The First Fleet of the New Republic was unaware, but the Battle of Coruscant had already begun.
As Star Destroyers, cruisers, corvettes, frigates, gunships, and fighters stood poised fleet against fleet, as if neither side dared to strike first, one combat unit was already preparing to deliver a blow.
— Systems are operational, missiles loaded, — Alex stated in a matter-of-fact tone as Tomax settled into the pilot's chair. — Engines are purring like well-fed rancors, and the afterburner chambers are gleaming like a vornskr's…
— Spare me the details, — Bren interrupted, connecting the life-support system to the onboard equipment. After confirming the suit's stable operation, he activated the comlink. — "Scimitar Leader" to OCC. Ready to execute the assigned task.
— OCC to "Scimitar Leader," — the dispatcher responded. — Understood. You have clearance for takeoff. Targets have been transmitted. *Chimaera* has begun its maneuver. Angular velocity is three point nine; remain vigilant. You have two minutes for the attack. Good hunting, "Scimitar Leader."
— Acknowledged, — those irrepressible jokers in the control center again. So many unnecessary words. — Alex, be ready. We're moving out.
— Always ready, — the technician replied. — What are we bombing this time?
— A communications station in high orbit, — the captain clarified.
The *Scimitar*, emerging from the cargo hangar of the *Chimaera*, indeed witnessed the flagship Star Destroyer performing a longitudinal rotation, turning its ventral side toward the enemy fleet.
And it wasn't just the *Chimaera* executing this maneuver—every Star Destroyer and heavy cruiser followed suit.
A classic Marg Sabl maneuver—rotating the ventral side toward the enemy to shield fighters positioned in the upper hemisphere from enemy barrage fire.
A tactical maneuver as old as space travel itself.
But in Thrawn's hands, even such a simple action spelled the destruction of the enemy.
— Target locked, — Alex announced. — Distance: one hundred eighty-seven units. Course: three-four-four, vector clear. Enemy fighters near the target. PLAE is ready.
— Jink in three, two, one, — the commander's hand rested on the throttle lever and smoothly pushed the mechanical switch forward.
The accelerator roared silently, propelling the craft toward its target.
Four seconds later, Tomax returned the throttle to its neutral position, then veered the ship aside, dodging fire from two enemy X-wings that, startled by the sudden appearance of a Dominion vessel in close proximity, fired wildly.
But Captain Bren's fire was as precise as ever.
The *Scimitar*'s laser cannons instantly reduced one of the New Republic's T-65s to debris, while the second opted to break off, banking to pursue the unexpectedly agile and formidable opponent from its rear.
Pushing the sublight engine to maximum, Tomax allowed the power plant to carry the ship farther from the engagement and closer to the target.
— Prepare for attack, — Bren said, spotting the communications station ahead.
Positioned in high orbit around Coruscant, beyond both layers of the galactic capital's planetary shield, the station rivaled a corvette in size.
Its purpose was to transmit messages within the sector and serve as a backup for the sector's relay, redirecting signals to nearby equivalents if the primary transmission device failed.
Yet it lacked any defenses.
Tomax fired the laser cannons, watching as white-green beams stripped away several communication antennas.
— Missiles ready for launch, — Alex reported.
— Launch, — Tomax ordered, noting the target centered in the rectangular targeting reticle.
The *Scimitar*'s bomb bays opened, releasing cumulative self-propelled ordnance into space.
— Three enemies at eight o'clock, — Alex's voice sounded in the helmet, so casual that…
Bren nearly released the controls.
The clock-face orientation was professional slang among many specialists, including pilots. That Alex used it—and used it correctly—indicated the technician had grown adept in their shared craft.
This was promising.
His partner was no longer dead weight.
— Acknowledged, — Bren replied, noting the enemy fighters were sluggish B-wings, nicknamed "wishbones," which would struggle to catch the *Scimitar* before…
— I confirm the communications station has been hit, — Alex declared.
No confirmation was needed: thirty-two cumulative missiles, meeting no resistance, obliterated the station that could have disrupted the Coruscant system's information blackout.
