o.o.o.o.o
Burukt Los'ean
Los'morut, Los'shtarn, Krant
Burukt Los'ean idly sipped his caf as he stared out the window of house Los'ean's family stronghold Los'morut.
Equal parts mansion and fortress, it occupied a strategic position like any good Mandalorian stronghold.
One with an impressive view Burukt noted as he looked over the bustling city of Los'shtarn, founded by the family and its allied minor houses six centuries ago.
What a difference six centuries and a lot of investment made to differentiate the metropolis from the small town it had once been.
Holding a strategic location on the coast near two major rivers on the Silber Continent, Los'shtarn was a vital agricultural and industrial center. And was designed to reflect that reality.
It was Mandalorian style city planning at its finest, even if Mandalorians generally avoided settling down in one place, which was ironically their greatest strength and weakness culturally.
The only thing he personally found lacking was internal defensive gun turrets beyond AA emplacements.
A few military bases combined with the fact that everything up to anti-tank ordnance was common enough among the populace to make any push into the city utter hell, more than made up for that.
He exhaled softly as one of his wives, Senar, walked up and sat down next to him on the sofa. ["You've been sitting there for a while dear."] She told him in Aean's internal Mando'a-Bothese creole.
Burukt turned to face her and gently wrapped an arm around her waist. ["I've been thinking…"]
["About Kelia? Ginir told us that's been on your mind for a while."]
He shook his head. ["About her, about Cath, about the stupidity involving the Torolis Bothans… I'm an administrator, not someone good with politics like Uvesk or any of our children. Never was."]
Burukt loved all of his children, but he knew that most of his sons and daughters, the oldest of whom were brought into Aean after birth and were pure Askar in blood, often felt like their half-siblings born from Cath's womb were the favored ones. It had taken him years to drag them out of that mindset.
In some cases he was still trying.
Senar ran a hand along his back and nodded. ["I know… But it's not about them, it's about her."]
Burukt's fur rippled anxiously, Kelia was the youngest of his and Cath's four children from the only litter they had bothered to have.
As a child he had always doted on her the most, especially after her introverted nature became more apparent and she even shied away from her own siblings at times.
Kothlis had only made such behavior more pronounced, much to his chagrin, though she seemed to have recovered and even broken out of her shell a bit in the time since.
["Good to hear… I pray it stays that way."] Burukt sighed as he leaned forwards. ["She should be on Manda soon, correct?"]
["Yes dear, Ceqir already handled shipping some of her personal effects and her speeder, they should be arriving soon enough."] Senar informed him.
Relieved, Burukt reclined back into the sofa. ["And what about the rest of the children?"]
Ceqir raised an eyebrow. ["Do you want me to inform you verbally or on a report?"] She joked dryly.
Her husband laughed, knowing he had way too many kids for his own good. ["Alright, alright. I get it."]
Behind them, an Aean male in full Beskar'gam marked with the violet trimming of a House Los'ean warrior walked through the doorway, the GALAAR-15 carbine he was carrying shifting nervously in his arms. "Alor..." He growled nervously.
Burukt sighed and got to his feet. ["Right. What's the situa-."] His words died in his throat and his eyes went wide as he saw who was standing behind the warrior.
"Oh…" He uttered in basic.
o.o.o.o.o
Joint Base Baobab, Manda
Joint Base Baobab, the nerve Center of the freshly formed 13th Army, the Iron Lance Command.
Lying approximately forty-five minutes away from Manda's capital city of Adanso, the base could almost be confused for another major city in and of itself were it not for the vast arrays of military equipment and ships placed strategically throughout.
Consisting mostly of an expanse of red-striped white buildings with grey roofing and unpainted prefab structures stretched out over two thousand square kilometers with a network of roads lining it.
All of it centered around an artificial bay dug out from the nearby Pilaris sea.
It was an imposing sight from the air. And one that was heavily defended.
The sea of barracks, enlisted and officer housing, vehicle pools, machine shops, contractor operated food centers, military post exchanges, armories, comms and sensor antennas, air defense turret grids, exercise and sports facilities and countless other facilities and amenities were laid out in a well-organized pattern intended for ease of defense and internal transit.
These facilities in turn shared space with hospitals, shield projectors, pre-prepared positions meant for deployment of base-side forces for defense, airbase facilities for small craft. And finally the immense docking berths, landing aprons, and planetside drydocks meant for the navy, which weren't even close to capacity at this stage in the war.
Farther from the base lay hundreds more square kilometers of GAR maneuvering grounds, along with secure fuel and ammo storage, heavy generators, anti-orbital gun and missile emplacements, live firing ranges, coastal bombardment ranges for 'wet' naval craft, and practice landing zones for Clone SCUBA Troopers and amphibious marines.
Dedicated ground attack ranges for aircraft, starfighters, corvettes, and SPHA series artillery resided even further out than that.
More important than any of these other facilities, however, was the main administrative complex of the base, the beating heart not only of the Republic Military presence on Manda, but also the entire 13th Army.
Made up of a sprawl of communications centers, command and control facilities, intelligence analysis buildings, admin offices, strategy centers, cyber-warfare facilities and staff housing, the complex was both a warfighting masterpiece and a literal home to the beings who ran Republic military operations throughout the entire oversector.
Even if said beings were still only just moving in.
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
Joint Base Baobab Housing Complex, Manda
Kelia exhaled as she finished unpacking the last of her personal belongings that she was not keeping aboard the Kestrel.
Currently she was in the living room of her factory-built Corellian style house that was to serve as her home away from her home away from home.
