Aboard the RSD Kestrel
19 BBY (16:05:20 GrS)
Two days before Order 66…
Ominous rumbling sounds vibrated through the air. At first, it was so faint that Kelia barely stirred in her sleep, but then a metallic groan, unlike any sound the Kestrel was supposed to make, caused her to jolt upright in bed.
"Me'bana?" She muttered in Mando'a, adrenaline spiking as the vessel groaned again.
Alarms blared as Jural's panicked voice issued from the intercom. "ALL HANDS! BRACE FOR UNEXPECTED HYPERSPACE REVERSION!"
Kelia reacted instantly and gripped her bedspread, barely managing to avoid being flung from her bed. The ship spun violently for a few seconds before the whine of the hyperdrive ceased, replaced by the shriek of metal straining under stress.
As she jumped out of bed, clad only in socks and a pair of panties, Kelia spared a glance out the viewport of her flag quarters just in time to see the Venator-class Geofon spiral out of hyperspace into the stern half of a Recusant-class destroyer. The collision sheared the CIS vessel in two and crippled the star destroyer. Smoke and fire billowed from her crumpled starboard side.
More CIS ships began moving into attack positions, mostly Diamonds, Auxilias, and Hardcells backed by Recusants. Behind them dozens of dark shapes loomed into view, outlined by viewport, hangar, and engine glows. They were organized in a roughly cylindrical formation. When the red flashes of enemy turbolaser fire began to streak towards her disorganized fleet, she could faintly make out some of their classes. They were all Separatist capital ships: Munificents, Lucrehulks, and even a few Providence-class.
HAAR'CHAK! WE'VE BEEN INTERCEPTED! Kelia realized in horror, jumping out of bed and sliding her boots on before grabbing a pistol belt, spare rank plaque, and undershirt. She had absolutely no time to get her pants or jacket on, let alone a bra, not when every last second mattered.
She'd just barely gotten the shirt on as she rushed out the door, Clones and non-clones of all ranks rushing about in varying states of dress as they hurried to battle stations. The ship shook violently at irregular junctures as it came under enemy fire, alarms wailing and droids frantically scurrying about to avoid being underfoot.
Dodging around a Zeltron female who was even less dressed than she was, Kelia slammed her palm on the express turbolift's summon button, using the brief pause to work her pistol belt into a comfortable position and pin her commodore's rank plaque to her shirt.
I just have to regain control and figure out what the shab is going on. Otherwise, we won't last a mynock minute against the tinnies.
The trip up was a frantic ten seconds of her waiting to see if a turbolaser bolt would puncture the hull and kill her instantly before she could even reach the bridge.
There was little doubt in her mind that Palpatine had sent an entire Separatist fleet to kill everyone in her taskforce who could expose Order 66 and everyone else for good measure.
When this is over, then I can throw a tirade about that aruetti chakaar of a Chancellor.
The doors slid open to pandemonium in the CIC as crew, droids, and officers shouted orders, asked for situation reports, and relayed data in a chaotic din that only a veteran could discern.
"Enemy fleet numbers at least sixty vessels, multiple heavies in their main body."
"Collision reports coming in; Star Destroyer Geofon has suffered heavy damage, light cruiser Phalanx and frigate Sprinter are confirmed lost with all hands."
"Confirmed multiple wounded across six decks due to the reversion, medical-wing please acknowledge!"
"SHAB! Temperature is rising rapidly on our starboard side."
"Ready to jump to hyperspace on your mark, Captain."
"Mark!"
The brief warbling noise of the hyperdrive coming to life emanated through the ship, but no stars streaked in the viewports. Anticlimactically, the sound died, immediately followed by the click of the hyperdrive shutting down.
"The hyperdrive, it… It's non-functional!"
"Non-functional?! That makes no sense!"
"The safety lockout thinks we're in a gravity well!"
"Getting a report from Foretoken… They also failed to jump to hyperspace. We're all stuck."
Nobody paid Kelia's improper dress any mind as she rushed to the front of the bridge, too focused on their duties to even notice her, let alone comment. Thankfully, Morai seemed to be absent. The last thing she needed was that damn convor fluttering around and distracting her. At the front of the bridge, she saw Perth trying to advise a frantic Jural, who was pacing around, a blindingly bright yellow star visible through the tinted viewports beyond them. Vast arcs of solar prominences flowed off from the surface.
