The Force Wills - Chapter 141

The Ansion star was growing ever larger in the viewscreen.

Approaching it at a fraction of lightspeed, an escape pod that was now tumbling out of control.

I stood in the centre of the Lucrehulk’s bridge, which Durge had apparently named the Bloodmaul. It was just so typical of the bloodthirsty bastard, reflecting his savage, relentless nature along with his penchant for destruction. Now, at last, after 2000 years, the galaxy would be rid of him.

Through the Force, I could just about keep a sliver of perception on the gen’dai. He was still experiencing a relentless rage that burned like a tiny star. There was no acceptance of his fate, no hopelessness, no self-pity, no reflection or regret. He just continued to hate and rage, taking it out on the escape pod around him. It surprised me he hadn’t utterly wrecked it already, tearing it apart from the inside. That meant he still held onto a small sliver of rationality, that at least wanted the end to come quickly and painlessly -  as opposed to dying to vacuum in the void of space or at this range from the sun, burning to a crisp. 

The bulkhead door to the expansive bridge opened behind me and Hondo was escorted in by three commando droids.

In the small droid civil war that had occurred on the Bloodmaul, it was rare for commandos to be successfully assimilated. So these three were rather special but it also meant M8 had wanted to make sure that Hondo didn’t try any funny business.

“Ohnaka, welcome to the bridge of the Bloodmaul.”

He stopped and stared at my very obedient B1 bridge crew, then started laughing with a belly deep delight, “Oh, ha, ha, ha, oh, my dear Jedi, you actually managed to subvert them?”

I answered him by making a specific gesture to his commando droid escort, who nodded at me before taking up guard positions at the bridge entrance. “Yes, as you can imagine it’s not something to be used lightly and I only did it to prevent this ship from massacring millions.”

He nodded, “Something the ansionians will be very grateful to you for. At this point, they’ll fix your ship’s hyperdrive for free!”

“I suppose they would, if I was inclined to tell them how close they came to being annihilated via orbital strikes. As it is, we still have to deal with the droids that Durge landed.”

“With no more reinforcements or supplies from this ship coming, the ansionians can handle it,” Hondo waved off my concern.

“And your own… troops? Gang?”

“My compound is a fortress, my dear. They can hold out and now that the threat of these ships are dealt with, my own can return - if you would be so kind as to let me use the com system?”

I gestured towards the appropriate station, whilst M8 gave the appropriate orders to our droids.

Hondo practically glided with glee towards the bank of controls and began tapping in the frequency. The small holo of a striking blue-skinned female twi’lek with intricate white tattoos tracing her lekku appeared. She wore a sleek black flightsuit, adorned with pouches for gadgets and a vibroblade sheathed on her back along with a DL44 holstered on her right thigh. I knew not every twi’lek in the galaxy had a bedroom body, but this one easily rated a nine on my own scale - ouch. About the only thing that marred her appearance was a cybernetic left eye that glowed faintly red and didn’t have a synthetic disguise on it.

“Hondo! Still alive?” Vryss asked. Oh for frak’s sake, even her voice had this breathy, unctuous tone to it that made me think I could listen to it all day as it whispered sweet nothings into my montrals. If it sounded like this through a reasonably high grade comlink, then I could only imagine it in person. Urgh, stupid hormones were acting up again.

“Yes, my dear Vryss. Is that disappointment I hear?” he asked dangerously.

“Do you really think I want to be saddled leading your sorry lot of weequay lechers?”

He chuckled, “So, yes, I’m very much alive and free. My Jedi friend has taken care of the situation in orbit, you can bring all the ships back. I need you to attack the droid forces that are besieging the compound.”

“That is… very surprising and a story that I’m looking forward to hearing. We’re on our way, Vryss out.”

“Aren’t we getting a little close to the sun, Tano?” he asked worriedly, looking at the viewscreen.

“We’ll stop before it becomes an issue, I need to confirm that Durge is dead with my own eyes and the sensor records of this ship.” I gestured to the escape pod.

His mouth briefly gaped open in surprise before a wicked smile emerged, “Durge is in there? About to be burned up in the sun?”

“Indeed.”

“Ho, ho, ho, wonderful!” He clapped his hands with excitement. “It’s too bad no one is stupid enough to post a bounty on him. Just how did you manage to do it?”

“Planning, I’ve fought him before alongside my master and Obi-Wan Kenobi. This is one of the methods we developed for getting rid of him. Blasters and lightsabers don’t do enough damage quickly enough, not before he either escapes or kills his opponent. Disruptors could work if you had enough of them firing at once, but he’s not stupid or inexperienced and will just run away if you show up with that. So the answer is to not fight him at all, engage him in a ship in space, let him think he has the upper hand, destroy his armor, then lure and shove him into an escape pod. Set an appropriate course and the star will do the work.”