At least it came furnished. It was the least they could do since otherwise she'd have nothing to put in place.
"Let's see, initial groceries… Check… Personal effects from the ship… Check…" The Bothan muttered. "Clothing… Check… Is there anything else I'm… Oh."
At that moment Kelia realized she didn't have a speeder…
That would prove to be a problem if she ever had to go off base, and even for on-base transit.
She was licensed yes, for both air and land speeders, but what she did not have was her personal vehicle.
That had remained on Krant since most speeders were banned in Pols Anaxes.
Requisitioning a rental landspeeder until she could purchase a vehicle would be prudent.
Kelia hoped there was a MandalMotors dealership in the region, she wanted another Iviin'galaar since she was fond of the model given its features
The fact her sister Nelir and one of her half-brothers, Relsk, used the law enforcement Buirk'alor variant in their duties as Krantian Protectors didn't hurt either.
It was always fun to hear them regale of how they ran down highway racers. Mostly by using the general assumption among less knowledgeable off-worlders that the Iviin'galaar series were only landspeeders, rather than airspeeders given Aean Bothans rarely actually flew them, to their advantage.
A knock at her door dragged Kelia out of her fond musings, the Bothan getting up and walking over to the entrance, checking the peephole as well as the doorcam before opening it after seeing a brown and tan furred Bothan, his shorter height indicating his likely Bothawui or Sennat heritage, wearing the black and silver uniform of Sei'lar Shipping on the other side.
"Kelia Los'ean?" He asked as he held up the datapad with the form on it.
She blinked dumbly for a moment before realizing what was going on and nodding. "Y… Yes."
"Please check for everything and then sign here." He said before handing it to her.
Kelia took the device and checked it before looking up at the rather large speeder truck as she saw her Velocityhawk get unloaded by small crew of Bothans and droids. A rather Bothan-sized crate and some smaller boxes next to it.
With the understanding that it was some personal effects moved from Krant at her family's behest, she signed her name with the touch stylus and then pulled out a bank chit.
She cautiously checked the plug mechanism in case it had been tampered with in some way. Satisfied that it wasn't, she briefly inserted the chit and signed off on the payment before handing the datapad back, in return the delivery Bothan handed a control device for the speeder over.
"Thank you ma'am." The delivery Bothan remarked before tipping his hat and walking back to his truck after the unloading crew made sure everything was in order, Kelia having opened the garage for her belongings to be taken inside.
Kelia walked over to her freshly unloaded speeder as she waited for the delivery crew to leave, running a hand over its deep dubkul striped silver frame.
A soft smile graced her features as she heard the speeder truck pull away, Kelia taking in a breath and smelling the salty coastal air that hung over the base.
Next door, Dan'lya strode out of her own house and stretched a bit in the sun before sneezing suddenly, catching Kelia's attention.
"Hey Dan'lya!" Kelia called out as she did a walkaround of her speeder before opening the vehicle, the doors and canopy swinging open as she inspected the interior.
Everything looked good, better than she'd left it honestly, indicating it'd been taken care of in her absence.
Jural leaned over the fence separating their units and raising an eyebrow at Kelia. "Where'd all that come from?" She inquired about the packages and the speeder.
"Krant." Kelia replied as she sealed the vehicle up after briefly powering it on and checking the fuel and energy supply before cutting the power, stepping away and locking it after closing the passenger compartment. "I guess my family had stuff shipped over."
Dan'lya nodded as she watched Kelia walk away from the speeder before looking over at the crate standing in the garage. "So, what's that?"
Kelia smirked and then waved her over, already suspecting what it was herself. "Come on, I'll show you if you help me get it inside."
Raising a curious eyebrow, Dan'lya walked over, helped Kelia tilt the surprisingly heavy crate onto its side, and then carried it into the building.
o.o.o.o.o
The two Bothans panted heavily as the finally set the large 'crate' down upright, a sharp yip from Dan'lya indicating she had accidentally put her foot under the thing.
This in turn forced Kelia to hold the crate up to allow Jural to remove her appendage from its entrapment.
As the other Bothan grabbed a flexible cold pack from the freezer in the kitchen and taped it to her foot, Kelia opened the crate, revealing a metal cabinet underneath.
Unlocking it, Kelia swung the doors of the cabinet open and sighed as she saw the packing liner that had been hidden underneath.
Rolling her eyes,she untaped and removed the foam packing, revealing a suit of Mandalorian Armor inside what was by now clearly less of a crate and more of an armor case.
Dan'lya's eyes widened as she watched while Kelia pulled out a cloth and wiped some dust off the visor, the helmet's blocky break-away snout section and slightly smaller width compared to the norm clearly indicating it was meant for Bothan wear.
Jural slowly walked up to it as Kelia inspected the kama flowing off the belt for damage, the Aean female running two fingers along part of the violet trimmings before looking at the identically colored sky dragon patterns painted across the otherwise light grey suit.
She smiled softly as she looked at the visor, fond memories of clan rituals coming back to the fore of her mind.
"Mapask…" ["Rogue…"] Dan'lya whispered.
"Everyone from outside my Clan says that the first time they see Beskar'gam when it's not being worn." Kelia laughed as she began to haul the armor out, grunting as she felt the weight of the chestplate as she took it out. "At least the case can double as a stand…" She sighed as she pulled out the folded up bodyglove next, scowling as she realized it may need to be refitted given she'd added and lost weight since the last time she'd worn it.
"Is that bad?" Jural asked, peering over Kelia's shoulder. "Can't you just get a stand?"