Kelia's fur went flat, recognizing that star from her astronav course at the Anaxes War College.
Athega.
It was among the hottest and brightest stars outside of the Core—so hazardous that the Rimma Trade Route and Corellian Spine hyperlanes were intentionally plotted dozens of parsecs away in either direction. The Kestrel should not have been in the Athega system at all.
"Hyperdrive's failed. Looks like we're in for a fight. Tell flight control to launch all alert squadrons when ready!" Jural ordered, spinning to look at a comms officer in the starboard crew pit.
"BELAY THAT!" Kelia barked as she marched over. Jural and Perth jumped in surprise at her state of dress.
"Sir?" Perth said the title as a question.
Kelia glared side-eyed at the star looming outside the viewports. "We're in the kriffing Athega system. If we launch fighters, they're going to practically evaporate in less than a minute even at this distance from the star. No, belay any and all fleetwide launch orders. Instead, all vessels are to rotate so their heaviest armor is facing the star's surface. They're to evacuate all bottom decks of non-essential crew and droids, reinforce ventral shields, and rig anything on their undersides for atmospheric entry conditions! All vessels are to reform into line battle formation while targeting and destroying any nearby enemy ships that pose the highest threat to the fleet!"
"Excellent suggestion, sir," Vra'tis intoned from her science station, "but it still won't be long until our ventral armor and shields are compromised by the stellar radiation, after which point…" The Caamasi trailed off with a shrug.
Kelia grimaced at the thought of either being burned away by a star or by Sep turbolaser fire. Neither was particularly appealing.
Perth spun on his heel after a moment's pause, relaying Kelia's orders.
Looking through the viewports, Kelia could see something was wrong. A Separatist Recusant was on approach towards the Kestrel but there was only sporadic outgoing fire. "Fire control! What are our main battery crews doing?!"
Torres glanced up from the crew pit, looking confused, "I don't know, sir, at least half of them are still reporting to their stations!
What in haran happened while I was out?
o.o.o.o.o
Ahsoka Tano
Aboard the Kestrel, Athega System
The Togruta could hear the blares of alarms at the edge of her consciousness. She took in a breath and inhaled the acrid smell of ozone and burning plastoid.
"All hands to battle stations. All hands to battle stations! This is not a drill."
"She's waking up," growled a vaguely familiar voice in a thick Bothan accent. "Look! Her eyes… See Veryk? Yeah. Ahsoka Tano? Can you hear me?"
Governor Lir Sey'les. On Coruscant?! No… It can't be! NO!
Ahsoka sat straight up with a gasp, expecting her worst nightmare to come true—That she had been unconscious for far too long, perhaps months. That the Empire had risen, and now she would be surrounded by Stormtroopers and interrogation droids. Instead, she opened her eyes and found herself in the very recognizable medbay of a Venator-class Star Destroyer.
The same younger version of Lir Sey'les who had sent her a holomessage was standing at the foot of her bed in the flesh—or rather in the fur, wearing a green-gray Republic Navy uniform. Her arms were folded with impatience.
The memory flashed into her mind from a few weeks back of that weasel creature which invaded her mind—the weasel that for some unknown reason reminded her of Lir Sey'les. The ex-Imperial Governor who must also be a time traveler. Who must have copied Ahsoka's method, transferring herself into her younger self.
"SEY'LES!" Ahsoka exclaimed, yelling successfully for the first time since being poisoned. She reached out with the Force, searching for her lightsaber, which seemed so near yet somehow unreachable.
Sey'les's ears flattened. "Veryk? Why does she fear me so much if I gave her directions to a temple? You made it sound like she was my friend."
A chittering animal noise came from Ahsoka's left, causing her to recoil. A purple creature that looked very much like a weasel, but the size of a small dog, was squeaking animatedly and waving its paws.
Sey'les looked at the creature as if understanding every word it was saying. "Oh. I see."
Hooting noises came from overhead, drawing Ahsoka's attention to the ceiling. None other than Morai was perched atop a computer monitor on the wall.
