A couple days pass and the investigation concludes. Turns out, I had just survived an assassination attempt. Lucky me. Seems a Sepy sympathizer had been cajoled into planting a bomb on the hangar shield and sabotaged the emergency door. All in exchange for a neat sum of credits, some hundred grand after purchases of the needed supplies and the bribes to get the rest of their maintenance crew off their backs.

  The credits were seized, obviously, the maintenance crew subjected to the Mon Cala criminal courts, on account of their negligence and the Sepy sympathizer, a Rendili descendant human, placed into custody to await the attempted murder trial. Honestly though, things could have been worse. If R4 hadn’t overriden the doors, if I hadn’t had my vibroblade, if my men hadn’t been prepared for a possible boarding action at all times, I would have been a dead man.

  Now if only I could get out of all the damn paperwork I had to do. Detaining the superfluous innocents had resulted in a lawsuit from the owner for emotional distress, to be settled out of court for a lump sum of credits we hadn’t decided on yet, while the others needed to be compensated for their cooperation and loss of income due to our actions. And getting me my new officers cap.

  Such a pain.

  I look at Sector General Therbon’s hologram with a dumbfounded expression: “I’m terribly sorry, sir, but I must have just suffered an auditory hallucination as there is no way in all nine Hells that what you just said was true.”

  “No, Admiral, you suffered no such malediction. The greater Banking Clans have been folded into the Republic after the Separatist invasion of Scipio.” The Sector General answers, “The Supreme Chancellor now has the banks as part of his wartime executive powers. There will be no more worries about paystubs, ration purchases and we will be able to pay a larger portion of our weapons and ship production in genuine credits instead of warbonds.”

  “No more worries about budgets.” I sigh in joy.

  “More or less. However be aware this entire debacle has caused some … disagreements with multiple contractors and producers. The Banking Clans may not have been perfect, but they were trusted to uphold the value of the credit. Something the Chancellor has not promised. We can expect a certain level of inflation. Be careful, Dericote.”

  “Of course, sir.” I reply easily, “And congratulations for you victories between Lantillies and Roche.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. We’ve made good pace so far. However I would request you to increase your rate of raiding between Anzat and Dellalt to try and force the enemy to divert forces away from our counter advance towards Centares.”

  “I will see what can be done with the forces available, sir.” I reply, before exchanging quick salutes of respect. The hologram goes out not a moment later, leaving me to ruminate by my self once more. More and more power being given to the Chancellor. Had Solomahal and I been wrong? Was Isard just a patsy for Palpatine?

  It certainly seemed possible, but where did the Jedi and their Clone project fit into this? It was like the first time I had seen a painting of a lake. It had been beautiful, but so confusing. The lacking context disrupting the picture I had. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know the painter, the subject of the painting or what the painting was supposed to evoke. And I didn’t have a more knowledgeable friend to give me the answers this time.

  “R4, play something nice. I need to get out of this paranoid slump.” I ask, my sister of a droid doing as asked once I finished speaking. A gentle tune emerges from her speakers as I sigh. Maybe I should just retire.

  Another loyal spy silenced. Solomahal frowns. That was the third in the same number of weeks. Kamino had proven to be too difficult. The Republic Intelligence databanks didn’t have anything. The bug he had placed within Vice Chancellor Amedda’s office had been eliminated within hours and now his third informant within the Senate Bureau of Intelligence has been imprisoned for Separatist sympathies.

  The Lutrillian General sighs. He couldn’t afford to spend more resources on this. Sure, it was rather concerning if Dericote’s intel about the Clones was true. However they were a small drop of the total number of soldiers within the bucket of the Republic’s military. There were more Volunteer Regiments than there were Clone Infantry Platoons. Sure, a Fett Clone Battalion with decent armor could usually take on a fully equipped Mechanized Infantry Regiment, but again, there simply weren’t enough Clones to matter.

  Not unless Isard somehow managed to get an entire Corps of Clones on Coruscant for a coup d’etat, something the Jedi officers would likely not support with all the tensions between Isard’s cronies and the Jedi. No, the problem existed, but it was far more important to work on destroying Isard’s “renegade” agents, defeating the Separatists and keeping a watchful eye on the magical space wizards.

  Solomahal writes up a quick message for one of his loyal aides to encrypt and send off to Dericote. He was sorry he was unable to help, but there were more pressing matters. Dericote would understand, they were both loyal soldiers of the Republic after all.

  I could feel the tension on my bridge build with every day, every shift even, as we adjusted our starcharts and maps to reflect the war. While my command had calmed, raids and counter raids mostly falling into the hands of our privateers and Generals Allie and McClellan while the Seps continued fruitlessly sending ships to Dellalt against an increasingly successful Taskforce Midnight Volgue.