"You felt how heavy the case was, right?" Kelia asked as she continued unpacking the armor, treating it almost religiously carefully as she set it aside.
Upon seeing Jural nod, she continued. "Beskar is dense, has to be to resist lightsabers. The purer the heavier. And this is pure enough to send bolts from an emplaced HRB bouncing off it." Kelia uttered nonchalantly. "I'd have to have something shipped from Krant, custom made, or shipped from Mandalorian Space if I want it to hold the weight. All of that's pretty expensive and isn't really worth it when I have this anyways."
Dan'lya merely nodded again, still somewhat overwhelmed at seeing Kelia's armor firsthand.
That or having all that weight press down on her toes, thankfully nothing had seemed broken.
A bit of silence held for a bit before Kelia looked over at Jural after putting her armor away. "Wanna get some lunch? There's a few places on base, wanna try one out?"
Jural shrugged, having not really had much to do herself anyways. "Sure, why not."
Kelia pulled out her speeder remote and smirked. "Alright then, I'm driving once we're done here."
It was then that Dan'lya realized something. "Did you get everything registered for it yet?"
Stopping mid-step, Kelia's fur bristled as she resisted the urge to scream.
o.o.o.o.o
Packing into the front seats of Kelia's speeder after an hour of talking with the base admin office to get the vehicle temporarily registered on Manda, accompanied by a switch to their uniforms, the two Bothans drove out of the small housing allotment for Naval officers and onto the base roads, which were lined with bushes, coastal sage scrub, and a decent variety of flowering plants.
A handful of other private vehicles and non-tactical speeder trucks and jeeps, plus the occasional MP vehicle, made up the remainder of the traffic as Kelia nervously drove as best as she could.
It was slow going, but they were getting closer to the main public areas of this sector of the base.
The two Bothans' ears flicked up a bit as a Z-95R zoomed over their heads and came in for a long-run landing on one of the base's main airstrips, the white and red painted headhunter gleaming in the light as it coasted in on its repulsorlifts.
A second fighter followed it in, the other half of a two-ship pair returning from patrol.
"Bit more spread out than the Citadel." Kelia noted as they drove behind a boxy RTT-04 Troop Transport. The massive repulsor APC, which looked the result of an LAAT's affair with an old-fashioned hinge-door stopping wedge, slowed for a turn towards one of the nearby armor pools.
Kelia held off on the accelerator to let the RTT's engine wash fade, waiting for it to travel a fair distance down the side-road before continuing.
The last thing she needed was to have her speeder's paint stripped by ion engines so soon after finally getting to drive it again.
"Seems that way, but there's way more in the Citadel, at least in terms of non-combat facilities." Dan'lya noted as they stopped at a traffic sign, Kelia nodding and turning the blinkers on after checking for other traffic, making a left turn down the road towards a squat generic building with a sign written in both Aurebesh and Botha Cyrillic.
Гироскс Кантина. Girosk's Cantina.
Kelia looked at Jural after seeing the amount of Clone and non-Clone personnel hanging around the outdoor seating area amidst some cactus planters.
Some of the patrons, clearly local personnel based on their uniforms and unfamiliarity with the new warships, were outside gawking at the towering superstructures of the Venators, Acclamators, and Proclamators docked in the distance.
"You wanna try this place out?" Dan'lya asked as they slowed to a crawl while Kelia made her decision.
Kelia frowned. The thought of introducing herself to other personnel she didn't know, without an icebreaker moment at least, made her anxious. But she figured she could manage it. "Sure."
Parking, she opened the cab of the speeder and hopped out, a pair of Clones from the Kestrel waving at them from a table.
"Afternoon sirs!" One of the Clone Ensigns, Trill, called out as the two men gave them a salute.
"Easy men. You're not required to salute us… I think…?" She turned to Dan'lya, who shrugged at her in response as the Clones lowered their arms in confusion. "Anyways, we're just getting lunch."
"Alright then sir. Have a good day." Trill replied.
Giving him a nod, Kelia and Jural walked into the cantina.
It was packed with Bothan, Human, and a few near-human personnel, most chatting idly amongst themselves and glancing oddly at the handful of Clones sitting about in their own small cliques.
Almost all of the latter were from the Kestrel.
Kelia's fur rippled nervously as she froze and looked helplessly at Dan'lya.
Jural, remembering how socially inept her CO was, even compared to herself, sighed and pulled her inside.
o.o.o.o.o
Maarisa Zsinj
Joint Base Baobab, Manda
Admiral Zsinj stepped into Joint Base Baobab's main strategy room. The woman frowned as she looked around the room to see a few other ranking officers, as well as a pair of Jedi of all things, mixed in among the Clones and staff personnel.
Striding up to the main conference projector, Maarisa stood at attention. "Admiral Maarisa Zsinj, of Battlegroup Retaliation, reporting."
The Jedi, a man in his late thirties with a brownish beard and a set of shorter and looser battle-ready robes over what appeared to be sections of Clone armor, inspected Zsinj curiously before nodding.
Beside him stood a teenaged human female with short brown hair and a braid. The obvious Padawan wearing what appeared to be lighter armor intended for Jedi use.
Sector Admiral Yalin Byluir, a darker skinned man easily her age, nodded at Zsinj. "Good to have you with Iron Lance, Admiral Zsinj. I am not going to lie, having the 'Ace of the Spacelanes' here will be sure to boost morale in the region. We're a bit on the outlier as it is, what with multiple Jedi within this theatre already on permanent non-Combat assignments in Bothan Space and most of our otherwise available forces tied up defending Kamino and the extra-galactic approaches to the Rishii Maze. We're due for further reinforcement but unfortunately that's not for the next week or so."
