"It is an honor to be here at this momentous occasion," declared the man on the podium with a familiar voice.
"It has been almost two years since the Clone War began on Geonosis," the Chancellor went on, "Millions have perished. Hundreds of worlds ravaged by the atrocities of Count Dooku and the Separatist menace!"
He paused as words sank in amongst the diverse crowd on the shipyard's dozens of levels. Kuati executives and Republic Senators were seated above in VIP observatory balconies.
"But no more. For this great challenge to our democracy has united the most loyal among us. For this great challenge to our democracy has led us to do amazing achievements. And now I stand before you all today, a witness to what our newfound unity has built. Today, we send forth, a ship of proportions unseen in recent galactic history, designed for battle, to lead our navy on the front lines. She will be the tip of the spear into Separatist-held space, and be called home by three hundred thousand of our best and brightest…"
Captain Kyle Miran watched the whole spectacle from the dimly-lit bridge. Palpatine was wearing his usual red gown. A chill went down his spine as he observed the crowd give him thunderous applause after thunderous applause. Must be the nervousness. Kyle may be captain, but he is only standing in as commander for Admiral Raru Lee, who is a keynote speaker for the commissioning.
He continued to observe the crowd and the podium off to the starboard side of the ship. His gaze shifted toward the VIPs seated next to the Chancellor on the podium. Among those seated were Grand Master Yoda, a young knight, and his padawan. Even though he was several hundred meters above the floor of the ceremony, he could still tell they were Jedi, due to the distinct robes. It was only less than two years before when he too wore the robes of a peacekeeper. It was that very symbolism that led him to forsake them, as well as the Order in which he was raised from birth to be a part of.
Geonosis left scars on everyone.
Palpatine stepped off the podium and took his seat. A female Mon Calamari officer took to the podium.
"There's the admiral," said a young Quarren officer sitting at a nearby station.
"Let's hope this wraps up soon. These speeches are really kriffing boring," replied Rodian.
These remarks irritated the young captain, "Can it, you two! Show some respect."
"Sir! Sorry sir!" they said in unison.
Brent Astar watched from a seat next to the podium as Admiral Raru Lee stepped up to speak.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. It is an honor to have been appointed the commanding officer of the Republic's new flagship…"
The Kiffar Jedi Knight beamed with pride as he watched the elderly Mon Calamari officer speak to the audience. The sheer size of the ship and the image of power it projected fascinated him. Something didn't seem to feel right, though. He couldn't shake off a feeling of uncertainty. That cannot be from me. He turned toward his apprentice. She had on a convincing smile and was listening intently, but no padawan could hide their true emotions from their masters for long.
"I sense you're uneasy, Keya. Tell me. What's on your mind?"
The sudden question briefly startled the Twi'lek. "Oh? Well, I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"Well…" she sheepishly began, "Master Windu once said that we are keepers of the peace, not soldiers."
"Yes, and?"
"So I was wondering, what are we doing fighting in this war?"
"Keya-"
The apprentice hesitated and glanced away at the floor.
"Sorry master, I-I just don't know."
The young jedi gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, as a father would.
"It's okay, Keya. Sometimes I question the war too. But I believe that, as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, it is our duty to help those who can't help themselves, and there are millions of beings living in Separatist space suffering under the boot of the Sith. The Sith orchestrate conflict to feed off of it, and as peacekeepers, we must stop them."
With both their confidence restored, they redirected their attention back to the podium, just in time for the thunderous applause for Admiral Lee as she left the podium.
I listened to the US Navy Anthem "Anchors Aweigh" as I wrote the next section. They go very well with each other.
Kyle continued to watch the scene. The Chancellor was on the podium again, this time holding a bottle of champagne. Kyle strode back to the central command walkway from the viewport to see his bridge crew, excluding the clones, lounging about like Hutts.
"There's our cue! Man your stations!"
The sudden order jolted everyone out of their seats. As the clones and recruited officers scrambled to their posts, the captain quickly shifted to his personal console and activated the intercom.
"All hands! Man your stations! Stand by for launch! I repeat! Stand by for launch!"
"Captain! We have an incoming transmission from the podium."
Captain Miran took a deep breath.
"Put it through."
The comm system crackled to life.
"Officers and crew of the Pride of the Core, man our ship, and bring her to life!"