Sey'les looked at the owl, nodding in agreement. "Okay, yeah. I guess I can put it that way."
"Morai…" Ashoka croaked in wide-eyed astonishment.
"And I'm Nebhir," said the biggest Squib Ahsoka had ever seen, standing next to Morai.
"How did I—"
The floor shook under the muffled sound of a proton torpedo detonating on the surface of a shield.
Sey'les glanced disconcertedly behind her, in the direction the noise had come from, then turned back to Ahsoka. "The Prophets," the Bothan said, gesturing to Veryk and Morai, "Brought you here, to the Kestrel, from the Vergence Scatter. Sidious was going to activate Order 66, and Veryk foresaw that bringing you here from Coruscant would stop that.
"It's like that time a humahn named Ezra dragged you out of space-time," the Bothan continued. She slurred the word human in an accent even thicker than the one her older self had spoken in. "Earlier, when I was in the Vergence Scatter, I accidentally pressed my face to your midichlorians because you smelled like Wookiee food. Fortunately, Veryk fixed me while I was asleep."
"You… what?!" Ahsoka gasped. Up to the point Sey'les had mentioned Wookiee food, she was able to follow the conversation. The straightforward deadpan way the Sey'les had explained such a strange happening would have been comical, were the events of the past few days not so completely universe-shattering.
The purple weasel, Veryk apparently, squeaked animatedly, jumping up and down.
"Sorry, I forgot to mention. He fixed you too, Ahsoka," Sey'les said, "To the best of his ability."
The Togruta looked down at her hands. The blisters were gone, replaced by strands of veiny lightning-bolt-shaped scars. She rubbed her hands together in disbelief and was surprised by how dry and scaly they felt. As a Jedi, Ahsoka had thought she was beyond the vain obsession with how she physically appeared, but now she shuddered, imagining what her face might look like.
"In that case, thank you," Ahsoka sighed tiredly.
"He says… Well," Sey'les growled, "Unfortunately, transporting you from Coruscant, going invisible, making you invisible, and then separating our midichlorians has drained him of his energy. He can't open a portal to the Vergence Scatter. He also… Wait, why do you disapprove of Wookiee Ookiees?"
Veryk chittered again, waving his paws angrily at Sey'les, till the sound of another ominous explosion rumbled through the bulkheads. This time it was from a few decks overhead.
Morai hooted in a tone Ahsoka could only describe as morose.
"We're stuck in a planetary system that is very irradiated," Sey'les continued, "So escape pods aren't an option… And we're under attack from a Separatist fleet sent here by the Sith."
Ahsoka rubbed her eyes, shook her head, and then gestured to the beings she just noticed sleeping on the patient beds. She could make out a Bothan, a Rodian, a human, a Clone who felt off in the Force, and a Mon Calamari. "Why are they all asleep? Is that the ship's doctor?!"
"I think you should wake them," Nebhir said dreamily. "There may be injuries since we're getting shot at, and Prophet though you may be, I don't think you are a surgeon." She paused thoughtfully at that, stroking her long whiskers. "On the other hand, if we're all going to die anyways, maybe I'd rather be asleep too when it happens."
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
Kelia braced herself as a turbolaser blast slammed into the deflector shield immediately outside the bridge viewports. A few crewmembers groaned momentarily, taking a few seconds to reorient themselves, and then the action resumed.
"Fire reported on deck nine, section nine aurek. Main computer has activated the automated extinguishers."
"Damage control team to deck nine!" barked another Clone into the comm.
"Geofon is going down. Corusca Rainbow has placed themselves between the evacuating ships and pods and the star as they recover them."
"Derecho and Antarian Ranger have confirmed destruction of two of the Axuilias that Geofon crippled."
The surviving Republic vessels had gathered in a loose defensive formation positioned slightly closer to the star Athega than the Separatist fleet, which was inching closer and closer. Neither side had launched fighters or transports smaller than a Hardcell, and the space between the fleets was illuminated by a constant stream of laser fire.
Kelia closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling as she contemplated their odds.