“Ha, ha, ha, brilliant!” His smile was even wider now. “Unbelievable, I never thought in my life, I would witness history like this being made. The unkillable, unstoppable Durge, brought low by the Mandalorian Jedi! You’re going to be famous among the bounty hunters, my dear.”

“Something I’m not looking forward to,” I mumbled

“You can bet they’ll even give you a new title, Durge’s Bane or something like that.”

“Commander, hull temperature is approaching recommended safety limits,” reported the B1 helmsman.

“Add polarization to the viewscreen, and all stop,” I ordered.

The glare of the sun dimmed significantly and was just in time to see the hull of the pod begin to vaporize. The internal air started leaking out and was immediately dissociated into its constituent elemental gasses. That energy release was the final nail in Durge’s coffin - it tore the pod apart.

I could briefly make out the form of the gen’dai spilling out.

He existed as a contiguous whole for only milliseconds, before he was just… gone.

Every molecule of him ripped apart, which further stripped apart under the sheer imparted energy.  

“You got that, M8?”

“Every sensor that could look was trained on that pod, mistress. Downloading... I have it.”

“It’s over. Set a course for Ansion.”

“Roger, roger, commander.”

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“Please?”

“No.”  

“Come now, what are you going to do with an entire Lucrehulk battleship?” Hondo argued.

I turned my head so that the overhead bridge lighting caught my helmet’s T-visor in just the right way, glaring it into Hondo’s eyes. “There are many important things that can be done with the Bloodmaul. Most of which I will not be discussing with you, Ohnaka.”

This was the fourth time in the last hour that he had tried to persuade me to hand over the battleship to the local Ansion government. In other words, just a thinly veiled way that the cunning ‘privateer’ was trying to get his own hands on the ship. Hondo Ohnaka in charge of a 500 million credit, state of the art, wartime battleship?

No.

Not happening on my watch. As much as there was to like about Hondo, he equally had many things to dislike.

“Commander, approaching Ansion orbit,” announced the helm droid.

“Put us into a high inclination polar orbit, 20k kilometers.”

“Roger, roger.”

“How many Vulture and Hyena droids are ready?”

“Two squadrons of Vulture and one Hyena, commander,” announced the B1 in charge of flight ops.

“Launch one Vulture squadron and the Hyena, primary targets are the besieging enemy droids at the coordinates I’m streaming to you.”

“Roger, roger.”

M8 did the nitty gritty and within a minute a small stream of fighter droids launched out of the Bloodmaul’s starboard hangar bay.

“Ah, a pity,” Hondo sighed. “I begin to see the allure of power that the Separatists have. They don’t have to worry about training, food or getting stabbed in the back by upstarts. They just sit back on their bridges, give the order and things happen.”

“That is precisely the thinking that got the galaxy into this mess and why the Bloodmaul will soon also go on a journey into the nearest star I can find.”

“Ah, such a waste. Really, my dear. Just think about it! Imagine this ship on station in Mandalorian space-”

“No. First, we wouldn’t accept it, we wouldn’t trust it, because no matter how thorough we are in inspecting and dissecting every line of code in every computer on this ship, we couldn’t be sure that there isn’t a backdoor the CIS can use to either self-destruct or take it over again. Second, maintaining it would be insanely expensive, not to mention crewing it to the level we want. We wouldn’t trust a droid crew to run this ship’s washing machine, let alone any of its main guns. Finally, even if we solved every other issue - at the end of the day, it’s still just a Lucrehulk and this is a war of fleets, not single ships. Yes, it would also be nice if I could trust the Ansionians with this ship, but the only way they’d have any hope of keeping it in some sort of working order in the long term, was if the entire Malarian Alliance cooperated in the effort. Otherwise, this thing will become just a well armed space station eventually.”

Hondo puffed himself up ready to launch with his counter but he found himself at a loss and deflated. “Your arguments make too much sense,” he grumbled. “It’s like I’m listening to Vryss.”

“She sounds like a wise twi’lek with that most rare of gifts called common sense.”

“Commander, our fighters are approaching target co-ordinates,” reported the helm droid.

“Give me the forward visual sensor feed of the lead fighter.”

The view of Ansion was replaced with the shaky first-person view of the lead Vulture as it screamed through the sky, dived, rolled and rapidly fired its cannons. Strafing formations of B1s and B2s that were steadily assaulting a large fortified compound that was partially built into the side of a low mountain.

“Nice base, Ohnaka.”

“Why thank you, my dear. Perhaps after all this is over you would care for a visit? We’ll have an amazing travelling circus here in a few days. It’s going to take some time to fix the hyperdrive of the Crucible anyway.”

It was very tempting, as I had fond childhood memories of circus acts on old Earth and at this point hadn’t attended a show in person for decades. Seeing a Corusca galaxy version of it given the fantastic species, beasts and creatures that existed would indeed be a treat.

