Chapter 92
Moments like this showed very clearly that for all I could plan and take every precaution, that my enemy also had the initiative and could make moves faster than I could anticipate, especially if I was on the ass end of the galaxy and he was sitting snug in his center of power under that damn Shroud.
"What happened?" I asked the holo of HK-47.
The droid was projected in the low light of my quarters aboard the Resolute, giving him a menacing, sinister edge.
"Recitation: Senator Mee Deechi was killed by an explosive hidden inside the chief secretarial meatbag of one of the Loyalist Committee members. They were in an official meeting at the time."
"Any other fatalities?" I asked, my fist clenching involuntarily.
"Answer: None. It was a completely routine meeting. The meatbag aide was simply delivering financial statistics that Senator Deechi had requested."
"When you say inside, do you mean the explosives were surgically implanted?" I asked, though I had a nasty suspicion on where this was leading.
"Answer: Negative, master. Explanation: Any device powerful enough to cause this level of destruction in Deechi's office, would've been detected by the extensive security sensors employed throughout the Senate, even if it was hidden inside a meatbag. The meatbag in question's medical records and itinerary were thoroughly scrutinized by investigators and the Jedi, for up to a year in the past. At no point, as far they can see, could he have been subjected to any surgical procedure."
"So we have two facts telling us that him exploding should be impossible, yet it clearly happened." I sat back in my chair and shook my head. "He was implanted with nano droids as he slept one evening. These droids began the slow process of collecting the materials needed from his own body and his food to engineer a biological explosive, which could then be set off at a predetermined time. In addition, investigators probably found a very convenient manifesto, where the aide in question decries the war and declares his intent to assassinate Senator Deechi, as he's the most prominent voice campaigning for it."
"Amazement: Master, are you sure you didn't do this? That is exactly my own conclusion as well."
"No, I did not," I pursed my lips and scoffed. "It just so happens to be a method I'm familiar with and have seen it used to frame someone for a crime. Nano droids are obscure technology and have only been rediscovered recently, since the technology was lost during the Interregnum before the Ruusan Reformation. The sensors in the Senate would not be able to detect them, since you need very sensitive close range equipment to even have a chance. Has the official results of the investigation been released yet?"
"Answer: Negative, master. It hasn't been made public yet, but the Umbaran government had investigators there, working side-by-side with the Republic. They knew everything and when the meatbag's confession was made known to them, it seemingly emboldened a powerful isolationist faction within Umbara. Conclusion: Secession became inevitable."
"And now here we are, at the spearhead of an invasion into the Umbara system to prevent them from falling into the CIS fold, lest the Republic lose a major supplier of doonium. Not to mention preventing their advanced technology from strengthening the Separatists. Yet that is just the bright flashy reason everyone is supposed to see, in actuality the enemy wants that technology for his future Empire."
"Statement: It is rather similar in goal to what he wanted to achieve with the Mon Cala."
"Of course, the problem now is that we're going to have to fight a technologically superior foe and not massacre our clone troops in the process," I said, massaging my forehead in thought. "What's the situation with the mercs you hired to guard Deechi secretly?"
"Answer: The meatbag Director Bagwa has paid them for services rendered and dismissed them. Suggestion: Master, they should really be disposed of."
"No, we could really use a good merc team like that in the future. The failure wasn't their fault but they did do a good job otherwise of covering the usual threats. The fact that the enemy had to use nano droids to achieve his goal shows that."
"Abject disappointment: Very well, Master."
"How goes your hunt?"
"Answer: I have located the target, master. Explanation: Currently, building a profile on his movements and habits to determine a suitable ending that fits your required parameters."
"Good, the sooner the better. This battle over Umbara is going to be a clusterfuck and at this point I'm scrambling to do some damage control already. The enemy has a secondary objective here to give the Jedi Order's reputation a double blow."
"Opinion: Something which is quite easy to do, master. Given how the Jedi historically haven't really considered their own public image with regard to their own actions."
I shrugged, "Populism shouldn't dictate what a Jedi does or does not do. That can't change. However, that the Order didn't establish its own communication or public relations office when the war began is a gross oversight that I'm going to give Master Yoda an earful about. There's only so much that Hermione and CSO can do. Especially now that someone as prominent as Sora Bulq defected. The general public of the galaxy is too used to seeing the Jedi as an infallible bastion, when we both know they're not."
"Query: Anything else, master?"
I shook my head, "No, thank you, HK. Keep up the good work."
"Statement: Such a turn of phrase suggests that I am capable of 'slumping' in what I do, master. That is most disturbing."
"Stop playing semantics with my words, HK," I groused.
"Statement: Very well, master. Logging you out."
The droid's holo winked out, plunging my quarters into darkness.
My comlink pinging didn't let me brood for long though. "Tano here."
"Commander, we're about to drop out of hyper for the rendezvous," Yularen's voice said.
"On my way."
Resolute decelerated out of hyper in the Virujansi system.