A tan skinned Zabrak male with an Army General's rank plaque on his uniform nodded in agreement. "We're lucky that Master Varlo Qel-Droma and his Padawan could even be assigned here alongside their regiment." He huffed ruefully. "If our forces fall here, the Bothans will likely buckle to Separatist demands and give them free passage to Dalaang, or even outright renouncer their neutrality. To say nothing of how losing our routes out to Kamino, the handful of colonial cloning centers they have, and our links to Rothana will affect the greater war effort. The Jedi Council isn't taking this region seriously enough, and the Senate isn't helping much in that regard either."
Maarisa frowned, silently agreeing with her GAR counterpart.
"I agree with General Naru." Qel-Droma noted as he scratched at his beard. "The Separatists seem to have gone on the offensive in the Tion in spite of our standoffs closer to the mid-rim and the core, but to what end I don't know… I've tried talking to the council, but they appear to be pre-occupied with an offensive against the Raxus System."
From the side, a Clone Commander walked up with a subordinate Captain in tow, both men wearing pauldrons and kama command-skirts colored similarly to their armor striping. Curiously, the Captain had a blocky visor shroud on his helmet, while the Commander had a rangefinder antenna.
"General, we've received a priority report, Jedi codes." The Commander informed the Jedi Master
"Thank you, Commander Burner." Qel-Droma replied.
Turning to the others, he addressed them before walking off with the two. "This'll be just a moment. Padawan, remain here."
"Yes master." She replied in accented basic.
As he walked off, General Naru frowned and pulled up a holomap while continuing the explanation.
"So far, beyond the Tion raids, the Separatists have struck hard at certain points in the outer rim. For what reason. We don't know." Naru noted wearily. "I've sent some requests to command for more intel, but they've been shot down."
Maarisa frowned as she looked at the map of recent CIS attacks.
Kaer Orbital Platform, Rhen Var, Alaris Prime, Eredenn…
Remarkably restrained, all things considered. Though she couldn't put anything together between them with what she knew.
It was then that Qel-Droma returned with the two Clones, a grim look on his face. "Alert all ships to prepare for fleet deployment. We have confirmation from intelligence that a Separatist fleet is en-route to Manda." He warned, his Padawan looking over at him in shock.
Zsinj's eyes narrowed. "Most of our forces not assigned to the Kamino garrison are currently on patrol, marshalling at Kamino or Rothana, or stationed elsewhere in our theatre. Am I correct General?" She inquired.
Naru nodded as he pulled up a force deployment list. "Yes, we have only six Venators and their associated taskforces present here, plus the Manda PSF and the local detachments of the Baobab security fleet. As has been stated before, our reinforcements are hours out at best."
Byluir frowned. "How long do we have?"
"Hyperwave station estimates two hours."
The Sector Admiral nodded before turning to a brown and red furred Bothan female in a GAR uniform sitting at a control station nearby. "Sound all alerts, I want all crews back to their ships."
"Yes sir." She acknowledged, her fingers tapping away at the console as alarms began to blare.
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
Girosk's Cantina, Joint Base Baobab, Manda
Kelia laughed at Jural's frantic attempts to drink water after trying a spicy burrito, about an hour having passed after their arrival and Kelia having eased back into something close to 'normal'. "Easy there Jural." She cautioned the other Bothan, knowing she'd probably induce vomiting if she tried to drink too fast.
Suddenly, a howl picked up on the wind, causing their ears to perk up.
Invasion alert sirens.
Simultaneously their datapads buzzed.
Pulling hers out, Kelia's fur went flat as she saw the message.
[CIS FLEET INBOUND. ALL PERSONNEL TO COMBAT STATIONS. ALL WARSHIP CREWS RETURN TO ASSIGNED VESSELS AND PREPARE FOR LAUNCH. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.]
Oh kriff.
"Dan'lya!" Kelia yipped in alarm.
The other Bothan nearly tripped in the process of getting up but was already on her feet and grabbing what food she could.
The rest of the cantina was full of activity as the civilian staffed stared dumbly at the scramble.
Passing the counter, Kelia grabbed herself a few bags and slammed a cred chit on the counter.
She was probably over-paying, but she didn't have the time to care about spending too many creds.
"Put whatever's extra towards someone else's meal! Or a tip! Or whatever!" She shouted back to the somewhat paniced mixed Bothan and human staff as she and Dan'lya rushed out the door alongside nearly two dozen other beings.
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia rushed onto the bridge after landing her speeder in one of the hangars and ordering the ground crews to stow it somewhere easily accessible before running off, looking somewhat disheveled as she adjusted her uniform.
Then again, a panic scramble like this was hardly something glamorous to begin with.
Perth glanced at her as she came to a stop. "All crew accounted for sir. We're ready to launch at your discretion." He reported.
"Right…" Kelia shook her head and frowned as she heard the Kestrel's engines thrum to life. "Right, launch and form up with the Retaliation."
"Understood sir. Clearing moorings now." Perth acknowledged, the dull thunks of various mooring attachments disconnecting reverberating through the hull.
With a metallic roar, the Kestrel slid clear of her docking berth and began to ascend at full combat power, joining the rest of the Republic fleet and many of the Manda-based fighter squadrons in the scramble to orbit.
o.o.o.o.o
The Republic and Baobab Security Fleet ships assembled in a staggered line a few hundred klicks short of the jump point the CIS fleet was coming from, patrols of fighters rotating out in small numbers while they waited for the Separatists to arrive.