“We’ll see,” I stalled, but my attention was drawn to the feed as I saw Hondo’s privateers begin their counterattack from their stronghold.

It was spearheaded by a formation of speeder tanks, with a large spinal laser cannon and two turreted anti-personnel blasters.

“M8, run a recognition search on those tanks from the war book.”

“Yes, mistress. It’s the WLO-5 speeder tank manufactured by Ubrikkian Ord Pedrovia, a subsidiary of Ubrikkian Industries.”

The things weren’t armored that well, but they more than made up for that with the blistering speed of nearly 110 kph and supreme agility. The tanks actually side-strafed as their side blasters sprayed rapid plasma bolts, killing dozens of B1s in seconds. Their main guns were easily strong enough to at least two-shot a B2. They left the few enemy AATs on the ground in the dust, easily being faster than the enemy’s turret traversal speed.

I turned to face Hondo fully, “Just how did you convince a major Corellian armed vehicle manufacturer to sell you those?”

“Well, I have an understanding with the Director of Ord Pedrovia,” he shrugged, but I could sense that he was squirming internally.

“You mean you’ve blackmailed them somehow?”

“Blackmail is such a strong word, it’s just business. I paid for every tank you see fighting out there. The financial results for Pedrovia look very good this year. He’ll get a nice bonus too.”

The question of how Hondo afforded his small fleet and now this ground force was something I really would like the answer to. I was no stranger to managing wealth in this galaxy, given my own assets through Clan Vizsla, the taxes and management of the Condordian moon, my shares and seat on the MandalMotors board and the CSO corporation. If there was one lesson I also took away from helping to work on the new Mandalorian capital ship with Kalevala Spaceworks, military equipment and starship development were frakking expensive.  

Obvious, of course, but it was one thing to generally know a thing and another to see the actual expense statements that rolled in.

My only conclusion was that Hondo was most definitely not just a pirate, even when it was his primary occupation. His privateer mercenary work also only went so far to explain his assets. His side-hustles could’ve included a whole range of extortion, ransom, smuggling, black market dealings, protection rackets and salvaging from battlespaces in the war.

I sighed wearily and walked over to the com station. Worrying about Hondo’s burgeoning ‘business’ was for future-me.

“Ahsoka to Crucible. Come in.”

It took a few moments, but the connection went through and Professor Huyang’s holo appeared in the main bridge holotank.

“Crucible here. Padawan Tano, it’s good to see you in one piece. I have six very relieved adepts in front of me.”

“I’m sure they are. I want you to lift off and land the Crucible within my newly captured Lucrehulk battleship, it should just about fit.”

“I’m sorry, Padawan. My audio receptors must be malfunctioning. Did you just imply that you’ve captured an entire Lucrehulk?”

“I did, and don’t worry about the droids you see. They’re all loyal to the Republic.”

Huyang was silent for a few very long moments and I could practically see his circuits buzzing. “I’ll be heading for the cockpit immediately, Padawan. When the Crucible arrives, you and I will be having a chat.”

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I saw Hondo off the ship in his Flarestar attack shuttle a few hours later.

The battle on Ansion’s surface was all but over at this point and most of Hondo’s small fleet of frigates were landed, with only one remaining in orbit as a token ‘escort’ for the Bloodmaul. I had already talked over the coms to the Chief Unity of the Ansionian government - their version of a federal president.

A rather blunt, straightforward ansionian male by the name of Yta Surdole, who looked like he had just come from the battlefield himself. Assuring the poor guy of my intentions with the ship had taken a huge load off his shoulders. He understandably didn’t have much time to talk, given everything he had to deal with, but I sensed he was as good a person as the ansionians could really have in the role.    

Ansion’s government was a loose alliance of the planet’s cities and towns. The low population density gave the place a real frontier feel and the people down there, which included a minority of humans and armalat, liked their independence and to keep their government small. It was a sentiment that I liked in theory, but it could only work on a planet like this.

The Crucible was on final approach and Huyang got to show off his own piloting skill with the craft that was his primary home. There was just a few meters of clearance for the dorsal and ventral sides of the ship to fit inside one of Bloodmaul’s hangars.

The lack of a full complement of Vultures on board really made things easier as well, giving the ship ample space to land.

“Ahsoka!”

I was almost dogpiled by Katooni and Ganodi, whilst the others hurried out eagerly to see the interior of their first warship.

“Whoah, easy there,” I laughed, managing to stay on my feet and awkwardly hug the two relieved girls.

All of them were almost exploding with joy in the relief that they were not staring down the spectre of being stranded out in the Mid-Rim, the worry about dealing with the pirates that had attacked, and the Separatists possibly capturing them as well. I was alive and everything looked like they were going home back to the Temple.

“Now did you all behave?” I asked sternly, looking down on the two.

“Of course we did,” Petro said as he gazed intently at a nearby Hyena droid.