  And yet the tension rose all the same. As Therbon retook worlds between Roche and Republic controlled Ringo Vinda, Trench broke Admiral Dorja at Chazwa. As Scipio was increasingly secured and Mygeeto was put under Republic siege again, the Separatists pushed, battled over our vital logistics hub at Ord Mantell and managed to put Yaga Minor under siege in turn. As Bestine fell to Fleet Admiral Zsinj and Tarkin pushed the Separatists out of the Ado Sector, Ghorman had barely survived a Separatist counter to divert forces away from the offensives.

  As Bimmisaari fell to a Republic taskforce the Separatist commander had bombarded the world in frustration. The people had been relatively lucky, only two million died in total before the Seps had been forced away by a rapidly approaching and righteously angry Republic taskforce. And yet a tenth of the world’s population had died and the Seps hadn’t even bothered to try and punish their errant officer.

  I was standing on the bridge when the damn broke. Anaxes was under siege. The call went out and every able bodied Anaxsi regiment had been recalled to take up the defense of their homeworld. Entire battlegroups had been recalled and the Open Circle had lost three fleets from their offensive operations to hold off Trench and hopefully push him back.

  One Adjutant, a young Sergeant from Anaxes itself, had … lost his composure at the information. The poor lad had to be sedated and two other officers from Alsakan and Grizmallt respectively had requested to have their leave early for the day. I had allowed it, something like this was never easy, Maker knew I sympathized with my own experiences from the first months of the war.

  It was baffling in a sense. Anaxes under siege and not by the Sith or Mandalorian warlords of old, but by secessionists, Separatists! It was insane! It was … infuriating. A slow exhale as I glance around the bridge, my slightly diminished staff looking at me expectantly. I wasn’t exactly sure what they wanted now, but like Hells would I disappoint.

  “Return to your duties. Captain Mi-Kus, begin disseminating the dossiers of plan Aurek-Zerik-One-Niner-Niner-Forn.” I order, “Send it out to the command’s squadrons. No one of lower rank than Commodore is to read it, exceptions being Adjutant Captains.”

  Mi-Kus’s eyes widen at the named plan, but he salutes all the same: “Sir.”

  The plan was the updated evacuation plans for the entire command. They had been drafted and updated as hyperlanes were made usable, formations changed, economies grew and territories expanded. By now they had a few linchpins, the primary one involving probable cooperation with the Hutts. I wasn’t pleased by that fact, but better the Hutts than risk a vengeful Seps. I didn’t trust them not to brake any armistice they had foisted onto us at blasterpoint.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I look across the bridge once more, gauging the reactions of my veteran crew as the three Jedi’s hologram stood before me. Tapal looked exhausted, as did Knight Forte, Cal meanwhile looked decently well rested. It seemed Tapal was still keeping his protege out of the worst of the fighting. On the one hand, I couldn’t blame him, Kestis was still a kid, a teenager sure, but a kid nonetheless. On the other hand, he had to learn the hard truths soon, or else likely never face them.

  “Dellalt is ours?” I ask just to be sure I hadn’t missed anything vital.

  “And the Separatists have routed to Caluula.” Knight Forte repeats himself to my benefit.

  “Excellent.” I mutter as a few relieved sighs and quiet cheers echo through the bridge. Dellalt, despite our successes there, was still a boogieman for most of my 97th, be it from the older crew being disseminated through the squadron or the haunted looks from the veterans whenever the system or world was mentioned.

  “How soon can the garrison be sent?” General Tapal says.

  “We should have a regiment available soon, with another on the way to establish an actual brigade on planet.” I answer, “Will the taskforce in system be continuing on to Caluula or will they disband?”

  “Master Tapal has decided his forces would be better served raiding along the northern Triellus for the time being. I have no problems with maintaining the remaining taskforce until we’ve been ordered to march on Caluula.” Knight Forte explains.

  “Very well. I would recommend you send the more damaged ships to Mintooine for repairs. Though I would greatly enjoy the General’s and Commander’s presence at my headquarters to ensure they are sufficiently briefed and … warned of the possibility of interdepartmental tampering if they stray too close to one officer or another.” I request.

  “Can this not be done by holotransmission?” Tapal asks curiously.

  “No, General. It would neither be proper on practical. Some intel is better transferred in person when it does not risk interception.” I explain.

  Knight Forte looks rather suspicious of the whole thing, but Tapal nods in understanding. It made his subservience to Forte over Dellalt all the more confusing to me. Jedi were so peculiar when it came to rank and command. However as long as the Jedi could make sense of it, I didn’t have to.

  “Then I shall make for Mon Cala once more. I look forward to our meeting, Admiral.” Tapal says, a small smile on his face almost seeming insignificant compared to the broad grin on his Padawan’s face.

