Defense Minister Onov Shyle slammed a fist into the holotable. "We just barely have enough forces to repel this invasion," he said to Mon Calamari Admiral Arikakon Baraka of the Republic Navy. "We need reinforcements!"
Jyvus City's comm specialist had managed to momentarily break through the communication block the Separatists had put over Duro and Jyvus. Shyle wasn't sure how long he had, and already, Baraka's image was fizzing and wavering.
"We are sending what help we can spare, Defense Minister. The Jedi are leading two squadrons of V-19 Torrents as we speak. But the Separatists have also launched campaigns against Kuat and Nubia, which are the closest systems to offer support of the capital ship-class variety," Baraka said apologetically.
"Those are just diversions to keep reinforcements away from Duro!" snarled Shyle.
"Maybe. But that does not diminish the threat they pose in the slightest!" What the admiral said next was lost as his image wavered and almost went out.
"What's going on?"Shyle shouted to the crew behind him.
"The Separatists have located the hole we've punched in their dampening blanket. They're trying to knit it back up," said a frenzied tech.
The admiral's image fizzed and winked out.
Shyle cursed viciously in his native tongue.
"Admiral, news from the front," said his aide.
Shyle whirled around. "More good news?" he said in anger and hopelessness.
"Yes sir, the bombing runs worked. The light destroyer and one of the frigates have been destroyed. The other is dead in the water."
Shyle smiled. "Wonderful!"
"But," continued his aide, "the frigates' and destroyer's mission proved to be a distraction from what the main body of the fleet was doing. The fleet has broken up into two heavy flotillas and are attempting to go around our Defense Platforms."
Shyle's nose-less face darkened. "So they won't have to go between the two and get pulverized from either side. Over my dead body. I want every fight-worthy craft out there now. Herd the Separatist fleet through the space between the two Golans. Or better yet, if we can flank the Seppies, we can trap them between our fleet and the Golans."
"The Separatists would never let us flank them, Minister," his aide said doubtfully.
"Well, let's worry about herding them between the Platforms. We'll go from there. Relay my orders to all our forces, we may win this yet."
Jez's eyes snapped open and looked right into the "T" visor of a clone trooper's helmet. He felt the muzzle of a blaster rifle in his gut.
"We're just trying to get out of here," he heard Tip plead with the clone.
"Trooper," said a Duros voice, "release that man. It goes against everything I believe in to turn down people in desperate need of help." The clone stepped back, allowing Jez a view of the group surrounding them.
Chief Representative Hoolidan Keggle stepped forward. "Are you all right, sir?"
"Excuse me, sir?" said another Duros in a Duro Security Force dress. "We can't do that. We're not sure where this man and his group's allegiances lie. We were just in a firefight with them for-"
Keggle whirled on him. "Do you question the order from the Chief Representative?"
Another Duro, an aide, spoke up to. "Sir, please! They could be with the Trehalt Allegiance!"
"Rasperton," Keggle reasoned, "all Allegiance members we've encountered so far have been Duros. What business would three humans and a Chadra-Fan have in Duros affairs? As for the firefight—we shot first. How was he and his companions to know that we're the Cabinet and trying to escape? They saw only clone troopers and ran to us for help. Instead, we opened fire on him. They defended themselves." Keggle said, putting some of those good old reasoning and persuading skills that politicians seemed to master to use.
Rasperton and the security man reluctantly let the matter be, glaring at Jez and his companions. Keggle turned back to Jez and helped him to his feet, almost giving the security forces cardiac arrest. "Are you alright?"the Duros asked genuinely.
Jez nodded, eyes wide, head pounding.. "Thank you, Chief Keggle," Jez said.
Keggle turned to one of the troopers. "Dress that man's wound."
"But sir-"
"I won't go anywhere until his wound is patched up." Keggle stood in defiance to his aides and the security force's better judgment.
Jez, even in his weakened, head-ached state, immediately liked the Duro.
A few yards away, Misty and Hazel were clutching to each other, Tip slightly before them in as protective a pose as he could strike.
Tip skittered forward hesitantly to Jez as the clone medic bandaged his upper bicep.
"Very well," Keggle said when the medic stepped away from Jez. "Let's get moving."
Something was wrong.
Noona had just escorted the bombers to the edge of the fighting zone when the order came in.
"Fang Squadron, form up," she said into her comm. She glanced out her canopy and saw that indeed the Separatist fleet was breaking up into two elements, attempting to skirt and go around the Golan Platforms. Over her dead body.
The Dreadnaughts were staying where they were: about a dozen kilometers before the Platforms and in the middle of the Hell Path, what they'd deemed the vector they wanted the Separatists to take down the middle between the Golans where the Platforms' guns could chew them up.
