reports, “Fifteen Munificents, six Dreadnought heavy cruisers, two Recusant heavies anchoring the line and a handful of pickets and … a second line of Captors, Munificents with the third Recusant heavy in center.”

  “Typical for a line battle.” I mutter, “What direction does the enemy formation appear to be heading?” I ask.

  “Galactic north. Our starboard. They appear to be trying to heard us away from Byss and Wyndigal.” An Adjutant reports.

  “Have our starboard flank adjust their positioning to allow for better arcs of missile fire.” I order.

  “Strikecraft ready and waiting, sir.” A comms officer reports.

  “Hold them steady. They’ll be used defensively this round.” I mutter in answer.

  “Enemy fighter swarm approaching. It’s a big one.” A voice says, a quick glance confirms it as a sensors officer. He’s new, must be a transfer from one of the escape pods we’d managed to snatch before abandoning Handooine.

  “Give the Admiral an estimate.” Lieutenant Welder advises the young sensors operator.

  “Maybe … looks like eighteen to twenty wings of strikecraft.” The Ensign reports.

  I frown as I nod in acknowledgment: “Bring Commodore Strom’s force back into formation now! Prepare fighters for interception and deploy hyperspace incapable fighters.”

  “We might not have the time to get those back aboard.” Mi-Kus warns.

  “Then they will have served their duty to the Republic. I would prefer to keep them for our final battle, but I have little choice in it now.” I reply coldly.

  “We could still deploy hyperspace rings to give them a chance.” An Adjutant pleads.

  I glance down at my left arm. I let out a hiss of air before speaking: “Very well. Go ahead and get our repair ships and tugs into our hangar bays once the fighters have been deployed while we’re at it.”

  “Yessir.” The Adjutant responds, mood seemingly improved.

  “Enemy fighters about five minutes away from maximum intercept point.” A sensors officer reports.

  “Commodore Strom’s force should make it just in the nick of time.” Lieutenant Hursk says.

  “Will the Commodore’s forces be out of the way for missile intercepts?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir. Looks like the Commodore planned to leave his formation open for us.”

  “Good. To all fighters on interception course. You have permission to lose your missiles whenever you wish.” I order.

  A few minutes pass, until: “Contact.”

  Swarms of fighters, both piloted by droids and sentients, a few dozen clicks out of maximum missile range, smash into one another. It turns into a chaotic melee of lasers and metal as formations break down into smaller and smaller detachments. Wings into squadrons into flights into sections as the melee develops. I watch it for a long handful of minutes. A hundred tragedies passing as seconds fly by.

  “We’re looking to win the fighter melee.” An Adjutant reports.

  “How much longer for the Seps to be in missile range of the melee?” I ask.

  “Five minutes tops.” Comes the answer.

  “Order fighters to begin pulling out of the melee. See if we can lead the droids towards us as they do.” I order. There would be more casualties this way, but it would ensure the enemy couldn’t turn any anti-fighter fragmentation missiles against us.

  “Fighters coming back piecemeal.”

  “Eta on the enemy’s line?” I request.

  “They’ll be in heavy turbolaser range about ten minutes after our last fighters return to close picket.”

  The enemy was herding us away from Byss and yet … I won’t win here no matter what: “Fuck it, fine. Contact Senior Captain Sicato and Commodore Miller. Detach the 111th and element Fondor’s Daughter alongside the extra light ships and pickets we planned for them. Orders Xi-Grain are in effect. Taskforce Detachment Sandstorm is active. The two of them have their orders. I want them out of system with Seps chomping at their heels now. They are not to come back until the enemy is either dead or retreating. Rest of the formation, adjust to face the enemy’s advance, tighten our line and prep the firing solutions to detonate the second field. I’ll be damned if I let that beaut of a minefield be used by my enemy!”

  “Change the missile load for anti-fighter frags then.” Mi-Kus orders the Little Revenge’s battery Adjutant.

  “Already on it, sir.” The gruff man replies.

  “Looks like the enemy’s first line and some … ten Captors are breaking off to pursue detachment Sandstorm.” Lieutenant Welder reports.

  “Maker keep us.” I mutter, “Prepare heavy turbolaser fire to target the enemy Recusant heavy on approach.”

  “Enemy forces continuing to rally. I’ve got a trio of Recusant lights making moves on the secondary minefield.” An Adjutant reports.

  “They in range?” I ask.

  “Might kill on or two of them, but they’ve started disassembling the field with their point defense and the Recusants’ tractor beams.” The Adjutant reports.

  “Damn it. Detonate the field.” I order It had at least slowed Hatha’s forces after the opening of the battle.

  “Detonating.” An Adjutant reports as he presses a button on his datapad.

  “Firing.” The battery Adjutant reports form the trench as both a salvo of anti-fighter fragmentation missiles and a handful of explosions within the minefield go off at the same time. The series of explosive chain reactions are a bit lesser than their predecessors, a lack of enemy ships buried in their midst made it harder for the fire and shrapnel to gather more fuel for themselves. Even so I suppress a smirk as I notice one of the enemy Recusants going dark.

  “Enemy line almost in range.” Welder reports.