  “Very good. I shall receive you post haste once you arrive. I will send up the 28th Battleship Section to reinforce you at Dellalt until your taskforce has finished with their repairs, though be aware, Senior Captain Paok and his command will not be transferred to your taskforce unless I order it.”

  “Very well. Until next time, Admiral.” Knight Forte says before the three Jedi bow in unison, their holograms petering out a moment later. I let out a small sigh of relief. I was going to risk much with Tapal, but … he should be far enough removed from Jedi leadership and close enough to my person to be amenable.

  I keep a small smile on my face as the shuttle approaches the hangar bay of my Little Revenge, Captain Solo beside me, for once without any stains on her uniform. Even with the constant stress of emergency preparations in case of the increasingly possible worst case scenarios, this part of the day would likely be rather relaxed.

  “It’ll do ya good to have Kestis here.” Solo says as the shuttle finishes its approach.

  “How so?” I ask.

  “You always do better with kids about. I think they help with your stress.” Solo states.

  I consider it a moment before nodding: “They make so many problems seem so simple or distract you with what they think is the end of the world, but really isn’t anything that important.”

  “Exactly, sir.” Solo says, a small smile on her face.

  The shuttle lands and her ramp begins descending as Kestis pops out, as always eager and quick on his feet. Tapal follows behind at a sedated pace, arms behind his back and seemingly relaxed. Kestis makes a formal Navy salute, which I and Solo return easily enough. It had been fun drilling the kid on the basics of Navy etiquette during our time together, such a thing would only help in the long run after all, especially since the Navy will probably stick around after this war.

  Tapal finishes his approach and gives a short bow as he speaks: “Admiral, as always it is a pleasure.”

  “Pleasure’s mine, General. May I reintroduce you to Captain Solo of Little Squadron, leader of the 120th’s fighter detachments and representative of the Starfighter Corps within my Command.” I say, gesturing to Solo as I do, her smile immediately shifting to a scowl at the reminder of her promotions after the last campaign.

  “A pleasure as always, Captain Solo.” Tapal says easily before returning his attention to me, “You had something to tell us?”

  “Yes, yes.” I say, “If you’d follow me to my quarters, it is rather sensitive. Solo, if you would inform Captain Mi-Kus of my whereabouts, who I am meeting with and to not have me disturbed unless things go critical?”

  “Of course, sir.” Solo replies, her tone showing the necessary hint of understanding I was looking for, “Will you demote me if I don’t?”

  “Not a chance.” I reply joyfully to the cheek and distraction of what I had just ordered.

  “Worth a shot.” Solo grumbles lightly, most of the anger on the subject having dissipated in the weeks after her promotion and increased duties.

  I gesture for the two Jedi to follow me, the Force wielders falling into step as I march off. My shoulders tense slightly as I readjust my holster somewhat. This would likely not be a particularly enjoyable meeting. Four Cortosis slugs, three durasteel slugs and a shrapnel. I didn’t want it to escalate, but I would not allow myself to be caught unawares again. Not after Krell.

  The journey to my quarters is relatively quick, with some inane small-talk of rations and the ever present wish of rest from all the fighting. As we enter I nod to R4 closing the doors behind us and sit at my desk. I quickly pull out a bottle of mint liquor I had gotten some time back as the Jedi seat themselves across from me. How should I begin this? I ponder it a moment once more before deciding on working my way up to what I feared most.

  “So you wished to raid along the Triellus?” I ask.

  “It seems the best place for my Padawan to gain experience.” Tapal says, glancing at Kestis as I nod in agreement. Not many militias in the forges of the Confederacy. Most likely they’d fight droids in factories instead of sentients in housing blocks.

  “Not a bad choice.” I agree, “I figure I should warn you of the dangers which could befall you if you decide to leave my command. General McClellan and I have a bit of an understanding, so he won’t try and poach you for anything bigger than a raid, or less desperate than a vital battle and even then, he likely won’t try and keep you for longer than strictly necessary.”

  “I am unsure if we will venture out that far.” Tapal says, a frown on his face.

  “I am starting with the most agreeable information and workin’ my way down.” I inform the two Jedi as I continue, “Now High General Allie is a bit busy, which has lead to most of her admin duties for the Greater Halla Sector Command falling on Admiral Meade’s shoulders. The snapping turtle may be a bit … stiff, but he won’t keep you unless he thinks he needs you desperately and the command is rather stable as of the fall of Bimmisaari.”

  “That is good to know.” Tapal says.

  “Therbon might be tricky.” I admit, “He and his have been trying rather hard to push the Seps further than Euceron and have need to expand the area they control around the Perlimian. If you can support him there, he will likely demand it.”

  “Admiral.” Tapal begins, his tone hinting at some kind of admonishment, but I plow on.