A deadly star to our backs and a massive Sep fleet in front of us… We're done unless we get help of some kind. Clearly the supposed powers that be are more or less self-interested. If this is it, I just… Wish I'd spent more time with Korsk, Linay, and the kids…
She opened her eyes and turned to the crew pits again. If she was going down, she was going down fighting.
"Status on ventral shields?!" She barked as one of the Consular-class frigates took shelter from Athega above Kestrel's main hangar doors to recharge her own ventral shields.
A Rodian glanced up from the crew pit. "Draining, sir, we're at eighty percent and falling steadily. Some stellar radiation is breaching the shields and degrading our armor."
"And the rest of the fleet?" Kelia asked, knowing the answer.
Yap glanced up, the Clone turning away from his comms console. "Same as us across the board, sir… Except for one vessel. Captain Karath reports that Foretoken's armor isn't being affected substantially by the radiation, only their external sensors."
Kelia paused for a moment considering this. Their armor must be heavy enough to resist the star at this distance. The Tector-class was designed to be a battle-line brawler, taking Separatist ships head-on or broadside.
With that in mind, her hopes rose. We just might have a chance now… But how do we use this…?
"Maybe we can evacuate to the Foretoken," Perth suggested. "Use all of the other ships as decoys… Send them on a collision course while the escape pods—"
"That won't work," Vra'tis interrupted. The Caamasi science officer turned her chair around to face them. "I mean… That won't work, sir. We'll have forty seconds at most before the radiation levels in the escape pods reach potentially-lethal levels for most humanoids. Tectors also have minimal hangar capacity, capable of handling shuttles and ship's boats only. If we all tried to evacuate there, the multi-crew pods alone would overwhelm recovery efforts, to say nothing of the thousands of single-occupant escape pods they'd have to take aboard."
Not to mention that their life support can't handle another thirty-thousand beings coming aboard, Kelia mused internally.
"Well, I don't hear you making any useful suggestions, Lieutenant!" Perth yelled back.
"It's a start," Kelia sighed. A plan was coming together in her mind—not one that ensured their own survival, but at least a plan that would expose Palpatine for his treachery. "Could the Foretoken survive going past Athega?"
"I have an even better plan," Vra'tis said confidently.
Kelia raised her eyebrows. "We don't have time for games. Spit it out."
"Commodore, I'm not an expert in material science. But if the Foretoken can take some more punishment from Athega, then there's a possibility we can survive this by simply clustering together in her shadow."
The Caamasi's fingers fumbled for a moment on her station's keyboard, and a diagram of the Foretoken resolved itself on the science stations holoprojector. Some more button presses later, and the Athega star appeared along with the rest of the Republic fleet. A cone of light projected from the star directly at the Foretoken, but it was the shadow behind the Tector-class Star Destroyer that piqued Kelia's interest.
A Tector-class Star Destroyer was nearly twice as wide as a Venator, and both of the remaining Venators, both Victories, the assault ship, and all of the Republic fleet's accompanying corvettes, frigates, and light cruisers could more or less fit within the Foretoken's shadow if arranged precisely to Vra'tis's projection—essentially using the Foretoken to eclipse the sun in the same way the smaller Consular-class corvettes and DP20 gunships were shielding themselves behind the Kestrel.
"That won't work!" Perth scoffed. "It's absurd! Lining us up like that in such a tight formation will just get us all blasted by the Clankers."
"I think I know where she's going with this," Kelia growled cautiously, narrowing her eyes as she stepped even closer to the projection, gesturing to it with her pointer finger. "We follow the Foretoken, just long enough to get to a safe zone. Our larger ships can afford some minimal exposure, shielding our escorts with their mass."
"Exactly," Vra'tis said. "The only Separatist ships that would be able to catch us are the Recusants, Hardcells, and other smaller craft. And…" She gestured back to the holodisplay, towards the tail end of the Tector's shadow, "The further from the Foretoken a vessel is, the less protection from the sun they will have. Only the Separatist ships who get right on our tails will have protection. The rest will be slowly falling apart."
"What is our destination though?" Kelia asked pointedly.
"Nkllon. It's an inner planet," Vra'tis explained, "Really close to the star Athega. It's never been explored before. Once we're in Nkllon's shadow, orbiting the planet's dark side, we can make necessary repairs and cut another vector out of the system. Hopefully, whatever the Separatists are using to fool our navicomputers would have failed by then."