Waiting for us was Obi-Wan's flagship the Negotiator and another Venator called simply Courage, plus three more Venators with serial numbers instead of names. Clustered around them were six Acclamator carrier variants, meant to ferry the newly constituted 7th Sky Corps of clones and the equipment that would be necessary to fight on a world like Umbara. To put the final cherry on the task group were three ships that were part of a prototype run made by KDY.
Just seeing their slim delta-shaped forms, blistered with massive articulated emitter dishes and actually functioning after their abbreviated space trials, made me want to shake my clenched fist and punch the air in victory. Lira Blissex really deserved something special for making this happen.
A few seconds later, more ships dropped out of hyper, this one a Mandalorian Kom'rk class fighter transport, including a two full squadrons of Fang fighters
"Mandalorian ship Omen and attendant squadrons requesting permission to land, commander," reported the com officer.
"Permission granted, give them priority in the port hangar bay," I ordered immediately from my command chair.
"Are you sure we're going to need them, commander?" Yularen asked delicately under his breath. Just loud enough that only I would hear from his customary position at my right hand.
"You've seen the scout reports, admiral. We're going to need every bit of help to even make it to the surface of Umbara."
There was also the matter that Omen was carrying some specialist equipment aboard her that I'd need before all this was over.
Yularen nodded, conceding the point.
"Incoming transmission from the Negotiator."
"Thank you, coms."
I tapped a few buttons on my chair and the life sized holos of Anakin and Obi-Wan appeared in front of me.
"Masters," I bowed my head at both.
"Padawan Tano, welcome to my humble little fleet," Obi-Wan smiled, his eyes regarding me warmly.
"Took your sweet time getting here, Snips," Anakin gave me a raised eyebrow as he scrutinized me visually and through the Force.
"Logistical issues at the Abhean forward supply base, we were delayed a full day before we could get the Resolute in shape for this campaign."
"Well, we're together and the enemy isn't going anywhere," Obi-Wan explained. "We've already got a blockading fleet in Quas Killiam. The Umbarans are now boxed in on this part of the Trellius Trade Route and they can't send any ships or technology to the Separatists. Our job is to go into the Umbara system and secure the capital, deposing the current Separatist aligned government."
"This is not going to be easy, Master," Anakin folded his arms and gave Obi-Wan a pointed look. "The Umbaran defense grid is practically the best in the galaxy I've seen."
"That is why we're going to spend every second of our half-day journey there planning to breach those defenses. This entire operation is quite short notice, but it's what must be done. I have no doubt that we're going to suffer preventable losses because we're heading into the relative unknown. Umbara is not idly called the Shadow World for nothing."
"Then let's get this campaign on the road."
I bowed to the two men as their holos faded. Then keyed my bridge com circuits, "Nav, synchronize our hyper with the fleet."
"Synchronizing… we're synchronized, commander."
The Venators and Acclimators smoothly turned and began a burn that would see us reach the onward hyper point in just under four hours of realspace travel.
I reached across the Bond with Anakin, whilst tenting my fingers in front of my face. Always handy wearing my style of Mandolorian helmet, to always give the impression that I was there and paying attention to the rank and file of the bridge.
He was ready and had brought Obi-Wan into our mental landscape.
All three of us appeared in my infinite black and white mental lobby.
For this occasion I decided to appear in my Hapan Jedi outfit, whilst the other two men were in more relaxed attire as well, Jedi outfits minus any armor pieces.
Anakin frowned at me immediately, "You're… stronger Snips and there's something else, you carry yourself differently…"
"Courtesy of a bota plant treatment on Drongar and using a Force Shield to cover an entire Juggernaut Tank." I declined to comment on his second observation. I did not want to tell Obi-Wan of my own damn love life, Anakin would naturally find out later.
"Hmmm, so it works," Obi-Wan thoughtfully stroked his beard. "I've been a bit busy to properly keep up with Council reports."
"The problem is, it more than likely won't work for much longer. Evolution happens at hyper speeds on Drongar. I'd give it just under another thirteen months and the bota plant mutates into a form in reaction to everyone's harvesting attempts which will make it useless."
"That… is disappointing." Obi-Wan, master of the understatement.
"I've made contact with Knight Tedrad, the Jedi biologist working on it. He's working on isolating the properties and mechanisms of bota, so it might be possible one day to create a synthetic version of the plant that will work in harmony with the Force, no matter where it's grown. It won't grow on Coruscant, not until that blasted Shroud is gone, but any Agriworld would be ideal anyway."
"That is hopeful news at least. Now what can you tell us of Umbara?"
"We have Jedi Master Pong Krell on the Courage, don't we?" I asked flatly.
Obi-Wan frowned at my tone and gave a glance to Anakin. "Yes, he's in charge of the 212th Attack Battalion. Why?"