Six Venators, nine Proclamators, twelve Dreadnaughts, twenty-one Carracks, eighteen Arquitens, thirty-six Charger c70s, twelve flak-boat Peltas, six Hornet-class light carriers, nine Neutron Star-class bulk cruisers, six Captor-class carriers, six Munifex-class cruisers, sixteen Class-C frigates, twenty-four Vanguard c20s, eighteen CR90s, and a plethora of smaller craft filled the void.
The fleet was traditionally arranged with a main cruiser line supported by close support and picket lines, with the starfighters positioned throughout, with corvettes positioned strategically to.
Kelia wrung her hands nervously, her twitching fur further betraying her anxiety.
Going up against a handful of frigates was one thing.
An entire enemy taskforce was another.
"Sir, we're picking up cronau radiation spikes off our bow." Sweep reported grimly.
The Bothan frowned. "That's them then. Torres, I want all guns ready to go. Reinforce forward shields." She uttered as she gazed down into the port-side crew pit.
"Sir!" He reported.
She turned to Yap. "Have starfighter control get our ready fighters out ASAP. I don't want us to be caught launching them."
"Sir yes sir!"
Closing her eyes, Kelia steeled herself and waited, closing her eyes as she thought on the matter.
"Enemy ships coming out of hyperspace! Count twenty-four Munificents and twelve Recusants plus twelve Captors and escort vessels! Two Providences hanging back with a small escort group!"
A strike fleet. They weren't intending to land and capture Manda, just cripple it.
Opening her eyes, Kelia watched the Kestrel's ready starfighter complement boil into the void, followed by the doors closing.
This was going to suck.
A lot.
"FOR KRIFF'S SAKE, OPEN FIRE IF YOU HAVE THE RANGE!" Kelia barked at the fire control crews after realizing they'd been waiting for her orders.
Jolting a bit, the Clones nodded and input the commands that were to be relayed to gunnery control.
Seconds later the Kestrel rumbled as her main battery guns opened fire, followed by the rest of the of the fleet, equally caught off guard by the Kestrel shooting.
o.o.o.o.o
Brilliant azure bolts of light streamed towards the Separatist fleet as the Republic forces opened fire with their heavy guns.
It took a few salvos, but the Clones quickly found the range while their CIS counterparts were still doing whatever they were occupied with.
One Munificent, caught too far ahead of the main formation, tried to turn away as its shields buckled and then failed under the barrage. The doomed cruiser began to break apart under the sheer weight of Republic fire and then finally exploded as a shot punctured its main reactant tanks and blew the vessel in half, sending flaming debris spinning off into the void.
As if to further spite the Separatists, two anti-orbital cannon shots suddenly streaked into orbit from the surface, spearing another pair of ships and blowing them in two.
Red bolts began streamed back from the heavy guns of the Confederate warships as the droids seemed to finally wake up, swarms of Vultures, Crows, Jackals, Condors, and Hyenas launching from carriers and from underneath the shell-like exterior plating of the Munificents and Recusants, the insect-like machines surging forth to engage their Republic counterparts, who had launched waves of Z-95s, Cords, Y-Wings, V-Wings, and other craft like A-6s and Delta-6s, in response.
The fighters swept towards eachother and then locked into a one of the largest mass furballs yet seen in the war.
o.o.o.o.o
Colum Naliju
CSS Naliju Gale, Manda System
Commodore Colum Naliju frowned as he watched the first Munificent go down from the bridge of his personal Providence-class dreadnought, Naliju Gale.
Nearby, the destroyer Underwritten Investment sat in escort duty with the handful of ships making up their rear line.
Another two ships went down to anti-orbital guns before the CIS fleet finally began returning fire. Starfighter forces tangling with their Republic counterparts, distant flashes and streams of red and blue light punctuated by the drive flares of engines and missiles marking twirling battles between Republic pilots and droid fighters.
"They jumped in too close… Admiral Sik is a fool." The blond haired Serenno-born human sighed.
His grandfather had given the Nikto enough rope to hang himself with, and by the stars he had done just that.
Mostly by giving up the range advantage his vessels had in a frontal engagement in favor of trying to brawl. Which would have been a fine idea if he'd had Dreadnaughts or more Providences.
The problem was that the Recusants and Munificents had been designed for long-range warfare and intimidation, befitting the strategic doctrine of their primary users. While largely expendable, by virtue of being droid crewed or even fully automated on some versions, they lacked the armor to go to toe to toe with more durable vessels at close range.
Admiral Sik, being far too aggressive, had thus squandered every advantage he'd had in a blind rush for glory.
Again, a fool, their objective was to strike at the heart of Republic morale, not conquer Manda.
Naliju turned to the holo of TZ-23, gazing intently at the droid. "Prepare to issue a retreat on my order."
["By your command. Our navicomps are already programmed and our hyperdrives are prepared for a rapid jump."] The CIS marked Tactical Droid replied with a curt nod.
Naliju resisted the urge to chuckle unprofessionally.
At least the droid had common sense to see this was a lost battle and prepare accordingly.
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
RSD Kestrel, Manda System
Kelia grunted as the Kestrel took another set of serious hits on her forward shields from the cannons of a rapidly approaching trio of Recusants that had broken through the frontline.
"Frontal shields down by forty percent!" One of the techs shouted.
"Redirect rear shield power forwards!" Kelia ordered, the Clones carrying out her instructions without hesitation. "Focus fire on the undersides of those ships!"
So far everything had begun to devolve into chaos as the Seps pushed at the Republic frontline.
