Sublight Drive (Star Wars)

Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Sullust Libration Point ‘L5’, Sullust System

Brema Sector

At last, Kendal Ozzel thought, nervous despite himself, the Hydra awakes. Taskforce Conciliator’s lines had been disturbed by a burst of hyperwave communications from the galactic south, which they had partially intercepted via Sullust’s captured satellites. Not an hour later, the Separatist fleet stirred in its stone nest, like a beast awakening from its dormant slumber.

Commodore Ozzel stood aboard the Star Destroyer Imperious, a sense of unease coiling around his chest like a great snake, as the Perlemian Coalition’s Armada advanced. Two-hundred assorted warships streamed from the pores of the asteroid belt, like rivulets converging onto a silent curtain, sweeping off the star system as if it were a pre-set stage. The seventy-nine starships of Taskforce Conciliator moved to meet them as they recalled their starfighter wings from across the star system, the last two remaining Tectors of the fleet stationed dead centre of the formation as it stretched into a forward chevron.

Five-hundred thousand klicks away, a single, unified thought passed through the minds of all two-hundred captains of the 28th Mobile Fleet, droid and organic alike. The Rear Admiral’s standing orders were clear and explicit; follow the ship in front of you.

The command was as simple as they came, leaving no room for misinterpretation. After all, every captain worth their Hex could handle a task as simple as maintaining a safe distance between their allies, and the officers of the Perlemian Coalition were all veterans of some of the toughest battles of the Clone Wars.

Follow the ship in front of you.

Those words echoed through two-hundred minds over and over as two-hundred ships converged into a single column in line ahead, bearing perpendicular to their enemy. The Separatists achieved their formation perfectly, wordlessly, with not a single stray tightbeam caught by the enemy, because there was none.

There was an urgency in the Separatist ranks, an anxious eagerness to sweep up this battle as promptly as possible. They had, after all, been informed that the Anakin Skywalker was enroute with three-hundred warships of the Open Circle Fleet. On the other side, however, one could also imagine the Hero With No Fear, standing upon the bridge of his flagship Harbinger, clenching and unclenching his fist as he silently urged his fleet to hurry up. To hurry up and reach Sullust in time. Alas, he could only stare blankly into the blurred, passing motions of hyperspace, stewing in his own restlessness.

The stars would cross his viewports with the passing of time, blinking mercilessly.

⁂

An impossibly long pause settled between the two fleets, located in the exact same patch of space as they did six battles ago. This was to be their seventh. Kendal Ozzel shifted his balance from foot to foot, wondering what the usually decisive General Rees Alrix was waiting for.

Unbeknownst to him, his Jedi General was nursing a great pain. The Force flexed and shuddered in unnatural ways, contorting as it conveyed the agonising swell of twenty-two billion souls. Merely 500 parsecs south, the world was ending, bathed and bleached under a storm of brimstone. But Rees Alrix was stronger than that, she partitioned her mindscape, and shut away the distracting pain with lock and key. And her vision cleared, and she saw the bright flames in the Force once more.

From the far right wing of the Republic formation, fleet flagship Resilient opened a corridor for transmission. And just as the Jedi General raised her hand to give the order to charge–

The leading ship of the line of the Separatist formation surged forwards, sweeping towards the Republic left. Alrix’s hand froze midair as the fires swelled and disappeared, vulnerabilities in the enemy formation changing imperceptibly to all but herself. Ozzel immediately ordered for a full identification of the offending Separatist warship.

Providence-class carrier-destroyer Chimeratica, built in the orbital shipyards of Ringo Vinda.

After a brief moment’s hesitation, the next ship of the line, the battlecruiser Weisser Sand, launched its great mass after the Chimeratica, followed by the frigate Centaur, and the next–until the entire Separatist battle line was shifting towards the Republic left. Loyalist captains could only look on in anticipation at their opponent’s action. Just as a hundred and thirty-three hours ago, the Separatist auxiliaries were placed within the asteroid field, many million kilometres behind. Should the Separatist fleet continue their perpendicular strafe, the vector ahead will open up.

This had to be some sort of trap, they all thought.

They remained transfixed, nerves frayed, as Chimeratica turned hard to portside, following a natural, imaginary curve that rotated her bearing by 180 degrees, until she had settled on a reciprocal course back towards the Republic right. Obediently adhering to their standing orders, one by one the ships behind her turned and followed her, creating a double-ranked line before the Republic line.