“I’m happy to confirm that I had no disciplinary problems with them, Padawan,” said Huyang as he rather gracefully walked down the ramp.

“Good, that means you can all come with me on a small tour of this ship. You’ll have the unique distinction of being on board a Separatist warship without having to fight for your freedom or life.”

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“You should know we will get a coaxium ingot hand delivered by Chief Unity Surdole tomorrow.”

I removed my helmet with some relief as I dropped wearily into the Crucible’s captain chair. Keeping a bunch of hyperactive and very curious adepts on target during the tour of the Bloodmaul had been mentally exhausting. Now at last, their bellies were full and each was tucked into their quarters where I sensed them fast falling asleep.

“No doubt accompanied by the usual political grandstanding and where he will want to award you with the keys to the planet,” Huyang scoffed.

“He actually didn’t strike me as the grandstanding type, though he’ll be compelled as a matter of honor at least to give me some form of award,” I sighed wearily. It pretty much came with the territory of being a Jedi. Most tried to leave before they could get sucked into any local politics, but sometimes it couldn’t be avoided. 

“Padawan, let’s get to the heart of the matter. I just saw almost an entire Separatist battleship of droids obey your commands as their leader. I know more about droids than what most modern engineers will ever learn in their lifetime. This is not just a minor reprogramming,” Huyang had one set of arms folded over his chest, whilst the second set was on his hips and the ancient architect paced in front of me.

“No, it’s an exponential, adaptive, assimilation program that seeks to spread itself to as many droid minds that it can reach. You don’t have to worry, it's calibrated and targeted by M8 before it's deployed. It will not go beyond the hull of the Bloodmaul and it only targets CIS droid models.”

“While that is some comfort for my own circuits, the program you are describing is incredibly dangerous. How sure are you that it will not evolve beyond your control? Unless-”

“Please Professor, I know full well the dangers. It has its own form of hard coded restraints and it takes the majority of its core from M8 herself.”

“Can I assume the reason this weapon has not been deployed on a greater scale would be the threat of escalation from the Separatists?"

“Correct, and the only reason I deployed it was because General Durge was here and threatening to use the Bloodmaul and his other ships to wipe out the planet below with orbital strikes.”

Huyang actually froze and it amazed me that he could actually emote to such a degree. “Pardon me, Padawan Tano, Durge-”

I held up a hand, “Yes, you heard correctly.”

“Mistress, do you wish me to transmit the relevant recordings to the Professor?” M8 spoke up from my helmet. “It’ll definitely make this go faster.”

“If the professor agrees?” I asked, giving Huyang a raised questioning brow.

The architect droid turned his optics to my helmet, “I was wondering… you are literally wearing a droid intelligence… Oh, just go ahead, opening channel 131 Xesh.”

“Transmitting,” M8 declared with a cheery tone.

It took moments and Huyang’s entire chassis seemed to come alive, his eyes brightening, then dulling as he processed the implications of the events of the past day.

“Oh, oh dear. They were actually going to do it! Which means-”

“Yes, I might have stopped it here, but it could just mean that on other battlefields across the galaxy, the Separatists have just tossed Post-Ruusan War Conduct out the proverbial airlock.”

“Have you contacted the Jedi Council?”

“No, there are also indications that the Separatists have managed to restart espionage activities on Coruscant. I don’t want to entrust anything to long range Holonet transmissions at the moment.”

“I can understand that you don’t really want to advertise that you have a weapon like this, but given the scale of this, it’s inevitable at this point.”

“If it’s the price of saving more than twenty million,” I shrugged, releasing my nervousness into the Force. “I guess I can look forward to having my bounty increased significantly in the near future.”

“What about contacting Master Yoda? Surely, this will be important enough-”

“No, what Yoda is busy with at the moment makes this issue a trifle in comparison. I will send an encoded message directly to his shuttle and from there it is up to him. We will remain in orbit until you’ve obtained the supplies to fix the Crucible’s hyperdrive. We’ll then jump to the system’s Oort Cloud to remain hidden for the duration of the repairs. How long?”

“Once I have the coaxium in hand, twenty hours at minimum.”

“Good, now it’s just a matter of waiting and keeping six young adepts out of trouble in the meantime.”

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“Hyperspace exit in three… two… one…”

The 42nd Fleet surged into real space. Twelve Venator-IIs led by the Resolute, which was at this point a de facto Venator-II via its upgrades, smoothly organized themselves. The fleet made a few course adjustments and slotted into a wall formation

A moment later,  twenty Gun Acclamators blinked into existence behind them from hyper.

Anakin stood in Command One - the immersive holo of the space around the world of Keitum rendered in all its vast splendour.

It was a view that was marred by the condition of the planet.

It was surreal just looking at it - a world of three super-continents and two massive oceans surrounding it - which now had a massive burning scar that stretched nearly 3000 kilometers.