A half dozen burning Munificents and another sixteen wrecked Separatist escorts already littered the void.
However, several lighter Republic ships, mostly corvettes, gunboats, and a few Carracks, had been lost in exchange, their own wreckage slowly drifting out of the main battle zone while other vessels recovered their escape pods and evacuation launches and shuttles.
"All starboard guns! Nail the bastard to that side!" Kelia yelped as a trio of Hyenas zipped towards the Kestrel, the bombers trying to set up for an attack run before being shot down by a pair of Cords, the needle-winged fighters banking and screaming off as they passed the Kestrel's bridge.
A pair of Consulars rushed in from above seconds later and intercepted a follow-up push by a full squadron of Jackals with their laser cannons and turbos.
The older, but no less deadly, droid bombers were cut to shreds more easily than their more maneuverable cousins before the survivors were finished off by the Kestrel's point guns. A price to be paid for having a far greater payload.
The thunder of the DBY-827s echoed throughout the Kestrel's hull, shot after shot being hammered out towards the oncoming destroyers.
Red bolts crossed with azure as the four ships exchanged fire.
As the broadsiding commenced, one of the fleet's Proclamators, the Myako, came to the Kestrel's aid by circling behind the port-side Recusant and opening fire on its highly vulnerable stern, the shields of the Separatist destroyer starting to collapse under fire from multiple directions as the Consulars came back around and joined in, one banking as it skimmed along the Recusant's hull.
Punctuating this affair were the occasional groups of starfighters chasing eachother into the general area. Flashes and streaks of light smeared across the blackness indicated craft that had been shot down or severely damaged while the distant bursts of blue and red light, further marked by the drive flares of missiles, tracked who was firing at who.
A sudden burst of light from Manda's surface coincided with the trailing Recusant suddenly blowing in two. Further anti-orbital cannon shots taking their toll on the CIS fleet as the guns launched salvos into the enemy rear line.
Kelia watched the wreckage twirled off into a decaying orbit, wondering if it could be stabilized after the battle and taken to a safer position.
An impact reminded her that she had things to be doing.
Gritting her teeth as the two surviving Recusants moved in and caught the Kestrel in a full broadside, Kelia found herself dumbfounded when the starboard one directly up alongside her ship and began attempting to extend boarding tubes.
As the ships slotted into their planned positions, broadside proton cannons ripped into the Kestrel's particle shielding, seeking to strip past to the armor below.
The Kestrel's lateral turbolaser casemates returned fire in kind, shells and bolts streaking past eachother and clashing against the other vessel's shields.
"Particle shields failing in multiple sections!" One of the technicians reported as the blue shimmers on the Kestrel's hull began to fade as its shields began to buckle.
A small series of yellow-orange-red flashes near the bow of the ship indicated the Venator had finally taken a damaging blow, Kelia wincing under the knowledge that some of her crew were now dead.
"Security reports that the enemy ship is attempting to deploy boarding parties through starboard airlocks!" One of the Clones reported.
"Oh kriff this, helm! Get us away from them!" Kelia yipped angrily. "All starboard main turrets to power setting six! Blow the stupid bastard out of the stars!"
"Sir!" The helmsmen replied in unison.
"Aye aye sir!" Torres acknowledged before giving the orders.
She turned to Yap next. "Tell fighter control I want fighters and bombers striking the ships hitting us! Launch them from the ventral bay if you have to!"
Nodding, Yap relayed her orders. Kelia hoped that they could launch in time.
The thunder roaring from the Kestrel's guns continued as the blue ripples of turbolaser impacts on enemy shields gave way to the fiery flashes of explosions, vast chunks of the Recusant on the Kestrel's port side simply atomizing as gigatons of highly concentrated energy tore into it.
In response, the Kestrel shook violently from debris impacts on her hull as surviving debris was flung into the ship by the Venator's high powered guns while the Republic Star Destroyer began to pull down and away from the vessels bracketing it.
In turn, the CIS vessel and its sibling continued hammering the Kestrel with their own surviving weapons. The simplistic programming of their main computers prioritizing the Venator above the Proclamator and the corvettes currently harassing them.
Further barrages from every weapon on the Kestrel's starboard side continued to tear into the starboard Recusant, the relatively unprotected vessel beginning to break apart under the strain of the barrage now that its shields had been stripped.
Finally, its bridge exploded as one of the Kestrel's DBY-827s raked fire along the dorsal surface of the enemy destroyer.
As if on cue, a series of explosions ripped into the CIS vessel's underside, knocking out many of its remaining ventral guns. This sudden upset followed by twenty-four Y-Wings and a dozen V-19s screaming up from below.
Having expended their ordnance, the bombers and fighters began strafing runs on anything that looked vulnerable, from windows and gunports to sensor antennas. Partway through the craft broke off for the safety of a nearby escort group as a few flights of Vulture droids sprung forth from underneath the shell-like armor plating of the warship as a last ditch defense.
Why they hadn't deployed before now, Kelia had no idea.
The ship opposite the attempted boarder suddenly lurched as its main bridge exploded, another pair of Consular Charger c70 retrofits blasting past at max acceleration.
Descending relative to the two Recusants, the Kestrel's main batteries tracked upwards, aiming directly into the unprotected underbellies of the two CIS ships and streaming fire into their innards, a series orange-red explosions crippling them further.
Then, something critical on the starboard ship was struck and a miniature star erupted directly in Kelia's face as something volatile on the droid ship, possibly a reactor, went up.
She heard herself screaming as everything went bright. Recoiling back while blinded, Kelia's foot met air, then she felt the sensation of falling.