Minutes later, just as she reached Taskforce Conciliator’s absolute right wing, opposite Resilient, and Chimeratica banked portside once again, until she doubled back onto her original vector. Anticipation transformed into bewilderment as Kendal Ozzel and his staff observed the Separatist manoeuvres. The enemy battle line had now transformed into a squashed, conveyor belt-like shape. This wasn’t any tactic ever used before, and it could hardly be called a formation at all.

The lead ship, Chimeratica, burned harder, until her bow had caught up with the last Separatist ship of the line, the battlecruiser Feranmut. But as she burned harder, so did Weisser Sand behind her, and Centaur behind her, until the unspoken order fell down the chain like a wave through a whipped rope, until Feranmust also sped up. And when Feranmust sped up, so did Chimeratica to keep pace.

Thus the formation became a snake eating its own tail, as the ship at the head increased its velocity, so did the entire body, forcing the head to speed up again. But there was seemingly one key oversight–the reason why this so-called ‘formation’ and all formations like it were never used before; it was unsustainable.

Every warship in the fleet was of a different size. Every warship in the fleet possessed different turning radii, and different acceleration and thus different velocities. Every warship in the fleet possessed different drive ratings, and some were unable to keep pace with the rest of the fleet, while others raced ahead. Order and discipline never lasts long within constantly evolving formations, and especially not when there was absolutely no communication between captains.

And as expected, the formation began to break down. As every captain struggled to avoid collisions, the single-file line began to fall apart. Fast cruisers were forced to swerve to avoid the slow battleships in front of them, just as frigates took evasive action before cruisers before them. As lumbering dreadnoughts pushed their etheric rudders to their extremes, they were still unable to attend the sharp turning circles at the end of the conveyor belt, and adopted shallower turns instead. Some followed those adapted turns, others couldn’t afford to.

Taskforce Conciliator watched as the Separatists fell into chaos, the lead ship Chimeratica melting into the turmoil. ‘Follow the ship in front of you’ became meaningless as the ship in front you changed with every blink–but the Separatist captains nevertheless did so to the best of their ability, while expending admirable effort to avoid colliding with each other in the whirlwind of battle steel. And as they picked up pace, pseudo-forces stretched the conveyor belt, forcing shallower and shallower turns, until the entire formation existed within a single revolving circle–like a mammoth whirlpool deep in the void.

⁂

Aboard the Imperious, Kendal Ozzel observed the unfolding formation through the lens of his Star Destroyer’s scopes. The individual drive cones of each enemy warship had since blurred away into a brilliant, flat, torus-shape–and as the formation only picked up speed, it was soon near-impossible for his scanners to fix on any specific contact without a blind toss, much less accurately target hardpoints. They no longer knew where the enemy line of battle began, and where it ended.

In fact, not even the Separatists themselves knew where their own battle line started and ended. All they had on their minds was to keep following the ship before them–no matter how many times it changed–and avoid smashing into the ship next to them. Indeed, for the Separatist captain, this was a marathon with no time to breathe. Any hiccup, any break in the rhythm, any singular mistake could result in them crashing into their allies, and creating a chain reaction that would have the entire 28th Mobile Fleet collapse in on itself.

But for Kendal Ozzel, he saw something different. This formation reminded him of something curious that used to fascinate him when he was still a child. As the minutes ticked away with no signs of the enemy formation changing, his suspicions only deepened.

This looks like an ant mill, he confirmed to himself.Known as a death spiral, or a death march, it occurs when a swarm intelligence such as ants loses their pheromone track whilst on the march, and end up following each other in a continuously revolving circle. Sooner or later, if there is no interruption in the death spiral, they would die of exhaustion.

Ozzel looked at the spiral on the holodisplays again, and transferred the data to the combat information centre. The processed data that returned made him smile in disbelief. It was certain then, that if the Separatists didn't break out of their death spiral sooner than later, all it would take is one trip-up to create a chain reaction of collisions.

But there was a second development he noticed as well, one that turned his smile into a worried frown.

“They’re coming towards us,” Ozzel said aloud.

“Sir?” his XO asked.

The Commodore handed the captain his tablet, “Despite being in a death spiral, they are still headed in our direction.”

To prove his point, Ozzel ordered his sensor officers to tag a single ship and observe its displacement across a single rotation of the spiral. Should it be a stationary rotation, the ultimate displacement of the ship should be zero–as the tag would end up in the same place from which it began. Instead, just as Ozzel initially observed, the tag would be displaced towards the Republic’s lines by around a thousand klicks every rotation, consistently, without fail.

The only question was: is it intentional?