Now, the only recourse for Republic forces was communicating with the planet from orbit.
Nothing more.
They could have disrupted that too, but breaching the planetary shields to destroy the low-orbit, low-power station would be inefficient—it would require a fleet.
— "Scimitar Leader" to *Chimaera* OCC, — Tomax said, turning the craft back toward the flagship, which, like the other Star Destroyers, continued presenting its ventral side to the enemy. — Mission accomplished. Communications station destroyed.
— Return to base, "Scimitar Leader," use the second upper echelon, — the dispatcher ordered. — Technicians have prepared the next munitions loadout.
So, they were to navigate above the upper formation of heavy cruisers. The fleet's attack sector would span the Star Destroyers and two echelons of heavy cruisers.
Unorthodox logic, but sometimes such logic saved lives.
— Acknowledged, — the enemy fighters, reacting belatedly to the loss of a critical asset, moved toward Bren's craft. — Returning.
Touching the PLAE controls, Tomax sent the *Scimitar* into a jink, leaving the furious Republic pilots in the dust.
***
When Leia managed to push through to the central war room, the first person she encountered was General Carlist Rieekan.
A compatriot who had commanded Echo Base on Hoth and was one of the New Republic's most prominent commanders, Rieekan was a member of the New Republic's Unified Command. This military unit reported directly to Coruscant's provisional government, responsible for shaping military strategy and developing plans that were then reviewed…
Leia felt a lump rise in her throat.
The broadcast of *Home One*'s destruction and the total devastation of the staging base on Centax-II still lingered in her mind.
Whether Admiral Ackbar was aboard or if the event was another of Grand Admiral Thrawn's masterful deceptions—honed to the level of virtuosic theater over recent months—remained uncertain.
Yet, deep down, Leia suspected the ostentatious destruction of the base, executed so ruthlessly after Thrawn's broadcast drew millions of sentients on Coruscant and in space to their holoscreens, was no fabrication. The Grand Admiral had likely settled a score with the celebrated admiral.
Who was supposed to have defeated Thrawn…
Meanwhile, according to the tactical hologram, the New Republic's First Fleet had begun to move, launching a massive fighter assault against the Grand Admiral.
The fleets had not engaged in direct combat due to the vast distance between them—twice the range of turbolasers. At such a distance, turbolasers, let alone proton torpedoes or anti-ship missiles launched from starships, could do no harm to Thrawn's Star Destroyers.
Even if turbolaser bolts reached their target without dissipating, they wouldn't scratch the hull.
Thousands of small craft—fighters and bombers of various types and military purposes—surged toward their target.
General Rieekan offered a tight smile as Leia approached.
— Princess, — he nodded in greeting.
— General, — Leia's return nod went unnoticed as the commander studied the monitor's readings.
Standing to the general's left, Leia felt a fleeting sense of déjà vu, realizing something similar had happened before.
A stronghold of freedom fighters under Imperial attack, Rieekan grappling with the situation, and she, a young idealist, struggling to comprehend the dire circumstances.
She even recalled where it had happened.
Echo Base on Hoth.
Six years had passed, yet the situation was repeating itself…
Leia's Hoth flashbacks.
She glanced again at the unfolding events—this time at the data capturing Rieekan's attention.
Coruscant's planetary shields were active—both layers.
The capital's security forces command had opened a corridor in both shield layers to allow squadrons from ground bases, part of the second wave of reinforcements, to ascend to orbit and join the imminent, bloody clash between the opposing forces.
Leia observed the fighters launched from ships and the first wave of reinforcements moving slowly, allowing the second wave to catch up…
— Here we go, — Rieekan said. — Drayson has consolidated all our fighters into a single fist.
— Drayson? — Leia voiced her confusion. When Bel Iblis suggested the Republic Intelligence Director would lead the defense, she hadn't expected it to be true.
Surely there were other commanders, like Rieekan…
— Ackbar is likely dead, Admiral Nantz will soon arrive at Chandrila, — Rieekan explained grimly. — So Drayson's in charge. Experience…
— Yes, experience in commanding large forces, — Leia had no issue with Drayson, but her nascent Force sensitivity screamed that Mon Mothma had made a grave error in appointing him.