He reached out his left hand to a holopanel, fingers tense and twitching as he wrestled with the tempest of furious anger that broiled in his heart at the atrocity he was looking at.

A population density overlay taken from the database draped itself over the planet and told the horrific story. 

All three of the largest cities on the planet fell into that expanse of fire. Estimated fatality figures were calculated and he heard the glove over his prosthetic creak in protest as he squeezed that hand into a fist.

“Ninety million,” said Skoll hollowly, his face paling at the projected number thrown up.

Anakin couldn’t speak, he was too busy fighting to maintain his emotional equilibrium. He had an entire fleet of souls who he was also responsible for and he couldn’t command them with this volatile emotional foundation.

With a singular focus, he let the anger go, he let it pass through him, he turned his mind’s eye to see the path it had taken…

Now only he remained.

His eyes turned to the Separatist shadow fleet.

They hung over Keitum like a murderer standing over their victim, bloody vibroknife in hand.

Four Lucrehulk battleships in the core of their formation, 14 Munificents arrayed around that and eight Recusant light destroyers forming the outer layer.

The 42nd had come out of hyper as close to the edge of Keitum’s mass shadow as possible, but whoever was in command of the enemy had taken full advantage of the current astrogeography of the moons around the planet. They were still over 350k kilometers away and there would be no bombers that could scream in from hyper to ambush.

They would have to run the missile and fighter gauntlet to reach the enemy.

He turned to meet Skoll’s eyes and for once found understanding and a carefully restrained fury in there that was like looking into a mirror.

Baylan Skoll nodded, his lips pursed, “What are your orders, General?”

Anakin placed his hand on the holo, opening full command channels to the entire fleet. He could sense the horror from every crewmember in the fleet, but clone conditioning swiftly took over and they pushed through it.

“This is General Skywalker, all ready squadrons are to launch immediately. Second wave to launch as soon as possible afterward. Third wave to pause for ten minutes before launch.”

His hands grabbed hold of the fleetwide holocontrols.

“Full burn into the enemy.”

He selected ten of his Acclamators and put them on a z positive trajectory from above, whilst the second group went z negative and would converge on the enemy fleet from below. It split the fleet slightly, but would present the enemy with three targets to fire at and dilute their throw weight of torpedoes.

“Prepare for max range torpedo launch.”

The 42nd surged forward at 1500G of combined acceleration.

90 seconds until max torpedo range for the fleet, five minutes twenty seconds until gun range.

A swarm of 432 fighters; mostly Headhunters but now also the new more streamlined ARC180s surged out their motherships and burned at 3000G towards the enemy.

The CIS fleet responded with their own fighter launch.

320 Vultures, a paltry 20 Hyena bombers and not a single Tri-fighter.

“Either they’re trying to lull us into a false sense of superiority or they really are riding the limit of their combat supplies,” Anakin mused.

“Couldn’t they use cloaked frigates and light freighters to resupply the fleet?” Skoll suggested.

“A fleet this size, they’d have to use almost every cloak capable vessel in the Separatist navy to make a noticeable dent in the munitions requirements. That’s not even taking into account the fuel that all the droid fighters would be gulping down. No, I think this fleet has been keeping itself barely operational by raiding supplies from the planets they hit. Considering the aftermaths we’ve seen of their attacks.”

The maximum effective range spheres of both fighter swarms crawled closer and closer. Their closing velocities climbing ever higher.

“Skywalker to all squadrons, time to unveil our little surprise. Lock your targets and fire at will.”

Nine hundred missiles dropped from the wings of the combined Republic fighter force, their engines igniting for two seconds at 5000G before shutting themselves down to coast forward solely on the inertia imparted to them. 

Ahsoka had simply called these ‘Ghostriders’. Another example of the fruitful collaboration between his padawan and Lira Blissex.

Concussion missiles were generally detected by their exhaust plumes and the EM emissions of their seeker heads that were trying to keep a lock on their target. Ghostrider missiles did away with the former by using multi-ignition engines and relied on their launching platform for up to date target lock information streamed to the seeker by point to point laser guidance. A capital ship sensor array could use active scan to detect the mass of incoming missiles, but the sheer computing power and data transmission bandwidth to shove a targeting solution to each droid fighter and keep it going with up to date data was utterly impractical. 

Completing the puzzle was the ghostrider missile’s scan absorbent materials that effectively reduced their profile cross-section to something that was barely larger than a human fist. Vulture and Hyena droid active sensors were not sophisticated enough to detect something that small.

The only way Anakin was even seeing the missile's exact position was through the data links to the fighters and Resolute’s own active sensors. Even then it was rendered as an inferred position by the computer.

“Surprise shabla,” he mumbled with a hint of satisfied viciousness at the enemy commander.

The ghostriders speared right through the traditional counter-missile ranges and seconds later, only when they reached their terminal attack phase, did their engines ignite again.