⁂

Aboard the Resilient, Rees Alrix knew it was intentional. She knew it not because she recognised a formation that doesn’t exist, but out of instinct alone. Rees Alrix never studied the naval arts, she never cared to memorise the tactics and stratagems the Republic Navy relearned after dusting off ancient databanks. A blazing fire in her mind’s eye, she only trusted in her gut feeling, and the Force that drove it.

Unlike Ozzel, she did not see a death spiral, she saw the hydra’s nest, its many heads laying in wait for them to make but a single mistake. She knew the steady advance of the steel hurricane was intentional precisely because she looked–and found no single vulnerability. She wanted nothing more than to recall the name of her opponent at that very moment, but their name slid through her fingers like sand.

In their place, she remembered a cognomen she overheard from two spacers in the mess hall– so this is the man they call the Battle Hydra...

⁂

Rear Admiral Rain Bonteri watched in satisfaction from the bridge of his flagship, as the cyclone continued to pick up speed. Riding lights and brilliant plumes of ion gases smeared into a blur, until individual ships were no more differentiated than minnows in a raging school of fish, or raindrops in the eye of a typhoon. Carefully, his personal squadron dispersed throughout the whirlwind would nudge just a bit further towards the Republic lines, and with each rotation, the whole fleet would unknowingly shift with them, like a responsive hivemind.

Just as Rees Alrix experimented on how to defeat the 28th Mobile Fleet over the last five days, so did Rain Bonteri experimented on how to defeat Taskforce Conciliator. After six separate engagements, he had finally placed his finger on the pulse of her ability.

Rees Alrix finds weaknesses. Just as a trained duellist could find an opening in their opponent’s guard, Rees Alrix could do the same with the Force alone. It didn’t matter if the formation he used was simple, or complicated, or anything in between; Rees Alrix would sniff out the slightest opening without fail. A truly unfair ability, was it not?

But fleet warfare was no simple game. A duel could end in seconds, but a naval battle never will. A fleet formation could bear one weak link, or a hundred. Did the Force show only the weakest link, then, or all hundred? If it showed only the weakest, did it account for all future moves as well, as a chess computer would? Would that not be precognition?

So Rain Bonteri experimented. Over five days, he deployed numerous formations against Rees Alrix, gauging her reaction as he gauged his, observing which intended vulnerabilities she exploited, and which she ignored. And Rees Alrix would always, without fail, wait for him to finalise the translation of his formations before attacking. She would always wait for a static enemy before deciding to attack.

And that’s when he understood; the Force revealed all weaknesses.

So instead of trying to outplay this terrible, unfair ability called the Force–he would beat it at its own game. Over his year-long career in the Confederate Navy, Rain Bonteri had only ever faced one formation that he could not find any exploitable vulnerabilities in–

Jedi Master Plo Koon’s revolving arrowhead.

It was the one tactic no normal commander could ever hope to overcome, on the basis that it was a tactic that existed so far outside the current era’s technological and tactical capabilities to reproduce without the employment of supernatural means. Though he wouldn’t know the exact parlance, said supernatural means was known to the Jedi Order as battle meditation.

By creating an all-encompassing bubble of the Force in which every captain, officer, and spacer existed, a Jedi General could coordinate entire fleets of ships and have them operate at maximum efficiency. Battle meditation enhanced morale, stamina, cognitive ability, reaction time, and even chain together millions of minds to act as a single entity. It made impossible tactics and formations, such as the revolving arrowhead, possible. A truly unfair ability, was it not?

Rain Bonteri strived to prove one could recreate such an effect without the cosmic sorcery. He was in battle, not against Rees Alrix, but against the Force itself. He was embarking on a personal crusade to strip away the exclusivity of the Force and prove that he could achieve what many scholars believe to be exclusive capability of the intangible being of the universe itself, with nothing more than collective human spite and sheer will.

Rees Alrix and Republic hadn’t realised it, but they were observing how the Separatists achieved a primitive form of the battle meditation utilised by the Jedi Masters, not through any complicated or esoteric means, but by enforcing a singular, overriding state of mind. By issuing a single standing order and leading his entire fleet into a death spiral in which it only took a single mistake to kill them all, Rain Bonteri successfully created a hivemind not dissimilar to the effects of battle meditation. Unlike battle meditation, however, which could control the hivemind at will, the spiral’s hivemind was only capable of a single thought–

Follow the ship in front of you, and don’t crash.

But that was enough.

That had to be enough.

Because this death spiral was a product of two traits you couldn’t find in any other fleet.