Drayson was competent, certainly…
Unlike most New Republic commanders—Han, Lando, Wedge—he had both academic training and extensive military experience, not just one or the other.
But to counter Grand Admiral Thrawn, competence alone wasn't enough. Ackbar was supremely competent, and now, it seemed, he was dead.
Along with the exemplary officers of his flagship.
Leia wanted to protest that Bel Iblis was a superb tactician—not Ackbar, but…
She held her tongue.
Because no sentient in the New Republic was more qualified than Admiral Ackbar.
And if he couldn't prevail, then…
— Have we contacted the squadron covering Anaxes? — she asked. — Called for additional support…
Rieekan gave a sad smile.
— I doubt we'll hear from them before the Grand Admiral accomplishes whatever he came here to do.
Leia looked at her compatriot, puzzled.
— Thrawn's forces just destroyed the communications station in high orbit, — Rieekan explained. — Its low-orbit counterpart can't break through the interference caused by the planetary shields. Worse, when the station was still active, we sent a message through the relay.
— And got no response? — A chill ran down her spine.
— Exactly, — Rieekan nodded. — It seems what happened to the relay in the Oplovis sector was a rehearsal for the assault on Coruscant.
— You think Thrawn intends to capture the planet? — the Alderaanian princess asked, horrified.
— I don't think he has the forces to take the planet, — Rieekan said. — He must know he's facing only part of the First Fleet. Many ships are repelling attacks on other worlds or holding positions in the Core Worlds. Once word spreads that he's attacked the capital, forces will arrive to grind him into interstellar dust, no matter his military genius. He can't breach the planetary shield in that time.
— But he has a *Torpedo Sphere*, — Leia reminded him.
— It's not here now, — Rieekan countered reasonably. — Securing such a weapon requires significant escort ships, as the Sphere, while fearsome, isn't invincible. The Empire only deployed them with powerful fleet groups. So whatever Thrawn's planning, he can't hold Coruscant until our reinforcements arrive.
"If they arrive," Leia thought grimly, recalling the Grand Admiral's tactic of dividing and destroying enemy forces piecemeal.
Pointing this out now was futile—if Thrawn had set a trap for the twelve squadrons sent to attacked systems, there was nothing they could do.
A red flash sparked on the tactical hologram, followed by another.
— A waste of energy, — Rieekan said with a hint of irritation. — Thrawn knows our defenses, so his ships aren't even approaching orbit or our fleet. Drayson's taking unnecessary risks by opening shield segments.
— But you said Thrawn's ships are too far for bombardment…
— Yet they somehow destroyed our communications station beyond the shield, — Rieekan reminded her. — Sabotage or some deceptive maneuver—by opening shield segments, Drayson's making us act recklessly.
— We need a new commander, — Leia said quietly. — Before Drayson enables Thrawn to bombard the surface.
— Or worse, ion cannons, with their high power, could hit our orbital defense stations, — Rieekan noted.
— Or our own ships, — Leia added softly.
— The worst part is something else, — the Alderaanian declared. — Drayson clearly intends to attack Thrawn with fighters. It's our trump card—light force strikes. He likely wants to damage Thrawn's capital ships before our fleet closes in. Drayson's afraid Thrawn has superior firepower in his line ships, so he wants to level the playing field early. But this approach leaves our fleet's ships exposed. Yes, it's standard tactics, and we have more fighters, but predictable moves against the Grand Admiral… Look, — Carlist pointed at the holographic projection of the Dominion's ship positions. — Thrawn didn't execute the Marg Sabl maneuver for nothing. Our fighters will engage his ships, and he'll counter with a pincer attack using his fighters. Even outnumbered, the Imperials could destroy thousands of our ships and pilots!
The situation was growing more troubling by the second.
Drayson might be an excellent fleet commander, but in planetary defense, Rieekan was far more experienced. His judgments were logical, consistent, and reasonable.