"This entire battle is of twofold purpose to the enemy. Ideally he wants us to suffer a defeat here. He hopes the superior Umbaran technology will achieve that. If that happens, the blame will be laid squarely on the Jedi's shoulders. He has also foreseen that even if we achieve victory, the cost will be high enough that it will cause Master Krell to attempt to defect to the CIS. Something Krell will do by in effect committing treason when he purposefully orders clones to their needless deaths and order them to unknowingly fire on one another in the chaos of battle."
"I can't see how we allow that to happen," Anakin shook his head.
"You assume that either of us will be here, master. The enemy wants to preserve our reputation
and so will soon order both of us to be recalled to Coruscant not long after we make planetfall. Krell will take over command of the 501st and 212th. Obi-Wan will be too busy in the north of the planet to help, the same goes for Master Tiin, who'll be in the western sectors."
Anakin began pacing with his hands folded behind his back. "You're saying it'll be up to the 501st to deal with Krell then?"
"As things stand now, yes."
Obi-Wan sighed wearily. "What plan have you concocted now, Ahsoka?"
"There is only one way to head off the blow that the enemy wants to deliver to the Jedi. He wants to strike while the iron is hot in the wake of the Bulq's defection. So we need to do the following…"
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The task force arrived in the Umbara system but didn't leave hyperspace, instead smoothly turning into a carefully calculated circuit that circumnavigated beyond the system's Oort Cloud.
Three Venators opened their hangar bays and began the careful process of launching Z-95s, ARC fighters and Y-Wings directly into the roiling tunnel of hyperspace.
My full attention though was on the various feeds from the cloaked scouts that were randomly orbiting around Umbara itself.
The planet was an orb of dark purples, reds and even pink, with greens and reds at the poles from the local magnetosphere deflecting charged particles. Very little direct sunlight reached Umbara thanks to a dense nebulous cloud that the star had seemingly shrouded itself with. How that happened naturally was still puzzling astrophysicists and many had thrown down their hats in frustration. The star's gravity also should've just gulped in the cloud during its formation, yet it clearly hadn't.
My own opinion was that we were seeing the handiwork of a bored Celestial who wanted to see what happened when you seeded humanoid life to live in perpetual darkness.
The result relevant for us was a species that built a multilayered satellite defense network with thousands of individual satellites and a dozen weapon platforms at least equivalent to a Golan station, that hung around the equator of the planet like a very deadly necklace.
Each Umbaran Golan had many squadrons of what was known as Zenuas 33 starfighters. Nasty versatile fighters that featured a centralized ray shielded bubble cockpit, out of which a very odd durasteel structure blossomed; curved wing struts that formed a large 'D' shape on either side, with most of the systems and internal reactors sitting right behind the pilot bubble. The thing didn't look traditionally assembled so much as it looked as if it was grown into that shape. All the controls inside were holographic and the situational awareness it gave the pilot was unparalleled.
It was armed with a chin mounted articulating plasma cannon of an unknown strength and wing mounted missile pods with equally unknown ordnance.
The Umbarans hadn't let anyone within arms reach of this fighter from the Republic. It was only known at first that it existed and no performance figures were available for it.
The most information we had was passive scans from the scouts as the Umbaran squadrons ran combat drills.
The Umbarans knew we were watching though and hadn't done any live fire exercises, clearly showing us exactly what they wanted us to see.
For example, they had clearly downplayed the acceleration and maneuverability of their fighters, trying to make us think that the Z95 was superior in that regard.
Further complicating the tactical situation, they were sitting behind the mass shadow of Umbara itself. Therefore using hyperspace bombing runs against the defense stations was of limited value. The torpedoes would have to traverse nearly 20 000 km, which given max accelerations of those weapons, meant a full forty seconds of travel time.
"Commander, all squadrons report ready."
"Thank you, coms."
Now hovering in formation above the capital ships were 118 ARC fighters, 432 Z95s and 96 Y-Wings.
I closed my eyes and focused, reaching out towards every pilot encapsulated in a fighter or bomber, then keyed the com circuit, so my voice conventionally reached all of them as well.
"Pilots of Task Group 131, this is Commander Tano. Trust yourselves, your training and your wingman. No matter what we face in the coming battle, we will see it through to the end, together. The enemy knows we are coming, they think they are prepared for us. They think they know us. We will show them that they know nothing."
Every pilot ended up cheering in their cockpits, crowding their individual squadron frequencies with noise and chatter.
"We do our jobs well, we'll all be toasting in the mess after the day is won. I want to see all of you there. Is that understood?"
"YES COMMANDER!"
I smirked and brought Obi-Wan and Anakin into the command circuit, the latter was naturally in his Delta 7B Aethersprite fighter, with Shadow Squadron - who would be in the second wave of fighter launches.
"General Kenobi, we are ready."
Given that the whole thing was his plan, with some input from myself and Anakin, it was only fitting that he give the word to kick off the entire thing.
"Kenobi to the fleet, it's an honor to fight with you all. May the Force be with us. All fighters, begin your attack runs in sequence."
The first wave of fighters divided themselves in half, then began to slowly drift to port and vanished from view into their own hyperspace tunnels, whilst the second half drifted to starboard.