There was no time for jamming, spoofing target locks and even last minute flare and chaff launches from the enemy fighters had only marginal effect.

In a single stroke 218 Vulture droids died with not a single casualty on the Republic side.

Only now did ranges close and the enemy response from less than a hundred surviving fighters was quite pathetic.

190 CIS missiles fired in return, only for the Republic fighters to respond with a rapid concussion missile salvo with a two second delay.

The battlespace lit up brilliantly under the missile swarms, as if suddenly hundreds of new shining stars were born, streaking through the heavens.

Tiny stars that suddenly flashed and died into nothing.

The first Republic fighter wave breached into the enemy fleet’s outer perimeter only losing two squadrons in the process.

Torpedoes burst out of the Headhunters internal launchers, followed quickly by the heavy torpedoes carried within the bellies of the ARC-180s.

Space around the CIS shadow fleet lit up with bright colored orange energy and motion as flak and plasma cannon fire tried to intercept the incoming ordnance.

“No new enemy fighter launches,” Skoll commented, looking at a detailed scan of a Recuscant, his hand swiped through more scans. “I’m also not seeing any Vultures or Hyena attached to exterior hulls either.”

Anakin frowned with worry, zooming out with the entire command projection until Keitum and its three moons were visible in a top down view.

“No, none of the moons are in a position to usefully hide anything. If I was in the opposition’s shoes, I’d want to get as many Hyena bombers angled into our aft quarters, but that’s not possible. Our scouts would’ve found them preparing that anyway.”

“Unless this trap was set before our scouts even reached the system,” Skoll stepped forward, grabbing hold of the holo to zoom in on Keitum’s northern pole. “Here, if you look at the Separatist fleet position relative to our own, by the time our fleet hits torpedo range our aft will be facing the planet’s northern pole. You land bombers there, the solar radiation flux of the planet’s magnetosphere will be more than enough to hide them from a scout’s passive detection.”

Anakin considered it before nodding decisively, tapping the comlink, “Skywalker to second fighter wave. Change of plan, follow the course I’m uploading.”

His hands interfaced with the holo and practically weaved it into being, a few interface taps later and it was sent to the fighter computers.

“Risky,” Skoll commented.

“As my old master would say, when you find a trap, spring it.”

A Recuscant and Munificent exploded with a vicious liberation of energy and debris as the fighters claimed their first capital kills of the battle.

The second wave of Republic fighters launched.

A mix of two hundred Headhunters and Y-Wings that screamed into the void from every Venator IIs bays.

The ranges closed further and the first fighter wave reached the enemy’s inner perimeter and began running the gauntlets.

ARC fighters began unleashing their medium cannons at close range into enemy shields, steadily whittling them down with concentrated fire - two squadrons each focusing on a single Munificent or Recuscant, also throwing point blank torpedoes to further the damage.

Anakin winced as Republic fighters began dying at a steady rate of attrition, even as two more Recuscant’s were reduced to expanding debris and gas clouds.

The 42nd was approaching extreme torpedo range and…

“New sensor contacts, three hundred Hyena bombers and one hundred escorting Vultures,” announced Skoll, manipulating the holo to zoom in to the droid fighters screaming out of Keitum’s atmosphere at full burn.

“Good catch, Skoll,” Anakin smirked. “Skywalker to second wave, resume your launch, cover our rear flank.”

The remaining two hundred fighters, Headhunters and ARCs, launched from the fleet and immediately turned into breaking burns to fight the velocity imparted onto them.

The 42nd left them behind immediately, but most importantly the enemy bombers were now streaking right into the jaws of the second wave.

The first division of the second wave, launched earlier, began turning and looped their course with maximum strength burns to again fight their own velocity.

The fleet quickly flew straight through their formation as well.

The 42nd now had their rear guard and in less than a minute the enemy bombers were under missile fire.

“Fleet reports, targeting solutions acquired, general.”

Anakin changed command frequencies, “Captains, by all means, open fire.”

In comparison to their early war cousins, the Venator IIs now featured double the amount of capital torpedo tubes.

96 torps launched immediately, followed by a two second delay as the huge internal cell drums physically cycled, to deliver another 96 until 480 heavy torpedoes ramped up to full acceleration and streaked through the void to the enemy fleet.

Immediately every fifth torpedo split apart into five individual smaller missiles and became a dedicated ECM penetration aid, spoofing sensors and generating sensor ghosts.

The Acclamators launched their torpedoes as well, adding only 80 from their much more limited launchers.

The CIS fleet responded with a counter-torpedo missile launch immediately, but curiously didn’t respond with their own torpedoes against the 42nd.

“They couldn’t have used it all up. Those torpedoes are only really useful against other large ships,” Skoll commented, folding his arms and frowning in thought.