If they could find Mon Mothma and convince her to entrust command to Rieekan…
Leia caught a glimpse of a lone figure among the crowd moving to the balcony encircling the command center's upper level.
Bel Iblis. She had just spoken with him!
And hadn't considered that a man who fought the Empire for years without Alliance resources, even disrupting an Ubiqtorate base, could be far more valuable here among the commanders than on the sidelines.
— We must convince Mon Mothma to transfer command to Bel Iblis, — Leia declared, attuned to the Force.
He had no counterargument.
Yes, Thrawn may have defeated Iblis in direct confrontation, but Iblis had fewer ships then.
Now, he had the core of the First Fleet!
And before the fighters closed to a dangerous distance, they needed to reach Mon Mothma and cancel the suicidal attack!
— General Iblis, I… — Leia began.
— Comlink with you? — he interrupted sharply.
— Yes, — Leia, thrown off, didn't understand what he wanted but held the comlink in her hand.
— Drayson can't damage Thrawn as he plans, — Iblis seemed to realize this too. — He turned his Star Destroyers and cruisers ventral-side to us in advance. He knew Drayson would act this way! Hutt's breath, he provoked Drayson into this by showing the vulnerable bellies of his Star Destroyers! Given that only cargo bay hatches are open, Thrawn's planning something. Likely, he's brought more squadrons in those cargo holds—they'll lead the first wave. Then, he'll open the main hangar blast doors, and his primary air forces will join the fight. We need to recall the fighters now! While they're still in range of the low-orbit communications station!
— General Rieekan thinks Thrawn's planning a Marg Sabl maneuver, — Leia recalled, trying to reach the commander. But Drayson was in an isolated part of the floor, and his useless adjutant was handling calls.
— Too simple, — Iblis shook his head. — The first strike, maybe. But then, I think he'll counterattack with corvettes and gunships, scatter our fighters, and destroy most of them before Drayson reacts and engages the Dominion fleet. Come on, what's happening?
— They're putting me on hold, — Leia lamented, hitting voicemail again. — Wait. What do you mean, "in range of communications"?
The Corellian, without ceremony, snatched a datapad from a nearby civilian and sketched the tactical hologram's layout.
— First, he cut our communications beyond the sector by tampering with the relay, — Bel Iblis explained. — As his ships began their maneuver, luring our fighters, the high-orbit station went down. We're left with only the low-orbit station for external communication. But planetary shields disrupt scanners, sensors, and communications equipment! For a single shield, it's seventy units, if I recall correctly, but with two, cut that in half. And that's without accounting for the strength of Coruscant's shields—the stronger they are, the worse the interference.
— But Drayson must know this, — Leia frowned.
— If he's never defended a planet with planetary shields, he might not, — Iblis shook his head. — It's not taught in Academies—it's from scientific studies during the Clone Wars. They faced this late in the war when General Grievous attacked Coruscant. The fight for the communications station was as brutal as the rescue of Palpatine from the *Invisible Hand*. I spoke with participants of that battle…
— The farther our ships move from Coruscant, the harder it'll be to control them, — Leia's eyes widened. — The capital's shields are the strongest in the galaxy. Half the power stations are feeding the defenses!
She glanced at the tactical hologram. The distance between the First Fleet's rearmost ships and Coruscant's orbit was…
— Great Force, — she rasped. — Twenty-seven units…
And the fighters were nearing the one-hundred-unit mark… a round number dooming the pilots to failure.
— A little more, and we'll lose them, — Iblis said, his voice trembling. — Leia, we have to do something!
Drayson's comlink continued to offer only the auto-responder's voice…
— Too late, — Iblis said quietly, pointing to the rapidly fading markers of New Republic fighters.
Leia, eyes wide, watched as the dots representing Coruscant's defenders vanished.
— What is this? — she managed to say. — How…?
How had Thrawn destroyed nearly one hundred fifty fighters in a single blow?
While his ships remained turned belly-up to the attackers.
— I don't know, Leia, — Iblis shook his head. — I don't know… But I don't like it!