The wave came out of hyper on opposite sides of Umbara, with one group presenting the expected obvious attack vector - the defense platform that was stationed over the Umbaran capital city, whilst the other group attacked a platform that defended a city called Satreec.
A city that was the most populous and industrial outside of the capital.
The Republic fighters were already pushing the buttons on their control yokes, ripple firing torpedoes as soon as the onboard astromechs and computers allowed for the safe launch of the ordnance.
At that moment, over 1320 torpedoes screamed into the orbital space of Umbara.
660 torpedoes in a saturation alpha strike focused on a single orbital defense platform.
Two seconds later, a second similar salvo was fired.
The Umbaran defense platforms, like their fighters, were odd things. Their general spherical shape was ordinary enough, but the shapes and spines jutting out of the thing gave it an almost organic look - reminding me of a puffer fish from hell. The hull was a black and blue alloy, though there were entire sections covered only in the soft blue of their method of shielding.
Then those spines began articulating like turrets, their ends glowing with a lethal green glow.
The platform opened fire.
A storm of green plasma bolts erupted from it and the readings from the cloaked scouts were fascinating. This was not tibanna gas based plasma at all, this was something totally artificial that wasn't mined in nature. These guns were also merging the idea of a rail gun and a plasma caster. Most plasma cannons in the galaxy used magnetic coil discharges combined with refined tibanna explosions to push the confined plasma blast out of a barrel.
The Umbaran cannons clearly outranged anything we were fielding, the confinement fields of their plasma bolts was also superior.
The torpedoes began their evasive maneuvers and they were already being intercepted nearly three thousand kilometers from their target.
I raised a brow at seeing the interception rate the Umbaran platform was achieving, despite the active astromech guided weapons running evasives.
If things continued like this, not a single torpedo would even come close to scratching the shields on the platform. It would be a total shut out.
Thankfully, we had not come to fight this battle using anything like the current tactical doctrine and tactics with regard to torpedo salvoes.
The first salvo was just to test the waters anyway, forcing the Umbarans to reveal their cards.
Torpedoes in the first wave winked out in droves in what was the most elegant display of ordinance interception that I had ever witnessed. If there wasn't a higher level droid intelligence at work here, easily on the level of HK, then I'd eat my lightsaber. No… the entire platform might as well have been a 'droid' in its own right.
The second salvo streaked in the path of its unfortunate predecessor.
The platforms began orientating and aiming their weapons.
The astromechs now clearly getting used to the enemy interception methodologies began weaving the courses of the torpedoes into a coordinated yet chaotic dance for the enemy targeting to be confused by.
The second salvo also carried our surprise for this battle.
At the exact proper moment, just before the enemy interceptor droid intelligence could begin firing, every second torpedo in the Republic salvo unfurled their casings explosively and gave rise to five smaller, dedicated Electronic Warfare torpedoes.
To every scanner in existence, 620 torpedoes became an angry cloud of over 7700 weapons bearing down on the Umbaran platform.
Each EW torpedo simulated the electronic existence of five torpedoes and using holo tech could even sell the illusion in the normal visual spectrum. They also interrogated any incoming enemy scan locks and used spoofing and spectrum cancellation to break the targeting locks on the true torpedoes in the formation.
Yet despite the overload of EW we were giving the Umbarans, it didn't take that defense platform long to find a way to cope somewhat with it.
In one storm of interceptor fire it slapped 175 torpedoes out of space.
Another interceptor salvo as the ranges went down, whittled it down even further.
Twenty seven torpedoes made it through.
The orbital space of Umbara flashed with bright white light as they detonated against the shields of the defense platform.
When sensors cleared I was somewhat astonished to see the thing still in one piece, even if the detonations had clearly stripped the majority of the surface weaponry and there were numerous gaping holes in the structure.
A few seconds later a small nova of light erupted on the other side of the planet. Our EW had been vastly more successful here, and it had allowed 93 torpedoes to initiate their terminal attack runs.
Almost nothing was left of the platform at all. The expanding debris cloud and energy had torn a gaping hole in the defense satellite coverage on that side.
Umbaran starfighters scrambled out of the ten undamaged platforms like a hive of angry bees, all of them burning hard towards our own fighters, who had accelerated away from the planet, keeping the option of retreating into hyper for themselves.
We were now forcing an unpleasant calculus on the enemy commander.
Satreec was now wide open and defenseless from space.
The platform over the capital was badly damaged.
Umbaran society as a whole was governed by a council consisting of people who hailed from a royal caste of their society. Their seat was naturally in the capital, but the loss of Satreec would be equally unacceptable if they were to keep their value to the CIS cause. Occupying or destroying it would mean no surplus advanced technology could be shipped offworld. There were other industrial centers, the loss wouldn't cripple the Umbarans, but it was a very bitter pill to swallow.
"Now we see what they value," I said idly, as I watched the movements of their fighter squadrons intently.