But something was wrong.
Through her own instincts and the Force, she knew something was not right here.
Before she could continue her train of thought, though-
"Commander Qolid," crackled the voice of Captain Anders, "Victory here. Form up on us, we're taking the leftmost battle group."
Noona's mouth fell open in a Mon Cal smile. A Victory-class Star Destroyer had more than enough firepower to take out a few of the best in the Confederate Navy.
"For up with the fighter groups from Anvil and Coronet," he said, referring to the Assault Ships that made up the Victory's small flotilla. It may have been a small group, but the combined might of the Assault Ships and Star Destroyer may have been efficient enough to halt the Separatist flotilla off and force it back into taking the Hell Path.
Noona glanced at her tactical readout, the feeling that something was out of place gnawing at her.
The Victory, Anvil, and Coronet were the only ships being sent to deal with the leftmost battle group, while the remaining three Assault Ship and the free Dreadnaught were going after the rightmost group. A change occurred, and the two Dreadnaughts that had been guarding the Hell Path split off, one moving for the latter Republic flotilla, and the other moving to the Victory's flotilla.
All the capital ships in the Duros system were now tied up in this single push. If they lost even one, it could mean the end of the battle then and there.
But why had the Separatist fleet waited so long to make a move? Why wait, and let the Republic forces catch their breath and regroup?
"Fang Lead," said a voice from her speakers. "Jyvus Fighter Control here. We're going to reinforce your squadron with three fighters. Standby."
Noona glanced again at her tactical display. She saw three blue blips approaching on an intercept course with her squadron. "V-Wings," Noona said softly, impressed. V-Wings were relatively new to the war, but extremely deadly. Moving as fast as her Jedi Interceptor and packing as much punch as one of the ARCs, they were certainly a force to be reckoned with.
They streaked into formation with her squadron. "V-Wings standing by for your order, Lead," said a clone's voice from the speaker. Noona turned her comlink over to a different freq. "Deuce, you want to take the new arrivals?"
"Certainly, Lead," said the Duro.
She switched back to the V-Wings' frequency. "You'll be in Flight Two, boys, form up with Deuce. And thanks."
"As ordered, Commander."
She looked again at her tactical screen. All friendly capital ships were being devoted to this push, she repeated to herself.
The only reason she could discern for the Confederacy waiting so long was to intentionally let the Duro space forces catch their collective breath, and devote all their resources to attacking them.
Which was suicide on the Confederacy's part, practically. Everyone knew that in space combat, the element of surprise was a commander's most valued ally.
The Separatists had certainly garnered that element, but did not immediately strike with their heavy hitters. Sure, the fighters had done a good job of punching a hole through their outer defenses, but if the capital ships had reinforced them, Noona wasn't sure the defense forces could have stopped them from getting past the mid-defense line.
This group's purpose was to draw the Republic forces in, away from Jyvus. Which could only mean one thing.
There was another Separatist fleet coming to Duro.
"Arseven!" she snapped to her droid. "Call Minister Shyle!"
A few minutes later: "Commander?"
She laid out her train of thought to him, growing uneasier by the second and more certain that this was the course of action the Confederacy was going to take.
Silence on the other end as she finished her thought. "Well, damn," he swore viciously. "You can't be sure of this, though."
"I don't have to be sure about this, Defense Minister. The facts are right before our very eyes! Whether we decide to act on them or not is completely up to you!"
She knew they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. They couldn't very well pull capital ships back from the offense they were leading now: they needed those ships to repel the Separatist fleet that was already in Duro space. If they tried to pull one or two ships off the defense line and back to Jyvus, the Seppies may very well break through the weakened defense screen.
Then again, if there was another Confederacy fleet coming to Duro, one or two capital ships stationed at Jyvus wouldn't make a heck of a whole lot of difference anyway.
They were stuck. The best they could do was fortify their bases and ride out the Separatist attacks until help arrived. She said as much to Shyle.
"Can't do, Commander. We have to at least try repel them," he responded.
Noona sighed. "I'm not saying we shouldn't, Minister."
"I'll consider our options and get in contact with your Master and the leaders dirt-side. I'll get back to you."
Noona acknowledged him and signed off.
She only hoped they had that long.
A/N: Today's a good day for our nation. Osama Bin Laden is dead. Too bad all the pain and suffering he has caused couldn't have happened in a fictional world such as Star Wars. Keep the families of his victims in your thoughts and prayers.
And let's be glad we all have a world to escape to—Star Wars!—when the real world gets too crazy to deal with.
As always, may God—and the Force—be with us.
Please keep on reading and reviewing. Thanks so much.
-Lord Duro~