  “Not to say such a thing isn’t warranted, but with Anaxes looming over our heads I’m not even sure I’ll be able to keep the ships Mon Cala and her colonies are producing within the command, never mind the newly raised regiments.”

  “Admiral.” The tone is definitely admonishing.

  “Never mind their Merchant Fleet, though I dread the fallout if I have to pressgang them.” I continue.

  “Admiral?” Kestis asks.

  “I of course would not begrudge you your preferred command.” I continue, “Especially with the mounting mess.”

  “Thraken.” Kestis says, grabbing my arm from across the desk to get me to shut up.

  Suddenly he stiffens, the kid’s eyes going blank and he won’t let go. I exchange a glance with Tapal. Was the kid having a seizure? What was going on? Was this a Force thing? As I start to worry it ends just as quickly as it started. Kestis jumping out of his chair, eyes wide and fearful, stammering without meaning as he continues to back away.

  “Padawan!” Tapal barks in surprise as he moves over.

  “Kid?” I ask, concern crashing through me as he stares fearfully towards my desk. No, not the desk, me.

  “How?” The kid finally stammers out.

  “What?” I mutter.

  “What do you mean, Padawan?” Tapal asks as he moves to comfort the kid as I lean over my desk.

  “How could you do that?” The kid asks, eyes wide and fearful.

  “Do what?” I ask, confusion clear in my voice.

  “They were prisoners.” The kid mumbles quietly and suddenly the room chills.

  My eyes darken. Had the kid … seen something through the Force? Had the mysticisms of the Jedi forced the kid to witness something I did? What did I do to prisoners? I always treated them well, made sure they had food and water and whatever else their species needed.

  “Padawan?” Tapal asks.

  “On Balshebr, they were prisoners. Some were barely older than I am.” Kestis whispers, his words echoing through the room like an explosion.

  I school my face: “They were warcriminals.”

  “They were civilians!”

  “Militia serving a madwoman!” I bark, metal fist slamming against my desk, how could a kid understand? How dare he! He wasn’t there. He did not see the aftermath, the crying parents over their dead children, outraged men and women ready to lynch anyone they even suspected of colluding, my very soul burning with righteous fury.

  “They were people in your care.” The kid begs.

  “They were soldiers.” I say, tone cold as I march around my desk, “They were soldiers who committed an unforgivable crime. They were sentenced by two judges and my own person. They died like the dogs they were and I would have hung ten thousand more if it would have stopped the massacre they committed and will hang any man who does the same!”

  The kid’s eyes are filled with terror and Tapal looks disapprovingly at me as I finish my tirade. A moment’s hesitation fills me, had I gone too far? He was a kid. He was a soldier. He was barely older than some of my cousins. He had fought battles. He was so young. He was a commissioned officer of the Republic. He was a Jedi, they worked differently, the kid had taught me that very thing.

  "This war demands much." I continue, "Evil is all around us. If we do not fight it, we become it."

  "And yet you would fall to their level?" Tapal asks, placing a comforting hand upon his Padawan’s shoulder.

  "One does not win a war by failing to fight the enemy to one’s fullest ability. Let them fear what I will do to them if they massacre another civilian populace." I spit back, "I have rope enough to spare for anyone foolish enough to fail their moral obligations."

  Tapal rises to his full height, hand leaving his Padawan’s shoulder, focusing his entire presence to leer down at me: “If that is all, we will be taking our leave now. Maybe our services will be more useful in other theaters.”

  My eyes widen in shock. Really? This was the hill he wished to die on? I straighten myself, placing a hand to comfort myself on my slugthrower. My tone is far more clipped than I would like and it takes far more effort than I would ever admit from screaming at them. Didn’t they understand? This war was hell for billions if not trillions of people. What was a few hundred dead after the crimes they committed? What else could I have done? Let the mob avenge themselves without restraint? Give in to my own wishes and kill every militiaman on Balshebr without remorse? No, I had given them what justice I could, no matter how the swaying bodies hanging from the trees had haunted my dreams in the following days.

  “If that is your wish, I will not hold you here.” I hesitate then, these were the only Jedi I even slightly trusted. Damn it all, everything was falling apart, “Just know you are welcome at my door and will be given water and food if asked even if it must be blood and crickets.”

  That was my olive branch, my offered cup of water. Even if the terms we leave on were sour, I would offer the possibility of reconciliation. It was probably better this way, for all I knew it was the Jedi who had placed the demand for the chips.

  “Then by your leave, Admiral.” Tapal says, before ushering his kid out.

  I wave him out, though he didn’t wait. The door closes and I glance at the floor. Shameful, that was no way to act as an officer of the Navy. Fucking Balshebr, it … it had felt so right in the moment, it had felt like justice.

  R4 whistles a sad sound.

  “Yeah, I … I really fucked that up.”