"Captain, about a quarter of our batteries have yet to report!" a worried voice yelled up from the crew pits.
Kelia turned to Jural, who was staring off into space and had not taken part in any of this important discussion. "Captain? CAPTAIN!"
Jural jumped and seemed to snap out of her daydream. She looked terrible, more tired than Kelia had ever seen her, with matted dark spots under her eyes. "Sorry, sir."
"Helm, set course for a position immediately in front of the Foretoken," Kelia ordered, turning away from Jural for a moment. "Vra'tis, send your navigation data to all ships in the fleet with their courses plotted, but put the Kestrel at the rear. We have a complement of space mines I'd love to shove down those clankers' throats."
"On it," the Caamasi said, punching in the relevant commands on her console.
As the Kestrel turned, the port batteries ceased their fire. The starboard batteries continued blasting in the direction of the Separatist fleet, covering the fleet's reformation. One shot nicked a Hardcell Transport a few hundred meters of the bow, sending it into a rapidly rotating spiral, the rocket-shaped craft beginning to burn up as Athega's deadly light shone upon it.
"Any news on casualties?" Kelia asked the crew pits.
"I've been trying to reach sickbay, but they haven't responded. The 608th's medics are triaging them on site in the meantime," said a Duros ensign.
"Well, try again!" Kelia barked.
"I'm sorry, Commodore," Jural sighed quietly, standing at Kelia's side. "I almost got the entire fighter complement killed… I didn't know—I never expected—"
"Things are very amiss on your own ship, Captain," Kelia snapped, rubbing the fur-covered bruise on her forehead. "There is a fleet of Separatist ships who somehow pulled us out of hyperspace, parsecs away from where we should have been. A fair chunk of the crew is not at their battle stations despite the alert. The sickbay is silent. We don't have time to worry about what could have been."
Jural swallowed hard. "I will figure out what's going on in sickbay."
"Take a blaster," Kelia grunted, "and a team of security troopers with you. Maintain comlink contact with the bridge at all times."
"Aye, sir..." Jural nodded and spun on her heel, heading off the bridge.
o.o.o.o.o
Jural Dan'lya
Jural grimaced as she checked her DC-17 pistol in its holster, eight naval security Clones and four non-Clone Navy Troopers following her as they marched down the corridor to the medical wing.
With the battle visible through the viewports, it was difficult for her to focus on the corridor ahead. But the Clones kept their attention entirely on the hallway ahead, turning their heads only at adjacent corridors to check their sides.
"Jayko, Challenger, cover us from the rear…" She muttered lightheadedly.
"Sir," two of the Clones acknowledged in unison, falling back to watch the rear in case of hostiles.
"Petty Officer Jober, take your men and sweep the surgical wing."
"Yes sir," the human replied, the three grey-uniformed troopers following him as he turned left at a corridor junction.
I need sleep. I can't even remember how long I've been awake…
No, you need to press on, said another voice in her head. Figure this out… She's your ship now. Her problems are your responsibility.
Her ears perked up as she heard voices muffled through the blast doors leading into sickbay. This was some relief, as a small part of her had worried that the medbay itself had somehow been destroyed—even though no damage had been reported.
"Commodore," Jural said quietly into her wrist-comm.
"Yes, Captain?"
"The medbay looks undamaged. There's voices inside—"
Before Jural had even touched the door, it opened with a hiss. Lir Sey'les was standing in the doorway, fur swirling with nervousness. "Good afternoon, Captain."
"SEY'LES! HOW DID YOU—" Jural stopped mid-yell, eyes darting from being to being.
Nebhir, who also should not be loose on the ship, was sitting on the side of a bed that Morai and that purple weasel were standing on. Kev and Fojo were lying on beds on the opposite side of the medbay, while Vex was still cuffed to his bed. The chief nurse, Lieutenant Iven, was standing to their side, booting up the medbay's communication system. His hair looked very messy, like he had just awoken. Doctor Perla, standing in the middle of the room, stared back at Jural, her Mon Calamari eyes round with surprise. Finally, there was another being Jural had never seen before—A visibly-scarred Togruta. A Wookiee, whom Jural recognized as one of the ship's cleaners, stood to the Togruta's side, with Kix standing over her in concern.