Umbarans seemed to prefer a ten ship squadron as opposed to the Republic's 12, which was further divided into two flights of four, with a two ship third flight, that alway hung back in the formation.
Then the majority of enemy fighters went to cover the capital city, with only two hundred fighters racing towards the space over Satreec to fill the gap.
The Republic fighters on that side of the planet burned to pull themselves back into range and released a torpedo salvo at the next platform.
Those over the capital were pulling range but not far enough that they would appear unthreatening. The Z95s also began launching mass concussion missile salvos at the incoming Zenuas fighters.
"Commander Tano, the second fighter wave is ready," Yularen announced.
"Launch," I ordered into the squadron circuits.
The second wave of fighters slid away from their capital ships in hyperspace before synchronizing into their own hyper tunnels and heading for Umbara.
There would be no splitting of forces this time and a full strike armada of three hundred fighters emerged from hyper, placing themselves squarely between the Umbaran defense line and their stretched out fighters that were still chasing the first Republic strike group.
Another torpedo salvo was launched at the damaged defense platform, before the second strike group turned around and burned straight for the enemy fighters.
The first strike group stopped feigning retreat and turned around, streaking towards their pursuers.
The four hundred Umbaran fighters now found themselves in a rapid closing vice of Republic fighters.
Both strike groups launched concussion missiles to close the deadly trap.
The Umbarans didn't take this on the chin and they fired their own mass missile volley.
Space rapidly became a chaotic mess of electronic warfare, countermeasures and missiles. The starfighters of both sides rapidly pushed themselves into evasive maneuvers. To add even more chaos, the Umbaran platform over the capital finally exploded into an expanding mass of debris and plasma.
I winced inwardly as the inevitable death began on both sides as fighters exploded from the missile duels.
"Nav, plot an emergence for Resolute, Negotiator and Courage, the Bastion ships behind us in relative safety," I poked my finger into the tactical holo, directly for the neighboring defense platform of the capital, "the other three Venators will start their attack over Satreec."
"Understood commander… emergence plotted."
"Guns, as soon as you have the power, begin charging our main gun. AM missiles will target the satellite grid. Fire as you bear with our turbolasers… Nav, take us in."
A few seconds later the constant tunnel of hyperspace shattered into streaks of light before resolving into the infinite void of space.
Umbara went from being as small as a penny, then enlarged to dominate the forward view from the bridge.
The instant our emergence momentum from the hyperspace exit finished, the three Venators and their Bastion cruiser support ships orientated for a burn, pushing us into the mass shadow of Umbara.
A mass launch of AM missiles from all three Venators erupted, drawing scintillating blue lines through space as they streaked away into space at over 4000 G.
The individual defense satellites had fighter scale guns for the most part, a single box launcher of concussion missiles, but also a larger sub-capital scale beam laser. A single satellite was no threat, but a full dozen firing on the same target would ruin anyone's day.
They began firing frantically in their own defense, but it had none of the elegant efficiency of the defense platforms. It made up for that by the sheer weight of grouped fire.
Nevertheless, AM missiles began hitting their targets and shattering the satellites with brief hammers of proton energy liberation.
"We're being targeted by the closest platform," Sensors announced as the Resolute and her formation entered into effective theoretical range.
"Keep your course, Guns, open fire the instant you can," I ordered.
"Roger, commander."
The first weapons to enter range were naturally torpedoes and the three Venators began the duel with launching 64 heavy proton torpedoes rapidly. The Umbaran platform responded by shooting back a respectable salvo of similar torpedoes, but it was immediately clear to me that these platforms, for all their sophistication, were built with the pre-war mentality of energy weapons being the dominant weapon system.
If I had carte blanche to design that weapons platform, with the amount of power, space and Umbaran technology at my disposal, I'd have been able to drown any attacker in long range torpedoes.
Every fourth torpedo from our fire was an EW missile, that deployed and created multiple ghost signatures.
AM missiles fired shortly after, seeking to kill the incoming Umbaran weapons.
I watched anxiously as the battle in the electronic sphere was fought with ferocity, as weapons sought and lost target locks. It was a battle that Resolute was fighting herself, using her massive communication arrays, retrofitted to also fight that in the electronic battlespace, spoofing and flatlining enemy targeting emissions as quickly as the droids could scan and react.
Thirteen enemy torpedoes made it through our defensive AM screen.
Six were successfully spoofed to utterly lose their targeting locks and veer off into a random direction where they would run out of energy and fuel or burn up in Umbara's atmosphere.
Our inner defenses engaged the remainder, but three managed to reach their terminal attack points and detonated on the Resolute's forward shields.
I felt the decks shuddering under my feet as I closed my eyes reflexively to shield them from the brief glare of detonation. The bridge lighting flickered slightly before recovering.
"Forward shields down to an effective sixty percent, commander," reported Engineering.
The three Bastion ships being screened behind us didn't even need the order and their captains sprung into action.
I looked into the holo and smirked as the computer rendered what was happening for my convenience. There was no actual visual effect in space for the process, as much as my inner nerd wished it so.