***
Captain Pellaeon stood before the *Chimaera*'s tactical hologram, silently and admiringly watching as the massive swarm of enemy fighters began to thin.
First in the center—around the *Chimaera*'s projection—then across the entire front of the enemy's advancing aviation, gaps appeared, signaling massive losses among the New Republic's ships and pilots.
The enemy fighters didn't move in a flat plane, but the hologram's scaling adjusted for visual clarity.
As far as he could judge, the battle was progressing satisfactorily. One might even say well.
Hutt's breath, it was unfolding splendidly! In just a minute, up to a third of the enemy's fighters were destroyed, and losses were mounting as New Republic pilots struggled to evade death from an unknown weapon striking from the depths of space with its deadly shrapnel.
— So, we've deprived the enemy of the ability to strike our ships with their small craft, — Thrawn's voice came as he silently stopped beside Pellaeon.
Pellaeon tore his gaze from the tactical screen.
— Thirty-seven percent of enemy aviation destroyed, — he announced, citing the latest data from the flagship Star Destroyer's computer.
— Surprise, panic, kinetic impacts from debris, — Thrawn listed the reasons for such clear success.
— But to destroy over fifteen hundred enemy fighters in one strike… — Pellaeon shook his head. — Few have achieved that. Now forty-five percent losses…
The bridge's already dim lighting was further subdued per battle alert protocols.
— Perhaps, — Thrawn pointed to another large gap in the enemy's formation. — A large object detonated.
— Yes, one of the big ones, — Pellaeon agreed. — Probably thirty meters in diameter… It's an effective tactic, sir.
— Undoubtedly, — Thrawn confirmed, eyes fixed on the tactical hologram. — Effective, but costly.
Gilad winced involuntarily.
Billions had been spent on cloaking devices in recent months.
It began with millions, but as more funds flowed to the Grand Admiral, hybridium extraction on Garos IV intensified. Each month, plasma drills from Nkllon bored into asteroids in Tangrene's orbit.
The project's first step involved asteroids collected in the Dufilvian sector during the attack on the New Republic base at Ord Pardron. These were transported to Tangrene's orbit under Thrawn's command.
Thus began the ceaseless work on the *Asteroid-I* project's cloaked objects.
Hollowed out, stripped of their rock and modest metal deposits, they initially served as a testing ground for the durability of cloaking screens, doubling as prisons for high-value captives like smugglers Mirax Terrik-Horn and her father, Booster Terrik.
Later, to secure Tangrene after the Vjun mission, *Asteroid-I* stones became an invisible minefield along the system's entry vectors.
They proved effective in defending the system when Ubiqtorate Star Destroyers attempted to seize the *Void Wanderer* and its crew.
Those were field tests for system defense, yielding damaged but not destroyed ships.
The tests were deemed successful.
Now, asteroids of all sizes were delivered to Tangrene, equipped with cloaking field generators to serve as unseen sentinels guarding the Grand Admiral's secrets.
The success of *Asteroid-I* (then simply *Asteroid*) led fleet officers to envision this invisible weapon as a key to victory, deployable almost anywhere.
But by then, *Asteroid-II* was already in full development, poised to supplant its predecessor once it fulfilled its objectives in the Coruscant campaign.
Admittedly, no one fully understood why the Grand Admiral sent thirty-six asteroids to Yaga Minor's shipyards. Officially, it was to accelerate the project.
Yaga Minor's engineers did as instructed—laying power cables, hollowing out the asteroids' interiors, and installing foundations for "deflector shield generators." Essentially, work that even clumsy civilian technicians could have handled…
But Thrawn insisted it be done at Yaga Minor.
The results were evident—while the Pentastar Alignment's lazy workers sluggishly handled thirty-six asteroids, Tangrene's shipyards not only prepared but fully equipped hundreds of asteroids with generators, sourced from the Lok system's asteroid belt.
Yes, asteroids were brought from other Dominion systems, but those from the Karthakk sector were ideal. Not only were they structurally robust, but they contained vast metal deposits.