"We're slowly getting a handle on things, Captain," Perla said, picking up a clipboard and getting back to what she was doing, several of the Clones powering on medical droids nearby.
"Getting injury reports from six decks!" Iven gasped. "They're triaging in the—What's happening?!"
The Mon Calamari walked over to the communications terminal. "Tell the medics to route injured patients here. It's obvious what happened. These creatures knocked us out without a second thought of the consequences and woke us back up in the middle of a crisis."
"What's going on, Captain?!" Kelia barked into the comm. "Why did you scream Sey'les's name like that?"
"I had her—I had her confined!" Jural snarled, glaring in disbelief at Sey'les. "She sent a message to Ahsoka Tano which could have been intercepted! She stole a datapad, likely Kev's Jedi emergency codes. She is very possibly the reason we are under attack right now. Ahsoka Tano…" Her eyes fell on the Togruta again. Ahsoka Tano.
How the kriff did she get here? Didn't Sey'les send a message to her on Coruscant?!
"What do you mean you 'confined' Sey'les? Why would Sey'les do any of that?"
Sey'les stepped up close to Jural, invading the Captain's private space, and lowered her mouth to the wrist-comm. "Commodore, this is Sey'les."
"I hear that," Kelia sighed.
Jural defensively raised her hand out of Sey'les's biting range. Her Clone escort raised their blasters. "Sey'les, your loyalty is to the Republic, not to these creatures. Nor did I authorize your release. Sharp, take her into custody."
"BELAY THAT!" Kelia's voice barked furiously from Jural's wrist-comm. "Use your head Captain! Even Palpatine can't scramble a fleet this size on at most two hour's notice. They had to have been coming after us from the moment we intercepted Obrexta III. So, honestly, I would rather NOT kriff around with the shabla weasel who can stop blaster bolts while we're under fire from an entire enemy fleet! Now report on sickbay status!"
The overhead lights dimmed slightly, and the floor began to vibrate with the familiar sound of the ion engines coming to life.
"I… Uh…" Jural's snout fell open as she thought this over. Confining Sey'les again would almost certainly evoke the wrath of that purple weasel and maybe the green bird too. Putting her in the brig was, in hindsight, not the best idea. More to the point, she should have expected Palpatine to know about their involvement from the get-go if keeping a lid on Order 66 was as important to him as they'd been told.
"Sickbay is back to normal now, Commodore," Sey'les answered, standing on her tippy toes and raising her snout skywards, allowing her voice to carry into Jural's raised wrist-comm. "The doc has already sent out word… Speaking of casualties, we're getting some now."
"Excuse me, Captain," a Clone said impatiently.
"Out of the way please!" another yelled.
Jural stepped to the side, allowing two gurneys to be pushed in. Sey'les jumped to the front of one, taking it and helping maneuver it to an empty spot Perla gestured towards.
{"I believe we have it under control here,"} Morai's voice echoed in Jural's head.
"Well, that explains why some of the crew were knocked out or dazed," Kelia growled. "That weasel chakaar was mind-controlling the crew… Tell him that unless he wants to get us all killed, he is to stay out of our heads!"
Jural turned to the bed where Veryk and Morai had been standing. It was now empty.
{"Don't punish Lir Sey'les for doing the right thing, and we have a deal,"} Veryk said from nowhere in particular.
Jural scoffed under her breath but stayed her tongue, even as she contemplated the fact they'd casually vanished without a trace.
"Okay then," Kelia sighed, barely audible over the commotion in the room. From the tone in her voice, Jural could imagine the Commodore turning and looking over her shoulder, trying to find the weasel. "I heard that too. This is really weird."
That's putting it lightly… Jural looked around for a second time, scrutinising the room more thoroughly. She half-expected to see Morai or Veryk emerge from a bulkhead. The prospect of Force-sensitive creatures running amok on the ship was unsettling before Veryk had knocked the entire medbay unconscious. Now, it was more distracting than ever.
But another explosion rattled the ship, reminding Jural that she should return to the bridge.