A warning cry from one of the Clones was the last thing she heard before she felt a sharp impact against her head and everything went black.
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
Los'shtarn, Krant
A twelve-year old Kelia watched as the other children, a mix of Bothans, Wookiees, and some humans, played nearby in one of Los'shtarn's several large parks.
Amber eyes blinked as she sat dumbly on a park bench while the other children fiddled with Jedi and Mandalorian figures in a sandbox, re-enacting ancient battles with their toys and cheering whenever the Mandalorian figures downed a Jedi.
Nearby, an armed warrior stood as her minder, the distinct violet sky dragon markings of House Los'ean on his Beskar'gam.
After watching her for a few minutes, the warrior walked over to her. "Me'vaar ti gar verd'ika?" ["How are you little one?"] He asked in pure Mando'a, holding his WESTAR rifle at ready.
Kelia shook her head to clear the cobwebs and looked up at him. "Naas." ["I am fine."] She replied after a second or so of hesitation.
["You still remember Kothlis."] The warrior noted sadly, seeing the thousand-yard stare in the child's eyes.
"Kiz…" ["Yes…"] She replied in Bothese.
The warrior knelt next to her and tipped his helmet in understanding. ["It is a harsh thing to see such atrocities at your age, to lose those you care about. That is part of why us warriors are here. To protect those who have not yet learned how to do so. We give our lives so that they may see a brighter tomorrow."]
["I wanna be a warrior… But I'm too small…"] Kelia sighed as she watched the other children, who had now begun to roughhouse while imagining holding blasters, swords, and lightsabers. One even making wooshing noises as they pretended they were using a jetpack.
The warrior chuckled softly and put a hand on his knee. ["Little one, you're an Aean. You are a child of Mandalore just the same as the rest of us. Nobody becomes a warrior overnight. They must struggle and strive towards that."]
He paused to let that sink in before speaking again. ["Even the outsider Bothans must train their soldiers, use powered armor and other methods to overcome their limitations."] He assured Kelia before gently tapping her on the nose. ["If you wish to become a warrior, rather than merely someone who can also fight, then that is the path you must take."]
Her fur swimming warmly, Kelia nodded in understanding. ["I'm gonna be a great warrior then!"] She uttered proudly.
["A great warrior doesn't become great by sitting on their rear all day. Go play while you are still young. The time to grow up will come soon enough, remember that your Ver'dgoten is coming sooner than you think."] The warrior uttered sagely.
Nodding in understanding, Kelia got up and ran over to the other younglings, waving at them as she approached.
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
RSD Kestrel, Naval Station Manda, Manda
Kelia's eyes fluttered open and she groaned, a splitting headache disrupting her focus as she looked around.
Nearby, an IM-6 med droid floated over. "Greetings Captain Los'ean." It uttered in its soothing pre-programmed feminine tone.
"Kriffing… Where's my…" She realized she was staring at a medbay ceiling and freaked out, a heart-rate monitor's beeping tone increasing rapidly in tempo and pitch as her adrenaline spiked.
"Calm yourself." The droid said calmly as it laid a metal hand on her arm. "The vessel is alright, as is the crew. It has suffered moderate armor damage after a separatist warship exploded off the starboard side, the crew managed to blunt most of the thermal and impact damage with the shields."
Kelia slowed her breathing as she brought her anxiety bank under control, her roiling fur settling down. "R… Right… I Remember the explosion, then…"
"You fell into the starboard crew pit after being blinded. The bridge crew to get you to the med-bay where you were diagnosed with a concussion." The IM-6 informed her, the calming tone of its voice managing to ease her nerves.
The droid shone a light into her eyes, testing her dilation. "So far you don't seem to have suffered any serious brain damage. Still, given Bothan brain physiology, I would highly recommend against committing any activities that would dramatically increase the risk of another serious impact unless absolutely necessary."
That explained the headache at least. "Right… I know how dangerous concussions are." She sighed as she looked around the room while the droid ran some minor tests on her brainwave activity. "Well there goes drinking for a few weeks." Kelia grumbled softly.
"Good to see you have a sense of humor, sir." A Clone wearing a white Medical Officer's uniform with a Red Sigil on the shoulder uttered as he walked over. "Lieutenant Commander CMO-44/1331, you can call me Yorr, sir." He said, introducing himself. "My apologies for the introduction but I don't think we ever had the chance to meet before."
Kelia sighed. "Hell of a meeting doc…" She muttered she slipped her legs out of bed and tried to stand as the IM-6 unhooked the equipment attached to her.
All the while it kept a careful watch on Kelia, helping her steady herself as she stumbled. "Your vitals appear to be fine Captain. A change of clothes will be provided, and you will be allowed to depart for your personal on-base quarters once the alert status is lowered." Yorr replied.
"So, we won?" Kelia muttered as she walked over to a nearby chair.
Yorr nodded. "Yes sir. Apparently the ship that exploded in our faces was the enemy flagship. Another three of their Munificents and five more Recusants, plus sixteen escorts, went down before the Seps retreated."
Kelia's fur twitched. "And how many ships did we lose?"
"Out of our fleet… Three Dreadnaughts, nine Carracks and three Arquitens were sunk alongside nine frigates and twelve corvettes. Another dozen or so ships were damaged to varying degrees."
Surprisingly light for the force they faced.
"How many fighters did we lose?"
"About fifteen from our ship were shot down, twelve more crashed while trying to land." Yorr stated morbidly as he led Kelia over to a window showing a room full of Bacta tanks.