First was an absolute and unshakable trust in their commanding officer, among the captains and crews of the fleet. During the brief strategy meeting, Asajj Ventress was concerned whether the 28th Mobile Fleet could trust their Admiral enough to follow through with a plan they knew nothing about.

But she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there on the Perlemian Front. She wasn’t there, fighting a hundred desperate battles to slow the unstoppable advance of the Grand Army of the Republic. She wasn’t there at Centares, where the spirit of the Perlemian Coalition was broken. And she wasn’t there at Columex, where a single man brought the spirit of the Perlemian Coalition back from the brink, and then broke the back of the Republic.

“That’s not an intercept vector,” Ozzel stumbled backwards, panic forcing open his eyes, “They’re on a collision course! Helmsman, take evasive action! HARD RIGHT, HARD OVER!”

Imperious violently swung to the right so suddenly her inertial compensators barely had enough time to adapt to the change. The lucky spacers were thrown off their feet and onto the polished metal floor, while the unluckier ones slammed against the walls, into corners, or crushed by unsecured ordnance and skidding starfighters.

The manoeuvre was made just in time. Not a moment later, the second head of the Hydra blasted through the empty space where the Imperious would have been, gnashing its teeth at a failed kill. Since only Dark Rival received the command package, all the warships behind her were still operating under the standing order of ‘follow the ship in front of you.’ In this way, Ventress had inadvertently commandeered just under three-fourths of the 28th Mobile Fleet, leading them through the Republic line of battle.

Kendal Ozzel observed the deteriorating situation in a frenzied haze. Imperious, along with the half of Taskforce Conciliator behind it, had been effectively cut off from their flagship. All communications were being jammed by the enemy; they were isolated, alone, and about to be trapped. With this in mind, Ozzel made the fateful decision as the ranking officer of his division; all ships, retreat! Escape the encirclement!

Unfortunately for him, Asajj Ventress was out for blood and vengeance. Dark Rival turned starboard to meet Imperious, effectively creating a ‘hook’ and forcing Imperious to travel reciprocally back down the Republic line. The two warships exchanged broadsides, hastily producing firing solutions on myriad hardpoints, casemates, and weakpoints in the other’s shells, and pumping each other full of tibanna gas and proton torpedoes. Missiles flailed against shimmering shields, pinions of energy melting hull plating into gold liquid that rapidly cooled and blackened within seconds.

It was at this crucial juncture that the last two ships received their orders.

⁂

TO KRONPRINZ: INTERCEPT AND DESTROY HOSTILE CONTACT ‘RESILIENT.’ OVER.

Commodore Diedrich Greyshade stared at the single sentence with disbelief. His ship, the Tionese battlecruiser Kronprinz, had just followed the Dark Rival across the Republic line of battle. He looked to the right, where he could see Ventress’ ship locking horns with Imperious, the two doonium giants leading their divisions in a brutal struggle that would only end when one of them was dead.

Then he looked to the left, where he could see straight down the rear end of Taskforce Conciliator’s forward half, the ice-blue glow of Resilient all the way at the end. Over there, Chimeratica was hammering Alrix from their portside–and then he understood. Should Kronprinz manage to reach Resilient’s starboard beam, the entire forward half of Taskforce Conciliator would be sandwiched between them.

No normal ship could reach Chimeratica and Resilient in any reasonable timeframe from so far away. But Kronprinz was no normal ship. She was a Tionese battlecruiser, and with solar wind in her sails, there was no warship in the galaxy she could not outpace. Diedrich took a cursory glance at the location of the sun, confirming what he already knew. Since the 28th Mobile was approaching from the Sululluub Asteroid Field, which was starward of Sullust, they had the solar wind at their backs.

The reserved Diedrich Greyshade grinned like a proud father.

“And that’s all we need,” he said aloud, catching the attention of his bridge crew, “...All hands! Helmsman, hundred-and-ten degree port turn and meet her there! Extend all solar sails, catch that wind boys! Prepare portside casemates, I want us right next to Alrix in ten minutes!”

Once again, maintaining the standing order of ‘follow the ship in front of you,’ the battlecruiser Kronprinz split off with half of the 28th Mobile at her back, leaving Ventress and Dark Rival alone with a quarter of the fleet–nearly fifty warships–to battle the rear half of Taskforce Conciliator, which boasted thirty-nine ships.