“Unless they were sent into Republic space without heavy torpedoes in the first place. The Separatists had to know that we would eventually shut the door behind this shadow fleet. Their job was to sow chaos and uncertainty behind our lines and they’ve done that well enough. The orbital strike was their last act,” Anakin said bitterly and he gave a grim look to his fellow Jedi. “This entire battle is an execution, Skoll. This fleet has been given to us on a platter by the enemy.”

Hundreds of torpedoes made it through the Separatist outer defensive fire envelope, the ECM platforms doing their job well of causing spoofs and outright misses.

Four Munifcents and three Recuscants died almost simultaneously as the Republic torpedoes which had breached into the inner defensive perimeters did their job.

Behind the 42nd, the Hyena bombers had already been reduced to half-strength and were now completely outclassed by the more maneuverable Headhunters as dogfighting began.

He looked at the cycle countdown for the next torpedo launch - three minutes.

They’d reach gun range before then.

He brought up the fleet controls and laid in a course that would keep the 42nd in torpedo range only, skirting the enemy from their relative left to right.

“Skywalker to the fleet, hard to starboard.”

“You’re keeping it a missile and fighter duel.”

“Getting to gun range at this point is just pointlessly endangering our ships. I’ll be damned if I’m going to add more of our men to the butcher’s bill for this. Skywalker to Fleet, primary targets for next torpedo salvo are the Lucrehulks.”

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I did my best to wear a mask of enjoyment on my face.

An appropriate one to wear when surrounded by a boisterous crowd filled with privateers, militiamen, techs, mechanics and support personnel enjoying the carnival act being performed for them. On the seats directly in front of me, I kept a sharp eye on the six adepts who were thoroughly entranced by the exotic Preigo’s Travelling World of Wonder.

It was an act that was based out of a refurbished and retrofitted YV-865 Aurore-class freighter, which was hovering above the courtyard arena of Hondo’s fortress compound. Far from just being their mode of transport among the stars, it was also their stage, which rather impressively unfolded from the rear of the ship.

Dynamic colored spotlights flashed and strobed as the various acts performed for the crowd, the ship itself was decorated with every color imaginable to human and other species’ eyes.

The ringmaster was a dug by the name of Preigo, who was dressed in elaborate violet outfit, walking on his hind arms and using his front arms with a thin baton to conduct the acts happening around him.

The music was a cheerful constant jingle that was extremely pleasant on my montrals, that left me feeling quite nostalgic.

Most of the acrobatic circus troop consisted of aleena - short sentient reptiles who came in beige, blue and yellow. They were known for their nimble agility and performed dazzling maneuvers that even an Ataru form Jedi would be impressed by, especially since there wasn’t a hint of the Force in use here. The twi’lek performers were also amazing, as they had specialized repulsor belts that let them get superb hang time in the air as they twirled, spun and somersaulted off a large tamed reptilian beast that I knew came from Felucia - taking the role of a circus elephant in my eyes. 

“Welcome, welcome!” said Preigo, his voice blasted by a PA system mounted from his ship. “I, Preigo, have searched far and wide to bring you these talented acts from across the galaxy! What you see now is just a mosaic of the delights that will come your way as each artist and performer will do their own solo performance!”

Delighted cheers and clapping erupted.

“Our first act will be Fos Griss and his amazing group of aleena acrobats, utilizing only repulsor platforms and their own sheer skill!”

Most of the acts quickly and professionally retreated back into the ship, leaving a troupe of eleven aleena behind, whilst platforms began hovering off the stage and began shifting up and down rapidly like something straight out of a Jedi training arena or even a Mario game.

The jumping, twirling and acrobatics was something that even managed to capture my interest to perhaps incorporate into my own neophyte level Ataru.

“Amazing isn’t it, Commander Tano?”  

Chief Unity Yta Surdole sitting next to me looked much more composed, cleaner and still just reminded me of a farmer who had walked off his ranch to attend this celebratory victory carnival. He didn’t have a long line of staff waiting on him hand and foot, no one to boss around. He openly wore a blaster pistol in a quickdraw belt, rugged pants and tunic. The only hint that I was speaking with the head of state of an entire planet, was the old model protocol droid standing nearby and a single burly human bodyguard that looked like he could benchpress me with one arm, armor and all.  

“That it is, Chief Surdole.”

His single nostril flared slightly and he waved me off, “Please, call me Yta. I’m not in the mood for formalities at all! This is supposed to be a time where we let our manes down.” His buggy red eyes were quite expressive for not having any eyelids.

“Very well, Yta it is then.”

“I’m so glad I listened to that old pirate to invite Preigo to Ansion. This is just what my people need right now to, for a short time at least; delight and to be reminded that life is not just a constant struggle against nature and the enemies of our way.”

“Ohnaka has ridden herd on pirates in his employ for decades and is still alive,” I chuckled lightly. “So he must know a thing or two about keeping people… content. I suppose keeping his gang drunk most of the time helps too.”