Many of them had wounded Clones inside, most burned or battered to a far worse degree than Kelia.
The Bothan's fur flattened as she looked down. "Crew losses?"
"Sixteen gunners were killed when their battery was destroyed by enemy fire, nearly two hundred wounded from further hits. We got off lucky sir."
Kelia's fur quivered, making it look like she was shaking given how tightly it was pulled against her skin.
Yorr frowned at that her expression. "Sir?"
"They're dead because of me." She whispered as she gazed out at the wounded.
"Sir, if it weren't for your quick thinking… We would have been boarded, not to mention the damage that could have been done had we been closer to the explosion. It could've been a lot worse, especially if the torpedo magazines had been detonated." The chief medical officer assured her.
Kelia ignored him, merely staring at the floating bodies of men who were half her age and who had their entire childhoods, their innocence, stripped from them by design.
Her stomach churned, and, for a brief moment, she wondered if the Republic really was worth saving.
o.o.o.o.o
Burukt Los'ean
Los'shtarn, Krant
Burukt stared mutely at a face he had not seen in a decade.
Cath Los'ean tilted her head, dark blond hair bouncing slightly as she stared back. ["Honestly, ten years and you're speechless when I come back. No welcome back?"]
He sighed at his wife's blunt attitude, starting to understand where Nelir got some of her own emotional ineptitude from. ["As if I should have anything good to say…"] Burukt muttered before dismissing the warrior with a wave of his hand, the other male nodding and walking out.
As the door slid shut, Burukt walked over to his wife, leaving Senar behind him. ["You honestly have a lot of nerve coming back and acting like this. You're lucky none of our children are here."] He growled softly.
He wanted to be happy, but her just showing up and being so casual about it pissed him off.
Cath looked away, fur remaining stoic. It was a trait of hers that pissed Burukt off sometimes. ["I had a favor called in by… You know... Not exactly my proudest decision but-"]
["Two months after you vanished, Kelia almost died."] Her husband snarled, interrupting the explanation.
The visible flinch from her was cathartic for Burukt. Especially after a decade of watching Kelia suffer from her experiences that day, which had been further compounded by everything else life had put her through.
["What…?"] Cath whispered.
["Kothlis, we went there for business and a little vacation time. Pirates attacked. Kelia lost two of her friends and has been traumatized ever since."] Burukt snarled as he stepped forwards. ["So let me ask this... DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH SHTAK YOUR CHILDREN HAVE BEEN THROUGH WITHOUT YOU!? DO YOU!?"] He bellowed, baring his white Askar teeth as he towered over Cath. ["HOW MUCH THEY WANTED YOU TO BE THERE FOR THEM!?"]
An Aean she might be, but there was something to be said for the average spacer Bothan being as almost as tall as a Wookiee.
Senar shifted nervously at her spot closer to the window.
["I HAVE BEEN HOLDING THIS FAMILY, THIS HOUSE, TOGETHER AS BEST I CAN FOR TEN YEARS CATH! IT'S LITERALLY ONLY BECAUSE WE STILL CARE THAT YOU HAVEN'T BEEN DECLARED DAR'BUIR!"] Burukt snarled angrily, panting as he finished his tirade against his wife.
That seemed to have an effect. ["I had my reasons…"] She murmured, noticeably insecurely.
Burukt looked tiredly at her as his anger rapidly faded. ["I know you owed Fett a few major favors… But Cath… We needed you."] Burukt uttered. ["I needed you. Your children needed you. For star's sake you missed Kelia's wedding."]
Cath remined silent for a few moments before turning and walking out the door she'd entered, much to his renewed anger.
The House Aean Warrior who'd led Cath to her husband shifted nervously and tightened his grip on his carbine, it was clear he wanted to be anywhere but here.
Senar walked over and gently put a hand on Burukt's shoulder, the gesture being enough to calm him down.
["Dear…"] She whispered softly before gesturing out the door.
Sighing, he nodded and followed Cath, knowing her well enough to figure where she was going.
o.o.o.o.o
Sure enough, he found her in one of the hallways, staring at a holo of Kelia and Korsk on their wedding day, the projectors mounted at the top and bottom of the frame playing the moment of their vows and kiss over and over again in a loop.
Other holos displayed other key moments in their children's lives, Nelir becoming a Krantian Journeyman Protector, Uv graduating college and getting his diploma before joining the Krantian civil government, Jakys becoming a fully fledged warrior and obtaining an independent security contractor's license, Kelia's acceptance into what was now the Anaxes War College.
And most recently, Kelia's graduation as an officer in the Republic Navy and a still from the press conference on Tawa, showing her in full service uniform with the rank of a naval captain pinned on her chest.
Cath had been present for none of them.
He paused for a moment and then spoke in basic. "Cath?"
She didn't respond, her head tilting down as she brought a hand to her face.
Burukt's ears perked up as he heard choked sobbing coming from his wife.
Slowly, he walked over to her, seeing her start to shake.
Putting his hands on her, Burukt gently spun Cath so that she faced him. As he did, he saw tears welling up in her eyes.
She was caught between who she projected herself as, and what she wanted to do.
He hugged her, rubbing a hand along her back. ["It's okay to cry love."] He cooed softly, knowing that she was now fully coming to terms with what she'd lost by heeding Jango's call.
Those were the words which opened the floodgate.
Wrapping her arms around him, Cath began to wail. Crying because she had missed so many years of her children's lives and let them suffer without her, all out of her own volition.
Burukt merely stood there and held her until she couldn't cry anymore.
o.o.o.o.o