The Bastions locked onto the Resolute and within the space of ten seconds, rebuilt the forward shields to an effective 94%.
The rebuild wasn't perfect and I brought up an engineering diagram of the shield geometries and strengths.
"Definitely still some kinks to work out," I mumbled.
"Remarkable," Yularen breathed with a rare display of awe in his voice.
The Republic torpedo barrage weathered the enemy counterfire, only 19 torpedoes had survived to the enemy inner perimeter and the Umbaran satellites in range killed another nine, but that still meant ten heavy torpedoes detonated onto the shields of the defense platform.
Those shields popped like a bubble before the residual proton energies washed over the structure.
What was left was a smoldering wreck that was venting atmosphere as it lost power to the various shields that kept it inside. Secondary explosions started erupting, sending debris and brief flame spewing outward.
"Ordnance explosions," Yularen commented grimly.
Something inside gave up the ghost, when in a final titanic flash, a characteristic fusion reactor explosion occurred.
The ranges closed down even further and on the other side of the planet the Venators led by Master Tiin managed another defense platform kill.
"Entering extreme range with guns, commander."
"Fire at will, Guns. Let's clean up this sky."
The three Venator's turbolaser and AA guns erupted with blue bolts, beginning to swat away every satellite that came into range.
Concussion missiles began erupting from all the satellites. Most of these were set to ballistic modes, because of the range.
"Nav, keep us on course for the next platform. I want our main gun for this one."
The concussion missiles were swatted away en masse by our inner AA defenses, but some did leak through, to merely plink away at our shields.
On the other side of the planet, the Venators and Republic fighters had rejoined and were now involved in a full close range dogfight with the enemy Zenuas 33 fighters.
On the Resolute's port side, just beyond the mass shadow of the planet, the fighter battle there was devolving from an elegant missile duel into a nasty close range furball of plasma cannons. It was such a mess from this range, squadrons and fighters from both sides were getting heavily intermingled.
I reached across the Bond to Anakin to gauge if I needed to scramble some reserve fighters to help.
'We're fine Snips, their plasma guns are nasty, but their rear arc is the most vulnerable point. Fatalities on our side are ticking up, but we're burning them out of space faster. I'll call if we need it. You focus on your job.'
"Entering into range of the next platform," announced Sensors.
"Time to torpedo readiness?"
"One minute, thirty nine seconds," answered Guns.
I gritted my teeth beneath my lips as the enemy platform ahead of us spewed a barrage of sixty heavy torpedoes and we were stuck in a reload cycle.
AM missiles roared out from the Venators in defense, EW arrays flooding the spectrum ahead of us with directional jamming and spoofing.
"Commander, some of those torpedoes are definitely targeting the Bastions," announced Sensors.
"Tano to all Bastion cruisers, your shield repairs to yourselves have priority, we can take a few hits, but if you die, we lose all our endurance in this fight."
"Understood, commander," replied one of the captains.
28 enemy torpedoes made it through our outer defense.
13 were killed or spoofed by our inner defenses.
Eight made it through for terminal attack runs.
Five were targeted onto the Resolute's forward shields.
The ship shuddered, lights flickered and overloads tripped on the bridge, sparks flying from panels and overhead.
"Report!" I winced.
"Our forward shields are barely holding!"
Three torpedoes attacked the Bastion Cruiser Epiphany.
The detonations writhed the cruiser in proton hammers of energy that briefly ghosted our scanners with static given how close they were.
The screens cleared and I blinked in amazement when the Epiphany was still there!
It hardly looked like it had been touched at all!
The captains of the Bastions had reacted in time and transferred all their repair capacity to the Epiphany.
I watched as the cruiser's shields ticked from twenty to sixty percent, then eighty and ninety!
"Frakking yes!" I shouted in triumph, punching the armrest of my command chair.
"Main gun in range, commander," Guns announced. "Firing!"
The massive collimated laser drew itself instantly from the emitter in the ventral bay, connecting itself to the Umbaran platform.
The shields offered the briefest resistance, the bubble pushing itself into the visible spectrum, before it vanished barely a second later and the beam started biting into the hull.
It happened so quickly, that only a Jedi could perceive the chain of events.
The beam cored through the spherical platform and then it left even Jedi perceptions behind.
A shockwave of liberated energy was released in a massive bubble that was only visible because of the expanding shell of debris, gasses and fire.
The platform was reduced to four large pieces spinning wildly out of control that leaked further debris like scintillating reflective blood out into space.
Only my farsight could spot the bodies of the Umbaran crew being ejected as well. Most were in pressure suits, but the majority of them were already dead due to other causes too numerous to even think about.
"Epiphany's shield repairs are landing on us," reported Sensors.
My eyes turned to the command holo and I watched as the Resolute's shields ticked back up to eighty percent this time.
I tapped my controls to speak directly to the chief engineer, "Engineering, any ideas why we can't get back to full shields?"