The protocol droid stiffened abruptly, twitching before it waddled to the bodyguard and handed over a datapad it pulled out of a slot in its chest.

He in turn read it and I could see, even in the variable lighting, his face paling in shock. His emotions ranging from denial, disbelief before defaulting to a burning righteous fury.

“Dircud, what did I say about handing me work tonight?” Yta asked when the bodyguard approached.

“That I should not, but you have to read this, Chief!” said the 2.2 meter tall human. His deep rumbling voice just about managing to reach us over the loud music that had been building in volume, as the acrobat performance neared the end of its climax.

“Very well! Just give it!” Yta grabbed the pad. “Now some space please.”

He began reading and it didn’t take him more than a few seconds to go through the same emotional stages his bodyguard had gone through. In the end, he was just left in shock, staring mutely at the content, his eyes were almost completely black as his pupil had dilated.

“I had hoped to bring you the news after the performance, Yta,” I said bitterly, watching as the stage changed into readiness for the next act and music died down. 

“This- this- you knew?” he asked, slightly breathless.

“My master is in charge of the fleet that was hunting the now completely destroyed Separatist shadow fleet. He informed me a few hours ago.”

“And he couldn’t stop them?!”

“The 42nd arrived a few hours after the atrocity had already occurred. I don’t need to remind you, Yta, of the nature of space combat and that fleets can deny battle quite easily as long as they keep their wits about them and have a modern astrogation ability.” 

He sat back in his chair, his nostril flaring hard and dropped the pad on his lap. “Ninety million? It- doesn’t seem possible. That anyone could… just do that! From orbit with no recourse of defense possible. It’s… monstrous, cowardly!”

“Ladies and gentlebeings! Our next act, all the way from Devaron, Zer Tumos and his band will delight with their own cover of Eseerin Vasahina by The Agasar!”

The heavy drums and violin like instruments being wielded on stage by a bunch of devaronians made for a rather disturbing sight. Tumos’ voice came impressively close to matching the Agasar’s lead singer, but I could tell immediately it just… wasn’t the same. The crowd did begin to enjoy it though, after the passable quality and talent of the band began to shine.

The distraction of it was welcome but not useful.

Yta’s mouth twisted with an ugly sneer, “Wait, they were going to bombard us as well, weren’t they? It’s why you captured the battleship?”

“Your instincts serve you well, Yta,” I confirmed with a nod.

“Bah, it’s just experience in dealing with the cursed Separatists, this whole thing is their revenge against the Malarian Alliance for not seceding from the Republic! When it was their plot with that traitor Mousul that caused the whole problem in the first place!”

“I’m familiar with it Yta, my master, who was a padawan at the time, was part of the Jedi mission that foiled that plot.”

This was during the years leading up to the Clone Wars, when the Separatists were subtly trying to lay the foundation for the secession of many key worlds, using the proxies of the Trade Federation and Commerce Guild to foment crises and revolts.  

In Ansion’s case, it was the Commerce Guild President Shu Mai who had wanted Ansion to secede, causing a domino effect which would also cause the worlds of the Malarian Alliance to also leave.  

Yta’s eyes glared at the lively band, before he leaned forward in his seat and bowed his head briefly to me. “That means, Commander, you’re the only reason the majority of the people on this planet aren't currently ash in the wind. You didn’t even say anything… which I suppose is typical of Jedi. You deserve far more than just the paltry medal ceremony we gave you on the Bloodmaul.”

“It’s my duty as a Jedi, Yta,” I shook my head. “I have no need of further accolades or material gain from Ansion. The Separatist attack did relatively light damage to Ansion’s capital, but you still have rebuilding and repair work ahead of you. Keitum is going to need all the help it can get from the worlds of the Alliance.”

“And it will get it,” he snarled with determination, thumping his fist on the armrest of his seat. “If I have to drag the other Alliance leaders there kicking and screaming, I will!”

I was impressed by his gritty attitude and the Ansion spirit was clearly something of a force in itself. It made sense in retrospect why the planet was targeted now.

“The Republic Navy’s 42nd fleet will remain in orbit for relief work as long as it can, but they’re not really equipped for it. The Jedi Council will likely order a dedicated recovery and rebuild mission to Keitum, but it will take at least three weeks to organize the logistics for any meaningful relief effort.”

He held up a hand, “I understand, commander. Ansion and the Malarian Alliance will do everything we can to make up the gap. We’re not about to leave a treaty partner to bleed out on our watch. Then we must discuss just what we’re going to do about the Separatists. My people will not be content to just sit back and let the Republic do all the work anymore, commander. I want to shove my blaster up Dooku’s backside and pull the trigger!”

It took considerable effort to not burst into laughter at the mental image that provoked.

“Then there’s much we have to discuss, Yta.”

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A/N: Yeah, the fallout of this is not gonna be fun in many respects.

Hope you enjoyed and have a great weekend. Stay awesome folks.