⁂

Commodore Vinoc upon the Providence Crying Sun recognised this from behind Kronprinz, that despite barely outnumbering Ozzel, Ventress in actuality commanded less tonnage and starfighters than Ozzel. In close quarters combat such as this, the Star Destroyers of Taskforce Conciliator would ultimately come out on top. Just as Crying Sun moved to trace the Separatist battle line through the Republic’s shattered line, Vinoc’s holoscreen chimed.

TO CRYING SUN: STARBOARD TURN AND ANNIHILATE ALL HOSTILES. OVER.

It was as if his mind was read... or was this all planned from the beginning? Vinoc did not know which possibility awed him, or terrified him, more.

“Ninety-degree turn to starboard,” he commanded.

His tactical droid, TJ-912, protested, “Our turning radius at this velocity is too shallow. Calculations project collision with Republic vessels–”

“Failure to obey orders from the commanding officer of the fleet will result in you getting reprogrammed,” Vinoc reminded dryly.

“–Ninety-degree turn to starboard! Meet her parallel to the Repubic line!” TJ-912 relayed the command so forcefully she nearly smacked the helmsdroid while doing so.

The third head of the Hydra howled, sublight drives, attitude thrusters, and etheric rudders all working in tandem to sharpen the curve of Crying Sun’s turn as much as possible. And even as she did, TJ-912’s calculations were proven correct when Crying Sun levelled straight onto a Venator’s inbound vector. The Venator, unwilling to ram, banked hard to starboard in turn. The two warships scraped along the other’s beam, the crunch and tear of stringers and stiffeners shuddering through both ships as torpedoes and laser bolts whipping out at point blank range.

Nevertheless, the turn was completed, albeit by the paint of one’s hull, and now Crying Sun and the remaining quarter of the 28th Mobile Fleet had trapped Imperious on three sides. Similarly, Chimeratica and Kronprinz had successfully flanked Resilient both port and starboard. With the two halves of Alrix’s fleet completely surrounded, velocities matched and unabating fusillades hammering out into the smoke-filled void, the fate of the Taskforce Conciliator has been sealed.

Their grave would be a cold, lonely patch of space somewhere in the middle of the Sullust Star System.

⁂

But for Rees Alrix, the battle was not yet over. She was a Jedi Knight, and despite losing contact with half of her fleet, she would not abandon hope so easily. No, not even as Resilient was smashed against both flanks, as one by one the friendly contacts on the holos disappeared. silently, or in great conflagrations of gas and cinder and slagged steel. Not even as her crew sunk into silent acceptance, that their once-unstoppable conquest of the Rimma Trade Route has come to an end. Because she could still escape and regroup with other Republic squadrons in the region, the only question that remained was in which direction to escape in?

The north seemed like an obvious answer. Unfortunately, the star of Sullust was in her way. That left one direction; south. She knew Eriadu was lost, in her heart of hearts. The silent roar of the Force was unmistakable, like a billions upon billions of lives burning in the pits of the Nine Hells. But she was not an empath, as many of her friends and peers were, and empathic connection was not her forte. If it was, Alrix would already be lost to the Force.

But that didn’t mean she was not without allies in the south. Governor-General Teshik was still campaigning against Separatist fleets in the Seswenna Sector, and if she could reach him, they could sweep back north together. All she had to do was break through the Separatist line of battle.

So Rees Alrix fell back on the one ability she trusted her life with, and searched for the fire in the Force. All she needed was a spark, one that could set the enemy line ablaze.

To her starboard, there were several, but none large enough to ignite fully, not with that persistent Tionese sailboat matching them shot for shot. To her portside, however...

There were three Munificent-class frigates, half a dozen positions aft of Chimeratica.

Repulse, Renown, and Revenge.

She recognised them as the handful of frigates that beat back Ozzel’s rampage two days ago, saving much of their fleet at the cost of their own. Not only that, Repulse was the flagship of the Separatist admiral! Even now, Alrix could only consider them broken, pitiful things, barely worthy of being called ‘warships.’ In fact, they were hardly firing at all, with many of their turbolaser batteries having been shorn off during their battle with Imperious and its Tectors. And the fire in the Force–it was already a great conflagration, and frustrated by tiny, fleeting embers until now, Alrix instinctively, unknowingly, found herself drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

“We will break through the enemy lines right there,” Alrix felt the target through the Force, the correct time and place to pierce the armour, “Then, plot a hyperjump to the Uvena System, where we will rendezvous with General Teshik.”

“Yes, sir!” a chorus of affirmation resounded from her crew.

“Inform all ships,” she blasted out orders, “And transfer all power to the shields. Hard left, hard over!”