  “All ships may fire when in range. Go ahead and pass along our per-activation commands of retreat for the datapackage we sent out. Activate plan Epsilon-Thorn, to be executed on my orders and not a second before.” I reply as I return my gaze to the approaching enemy formation.

  “Rest of the enemy’s ships are beginning their approach through our former minefields.” Lieutenant Hursk says.

  “We’ll be fucked four days to Denduday if they snag is between the two.” An Adjutant mutters.

  “Agreed sailor.” I reply.

  “Enemy line in range.”

  “Fire!” Mi-Kus barks.

  Missiles, blue heavy turbolasers and a few heavy ion cannon blasts race away from our ships towards the enemy line, the faster ordnance smashing against their shields and hulls before the Seps manage to return fire with their red heavy turbolaser fire. The shields on the enemy’s Recusant heavy go out from the focused bombardment as the concussion missiles smash against her bulkhead alongside the second salvo of republic long range ordnance.

  As the shields shudder under the enemy’s fire I glance back to the tactical display. Hatha’s remaining forces were approaching rapidly as Luis’ detachment finally make their first jump to Byss, the enemy line forming up to follow suit just as the last corvette leaves our plane of existence for its journey. The shields shudder again as the enemy’s heavy destroyer has another series of trenches and craters burned into it by turbolaser fire and missile detonations.

  “We need to pull back soon.” I mutter to myself.

  “Shields down to half.”

  Finally the enemy Recusant at the center of their line gets a bad hit and goes up in flames. Maker the Seps really should up-armor some of those weakpoints. The ship continues in its detonations as further ordnance smashes against her, though considerably less as more fire begins being spread throughout the formations of now slowly approaching Sep ships. They were right to approach slowly in all honesty. Sep ships had decent long range most of the time, a factor which had lead to increased missile capability of Republic cruisers as the war progressed. After all, not every formation had half a dozen Venators for long range duels.

  “All ships, pull back to hyperspace egress point Altratonne-Astigone Aurek-Prime.” I order as further enemy heavy turbolaser fire thuds against my shields.

  “Helmsman, hard starboard!” Mi-Kus barks.

  “Hard starboard.” The officer echoes.

  “Rotate missile battery.” Mi-Kus adds.

  “Rotating hard port, level.” The battery Adjutant replies.

  “Constellation has the rear?” I ask for confirmation of the former battle line turning into a facsimile of a queue, though with a slight tilt to the line.

  “Yessir.”

  “All ships have permission to jump piecemeal as long as they make for Astigone without unnecessary delay. First ship to arrive is to open emergency plan Astigone Delta-Niner, transmit the plan now, tightbeam. Helmsman, flank speed and get us abreast with the Constellation. Hail the Little Star, Lucky Kelp, Prince’s Duty and five corvettes of convenience to join us in the rearguard.” I order.

  “I’ve got both the Teardrop and Falchion already volunteering their services to the rearguard.” Lieutenant Slas reports.

  “A double ration of grog and the freshest rations for a month to the rearguard at Altratonne.” I offer.

  “Just got five more volunteers.” The Mon Calamari says as another heavy turbolaser smacks against our shields.

  “Take the rearmost three and inform the other two they can have half an extra ration when we’re done with Hatha for their bravery in volunteering.” I reply.

  I watch coldly as the Seps attempt to race alongside us towards our hyperspace egress point. Luckily we had both begun our path before they had realized our move and better engines on most our ships. Even so, the leading Sep warships were almost fully abreast with the rearguard and exchanging long range fire as we raced towards the relative safety of hyperspace.

  “First ship is away.”

  My hand was starting to shake as the shields buckle under another volley of Sep fire. Our hyperdrives had better fuel and should be able to allow us to get to Astigone before the Seps with enough time for the plan to work. The current plans should work.

  “Send transmission to all Republic forces in the northern South Loop of the Ash Worlds. Admiral Dericote to members of GAR and Republic Navy, requesting immediate reinforcements to assemble at Balshebr system at system point Sheb post haste. Under Republic military law twelve paragraph seven and special order fifteen on the administration of the GAR, I am using my authority as Marshal Administrator to supersede previous orders. This order excludes all forces under the banner of operation Silken Tubers, whose orders are to continue as previously given.”

  “Sending, sir.” Lieutenant Slas reports, “Think this one will get through?”

  “Last one did, this one’s just to make sure everyone, who can, got it.” I answer as more and more Republic warships enter hyperspace. The second transmission was a risk, but while a first order could be ignored as possibly being unsound and blamed on technical or astronomical disturbances, the same officer giving the same order soon after couldn’t easily be waved away.

  “Got the calculations ready.” The navigations officer reports.

  “Minute we get to the egress point you may make the jump.” I order. Maybe I should have used a different plan for Astigone? The Seps could continue their current pursuit into hyperspace without reforming and play havoc with my forces assembling the terrain. Or what if they’ve intercepted my communiques and decide to play havoc in the southern Ash Worlds instead of pursuing us? No, Hatha knows I am more than willing to sacrifice strategic assets when necessary. If the Neimoidian attempts to divide his forces to take on more of the Ash Worlds I’ll split mine in half and go after his formations piecemeal.

  “It’ll work.” I mutter as we finally, finally make the jump alongside the rest of the rearguard.