"With pleasure, Chancellor. Pride of the Core, this is Captain Kyle Miran. Turn on all lights and prepare for launch!"
The anthem of the Republic Navy from the Bith band and Kuati Choir on the shipyard dock was blasted across the ship through the intercom as the lights flickered on across the bridge. Kyle strode back to the command walkway, hands calmly clasped behind his back. The music caused his heart to swell with pride; a delighted smile crossed his face as, one by one, the viewports and signaling surfaces across the hull illuminated like a Wookiee forest on Life Day. Dozens of shipyard personnel stood on balconies along the shipyard walls with their marshalling wands to coordinate the ship's departure from the slipway. The captain turned around to face his bridge crew, a diverse collection of clones and recruited crewmen of many races: Humans, Mon Calamari, Duro, Rodians, even Quarren.
"Give me a status report."
"Hull integrity 100%"
"Hypermatter reactors 97.2% efficiency"
"Fuel silos at maximum capacity."
"Hyperdrive fully operational."
"All systems running at optimal condition. The ship is yours, sir."
Captain Miran's smile grew wider. He turned just in time to see the Chancellor throw the champagne bottle at the hull of the Pride. His focus then turned to a dock hand in a space suit on a balcony above the hangar entrance. The worker waved his wands towards the hangar exit. Pride of the Core was cleared to leave.
"Activate main thrusters, 5% power."
"Thrusters, 5%"
Then slowly but surely, the ship pushed itself under her own power down the slipway into Kuat's orbit. The gargantuan section of the shipyard was the only dock in the galaxy big enough to berth the eight-kilometer long ship. The captain turned his head to watch the crowd as the bridge passed by. The shipyard seemed to have been deafened by their cheers. Amidst the sea of beings, he saw wives and girlfriends wave their handkerchiefs and children gaping in awe at the scale of the dreadnought. Shipyard workers broke out glasses and popped open bottles of champagne and brandy (albeit some quite literally) celebrating their crowning achievement.
As the ship passed the rest of the crowd, Kyle turned his attention forward again. A thin shadow running across the width of the ship ran down the bridge as it passed under the truss above the entrance to the drydock. We're almost clear. The last of the ship soon cleared the slipway, and dozens of space-tugs were soon zipping across the hull, ready to offer tractor beam guidance to the massive ship if needed. She didn't need any.
"Increase power to main thrusters, 25%. Get us clear of orbital traffic."
"Thrusters at 25%, sir. We're making headway."
The gargantuan vessel began to accelerate away from the expansive artificial ring around Kuat that was its shipyards. You're doing beautifully, old girl. Let's see how well you hold in deep space. Dozens of spice freighters, starliners, space yachts, and security frigates passed into the crew's field of view and disappeared past the massive viewports. Kyle could feel the awe and surprise through the Force from the crews of the observing ships.
"Captain!" a female Quarren officer called out, "A squadron of friendlies is approaching off our ten o'clock."
Kyle turned his attention toward the viewport to see a flotilla of smaller ships approaching their position. The fleet consisted of three Venator class and four Victory class star destroyers, accompanied by four smaller Arquitens light cruisers
"There's the rest of our battlegroup. Hold the course. They've been ordered to form up around us."
"Yes sir."
"Sir!" a clone officer exclaimed, "Incoming transmission from a Nu-class shuttle. It's the admiral."
"Put her through."
Kyle turned around and returned to his console. A blue hologram of the Mon Calamari appeared. He saluted.
"Admiral!"
"At ease, captain," said his superior in a liquid soft, but stern voice. "You put on a good show back there."
"Uh, with all due respect, Ma'am, I only ordered the lights and thrusters turned on," Kyle replied sheepishly. He quickly changed his tone. "Our cruiser escorts have arrived on schedule. We're ready for space trials in the Hosnian System."
"Excellent. I will be joining you shortly."
The hologram transitioned to a seated Phase II clone pilot.
"Pride of the Core, this is Shuttle Tydirium carrying Admiral Lee and top Kuati engineering personnel, requesting permission to land in Hangar Three."
"Shuttle Tydirium. You are cleared for landing."
The captain turned to the Bothan at the comm station.
"Message the fleet to chart a course for Hosnian Prime. Let's get this girl ready to fight."
"Yes sir."