Resilient swung around, dodging a fusillade of torpedoes aimed for her thrusters as she did, leading the remainder of the Taskforce Conciliator straight into the three crippled frigates–and barely slowed down as she blasted straight through them. Repulse snapped in half under a hail of blue pinions while a squadron of ARC-170s unleashed a chain of torpedoes that vapourized Revenge’s spine, and Renown... the Star Destroyer Resilient rammed straight into Renown, shattering the frigate as superheavy turbolasers thundered off round after round into her maimed husk until, that was left were miniscule pieces of debris no larger than flakes, and the lifeless bodies of battle droids drifting out of the punctured hull.

And as Resilient emerged on the other side– she came face to face with the fourth head of the Hydra; the eleven fresh warships of Horgo Shive, who had taken a long detour around the battlefield to remain out of Alrix’s sightlines, bearing down upon them. Just as the Muun had predicted hours in advance, his prey was not only waiting for him, but so graciously sailing straight into his maw.

Horgo Shive looked at the battered and spent countenance of Resilient and the Venators close behind her, with their empty hangars, overheating guns, overloaded shields and cracked armour–then looked at his own ships, yet untouched by battle. This won’t even be a fight.

He gave the order; “Destroy them.”

In the span of seconds, from the moment a great bolt of red flashed from the enemy destroyer’s jaws to the moment Resilient was disintegrated by enough firepower to melt a small moon, Rees Alrix wondered; where had she gone wrong? She did as the Force told her, and yet... and yet...

In those precious few moments, her eyes flitted from place to place, instinctively searching for another flame. But there were none. Not on the Chimeratica, sailing away. Not on the Havoc, bearing right down on her. Not in the enemy battle line she had just smashed through. The flame... was right on top of her.

Did she lose the moment she decided to attack the Repulse? Or did she lose by deciding to meet the Separatist offensive? Or was it from the beginning, when she refused to withdraw from Sullust? Or... did she lose from the moment she declined Anakin Skywalker’s help? If he was here, and not rushing to her aid at this moment, could the Chosen One have prevailed?

It is so unfair, Rees Alrix lamented. She conquered the Rimma. She prevailed against the odds where the arrogant bastards on the Perlemian failed. She achieved what everybody thought was impossible. The Hundred Days Offensive was her achievement! And what, the Council wanted her to hand everything she won to the Chosen One? Alrix just knew the moment the Open Circle Fleet arrived, the Republic would praise that upstart’s infuriating name to the skies above Coruscant, while her own was lapsed.

And yet, that might happen anyway, as Skywalker warred against time. Could he even beat the Battle Hydra, the great bane of the Jedi that has trounced him not once, but twice? Of course he could, he was the Chosen One, after all. She was sick of hearing that damned title.

So, so unfair.

But Rees Alrix was a Jedi Knight.

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is only the Force.

There is the Force... and here there isn’t. A vulnerability that escaped her attention. It was not in the ranks of her own formation, or her fateful decisions. It was a vulnerability in the Force itself, an impenetrable void that she could not have accounted for. At the precipice of her life, she finally saw it, felt it. It burned like a fire on her skin, and around her.

I’ve got you now, Hydra.

If she could not defeat the monster, then at least she could lend Skywalker a helping hand. Rees Alrix reached towards the great blaze burning upon her, throwing in her own spirit to fuel the fire until someone found it. Appreciate my dying breath, Chosen One.

No, there is no death.

The Hydra’s jaw clamped down.

Rees Alrix closed her eyes, and revelled like a fire in the Force.

⁂

From the bridge of the carrier-destroyer Chimeratica, Rear Admiral Rain Bonteri watched the last remaining warships of Rees Alrix be devoured entirely, and ticked off the last square in his checklist, concluding the battle.

Preliminary casualties report the 28th Mobile Fleet lost as many as seventeen warships, with another two-dozen badly damaged. Taskforce Conciliator lost all seventy-nine remaining warships.

It has been one-hundred and thirty-five hours since the 1st Skirmish at Sullust. Sev’rance Tann’s prediction had been correct; from the moment the 28th Mobile Fleet was given the order to advance, it took only four hours to completely annihilate their Rees Alrix’s fleet. The Republic would not find out about the defeat until three days later, when Anakin Skywalker’s Open Circle Fleet arrived at the Sullust System to find nothing but orbital debris, and no sign of either fleet.

Within hours of their arrival, the Open Circle Fleet would receive harrowing news; Eriadu had been glassed, and General Horn Ambigene’s 4th Fleet Group was advancing up the Rimma Trade Route en masse with 1,500 warships.