"It seems the Bastion repairs aren't aligning with our geometries properly, I'm not entirely sure why, commander-"
Chewie's Shyriiwook blurted into the comms, "Ahsoka, it's the space around us. This system has a high particulate count from the Ghost Nebula. It's degrading the energies and fouling the shield alignment trajectories in the process. The error is cumulative on our own shield emitters."
"Can we compensate, Chief?"
"Well, what do you know, the big guy's correct as far as I can see, commander. Now that I know what to look out for… give me a moment. I need a few minutes to write a program that needs to go to the Bastions as well for implementation."
"How long, Chief?" I asked pointedly.
"If you can give us twenty minutes commander, you'll have full shields."
"Do so," I ordered. "General Kenobi-"
"The Negotiator will take point, yes," Obi-Wan said, but I heard the hint of a smile as he said it.
"Nav, bring us into the port slot of the formation, let the Negotiator take lead."
"Roger, commander!"
"Bastions, what's your charge levels?"
"Recharging just fine, commander. You'll have our repairs by the time you need it."
A warning alert brought my attention to the command holo, just in time to see Venator S4035 lose shields and take a nasty torpedo hit right on the forward wedge of its hull.
It just barely kept its structural integrity but it was clearly out of the fight, as the other Venators charged forward and pulverized the Umbaran platform that had managed the deed. It would've been nice to have more Bastions, but their full production runs hadn't been authorized yet until we sent back data and reports on whether they could do the job under battlespace conditions.
The Republic fighters on that side of the planet had achieved superiority, losing nearly thirty percent of their numbers in the process. They were doing much work in easing the pressure on the Venators, attacking defense platforms with their remaining torpedoes and even assisting in shooting down incoming enemy weapons.
The fighter battle outside the mass shadow was going much more poorly. Just a single glance told me it was going to be a pyrrhic victory at best.
My battle meditation, which had been a light blanket on the crews of the Venators, increased in strength until I was able to layer over the combatants of the giant fighter furball.
It really helped that Anakin was there as well, giving me an effective conduit to help my projections.
"General Kenobi," I prompted.
Obi-Wan was very quick on the uptake, having felt my battle meditation increasing in scope.
"I have tactical command," he announced to the fleet.
My focus and concentration shifted, my world becoming the vast distances of space and tiny spirits twinkling in that void, surrounded by energy and metal, trying to survive the hostile environment. Their lethal intentions speared outward in plasma and missile.
Republic fighters began reacting to threats moments faster, beginning to perceive more than just what their instruments told them. A nudge here and a clone pilot flipped his fighter around, coasting on momentum, triggering his cannons into deflection shots that nailed an Umbaran fighter, dropping its shields. The pilot's wingman fired as well a moment later, causing the enemy fighter to explode into debris.
Reluctantly, my will began pushing down on the Umbaran pilots.
These were men who were just defending their home. They didn't care about politics or grand machinations of the CIS or Republic. There was just their little bubble of responsibility and their wingmen. Some had families, others were single or they were the pride of their families.
I pushed such considerations to the back of my mind and refocused.
This was war.
The blood of these pilots was on the architect of the war and I had my own men to worry about.
My meditation pushed down on the psyches of the Umbaran pilots.
You will not win.
Go home, surrender. Live another day to see your families.
Your cause is hopeless.
I stared through the Resolute's bridge viewports at the barely contiguous wreckage of Venator S0984, the second and last ship lost to the orbital defense grid surrounding Umbara.
Search and rescue operations were underway as there had been enough time for a majority of the crew to get to escape pods when the writing had been on the wall for the ship.
One destroyed Venator, another mission-killed that might be hyperspace worthy enough to return to KDY under its own power and fighter losses of just over forty percent. Add in the starship crew deaths, that numbered in the thousands and the butcher's bill was just barely tolerable within the regs.
The only thing that kept the entire invasion going was the fact that we had kept every Acclamator away from the battle.
In that regard, the fleet had yet to penetrate the Umbaran atmosphere, because every tug and ship with a tractor beam was on space cleanup duty to keep orbits and flight paths safe enough for general use.
The aerospace around the planet was also far from secure and ready squadrons had already been engaged by more Umbaran fighters launching from air bases on the surface.
For the last eight hours it felt like I had been playing a planetary sized game of whack-a-mole.
The air bases were not obvious from space and many had been built into mountains and canyons. Every time the Umbarans sent a squadron, which were bristling with mounted torpedoes, we identified the base's location and retaliated with a combined ARC and Z95 strike to destroy the base.
Keeping the fleet's fighters in good condition was working their crews to the bone.
Even the Mandalorian fighter squadrons were out there, just because we needed every fighter in space to keep the Umbaran defenders suppressed.
For safety, I had the entire fleet in one formation with the Bastions ready to bring their shield repairs to bear. That unfortunately meant that the blockade duty was another task that the fighters had to partially bear.
Four shuttles and cargo ships of various types had already tried their luck to run the blockade.
After they had been disabled, their crews detained and the ships inspected, it turned out that they had been crammed to the brim with umbarans. At first in interviews they had simply professed to be refugees who hadn't agreed with the decision to secede from the Republic. Obi-Wan had immediately smelled a rat though.
"How many?" I asked Anakin as he came to a stop next to me.
"Nineteen engineers and scientists," he answered.
"And every single one volunteered to run the blockade?"
He nodded, "I have to give the umbarans credit though. When they say they're going to follow through on a deal, they do it. They agreed to a partial technology share with the CIS and despite everything that happened they still threw the dice on getting these scientists through."
"And they're loyal and patriotic enough that the scientists won't spill those secrets to us in turn. Not unless we resort to mindwalkers or interrogation, the latter of which will neatly condemn the Republic as being everything the CIS says it is."
"There will be those, especially in Republic Intel, who will see the Umbarans as outright traitors, Snips. That will excuse them to do… terrible things," Anakin said, his eyes smoldering with anger at the thought.
'Another blow by the enemy,' I thought to him. 'His corruption of the Republic is starting to bear terrible fruit and yet no one is seeing it.'
A long silence settled on us, as we watched the rescue shuttles and tugs working around the dead Venator, yet I could sense it wasn't an entirely comfortable one.
I carefully picked apart the emotions I sensed from Anakin, being careful to present no inner and outward clue as to what I was doing. It took me a few moments to parse, but I eventually found a strange form of guilt and another emotion entangled with it that I couldn't make sense of.
Now that was no good. We had an invasion to launch and this was not the time for emotional issues like this to rear their ugly head. Our heads had to be in the game.
'Anakin, what's the matter?' I thought softly.
He was now standing somewhat stiffly with his hands folded behind his back. He gave me a brief glance before returning his eyes to the view outside.
'It's…'
'Stop right there. I will not accept the words 'fine' or 'it's nothing'. Spill it, Anakin.'
He was clearly struggling to bring the words forward, to say it across the Bond. I found it amazing that the subject could even choke someone's thoughts off. I already knew what was bothering him but I wasn't going to let him chicken out.
His hands clenched and I even saw his jaw straining as his teeth exerted pressure on each other.
'You had sex on Drongar.'
'Well done, Skyguy,' I mentally giggled. His angry eyes speared me with a brief look.
'I fail to see what is so funny about it.'
'I should really save my armor's cam memory for today. That face you're making is classic.'
'Snips!'
'Don't Snips me, Anakin. Remember, I'm technically far older than you are. That I've reached an age in this life where I'm biologically and legally allowed to have sex is amazing!'
'It's not amazing. Who was it?'
I sighed and rolled my eyes visibly, steeling myself for the conversation to come. 'Knight Zac Tedrad.'
'The biologist you 'recruited'?'
'The very same. He's very dreamy and excellent in bed. I think it's something all Zeltrons have instinctually, though he's quite practiced. The Chapterhouse he was raised in was remarkably open minded about the whole thing apparently. He also did this trick with my lekku that I didn't even know was possible-'
His eyes widened, 'Gah! Snips! Too much information!'
'And how do you think I feel when you and Padme are going at it in proximity to me?' I retorted. I could sense he was squirming and didn't want to answer that. 'Precisely Anakin. I want you to imagine for a moment that you didn't have sex for sixty years. Can you do that?'
He couldn't really but I felt him balk in horror at the idea. 'Somewhat.'
'Now I fully admit that for the majority of those years I wasn't physically capable of it anymore, old age, lost the drive for it. Now BANG, suddenly I'm this new me and going through childhood, puberty and so on again. Oh, and I just happen to fall in love with a human woman, then if that wasn't bad enough, I go and fall for my master, who just so happens to be secretly married to that woman. In the meantime, I've got a bunch of busybodies back on Mandalore who want me betrothed and eventually producing heirs for politics! So are you beginning to get the picture, Anakin?!"
'You… you just wanted a fling. Something uncomplicated. No commitments. You knew Tedrad would go for it because it's in his very nature.'
'Precisely. He is now just a friend with benefits. I hold no love for him, nor does he for me. Does that alleviate your jealousy, Anakin?"
'Not really,' he said in a frankly stunning level of admission. It showed just how much different Anakin now was in comparison to the one who eventually became Vader. 'In the end, no matter what else I might feel, you're still my padawan, Ahsoka. You know that comes with responsibilities and duties. I made an oath to you…'
'Argh,' I mentally snarled. 'There are times I just feel like ripping these silka beads off!'
'But you know you can't,' he said softly. I felt his spiritual presence coming close and wrapping me in the equivalent of a hug. 'Obi-Wan would say one word now, and I can't believe I'm repeating it because I'm proving myself the biggest hypocrite in the galaxy… patience, Ahsoka.'
I felt my shoulders slumping. 'Patience,' I thought despondently.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyes soft and gave that annoying half smile, "Come, Snips. We have an invasion to begin."
"Yes, master."
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