By excavating asteroids with plasma "diggers," Tangrene's workers supported *Asteroid-II* while supplying shipyards with critical minerals, enhancing operational efficiency.
Logistical brilliance—one Karthakk caravan delivered both asteroids for one project and resources for others. The volumes were modest, but better than shuttling starships solely for rocks.
Now, *Asteroid-II* was undergoing combat trials.
Each *Asteroid-II* stone was costlier than its predecessor due to the sensor grids encasing them.
No one understood then—why spend millions on these rocks, why make them so advanced?
Or why bore massive caverns inside them?
Thrawn offered no explanations.
Now, everything fell into place.
The industrial-scale ryll mining on Abafar in the Sprizen sector, currently under Commodore Shohashi's conquest.
The drilling of "wells" and "caves" inside asteroids.
The placement of sensor grids on their surfaces…
It all made sense.
Only now, months later, did Captain Pellaeon and other fleet officers grasp the scope of the Grand Admiral's strategy.
Evidently, Thrawn had planned the Coruscant assault long ago.
He understood that even with a vast number of TIE Interceptors in the regular fleet, superb training, and ample practice, Imperial pilots—even clones of the best aces—would struggle against the fleet defending Coruscant.
The enemy's technological edge, particularly deflector shields, allowed Republic forces to fight aggressively even when outnumbered.
But here… the massive swarm of fighters and bombers the Republic hurled at Thrawn's fleet was shattering, colliding with cloaked asteroids jettisoned from the fleet's cargo holds and bays.
Ranging from fighter-sized to massive giants hauled by Star Destroyers, these cloaked asteroids alternated in size.
After jettisoning the cloaked rocks before executing the Marg Sabl maneuver and sealing hangar blast doors, Star Destroyer crews—specifically tractor beam operators—used modified systems to launch *Asteroid-II* objects into the enemy's fighter swarm.
An old proverb came to Pellaeon's mind: "In space, there's no better anti-fighter defense than bolts hurled at the enemy's small craft with imparted velocity."
Now, cloaked asteroids, accelerated by tractor beams and packed with ryll under pressure, slammed into the New Republic's fighter formations.
Unaware of the threat, fighters and bombers—impervious to laser cannons due to their deflectors—collided with the cloaked asteroids. Sensor grids, acting as contact detonators, triggered the ryll within…
Detonation, shockwaves, and thousands of fragments, instantly accelerated in all directions—these were the bolts annihilating the New Republic's small craft.
— Ten large asteroids from the first wave have detonated, — Pellaeon noted, watching another explosion erase another hundred fighters on the tactical monitor.
Thrawn was playing psychology masterfully.
The New Republic had deployed its fleet in a wide arc, as if encircling Thrawn's compact formation.
This forced their fighters and bombers to adjust course, converging toward the center even from flanking cruisers.
Each large asteroid detonation reaped a bloody harvest by the hundreds.
— Amid the chaos of large asteroid explosions, the enemy doesn't even notice that much of their aviation's destruction comes from smaller asteroids, — Thrawn tapped the display corner showing New Republic fighter losses. Currently, sixty-four percent of the fighters and bombers attacking the Dominion fleet were destroyed by "asteroid shrapnel." — Captain, remind our small ship commanders to stay behind the hulls of our ships until the Star Destroyers and heavy cruisers absorb the asteroid fragments' impacts.
"Marg Sabl, eh?" Pellaeon thought with a mental smirk, understanding what the enemy expected from this ventral-side maneuver.
It was far simpler.
Behind the hulls of Star Destroyers and heavy cruisers, which had sealed their cargo bays after launching the first wave of asteroids, fighters, interceptors, bombers, and cruisers waited to engage.
In neat columns, like a keel-line formation, these starships used the Star Destroyers' ventral sides as shields against their own "asteroid shrapnel."
Engineers had grumbled about the calculations needed to detonate large asteroids without endangering capital ship hulls.
Thus, the Star Destroyers stood, presenting their lower decks to the enemy, as stone "bullets" struck their robust armor, unable to penetrate or damage critical systems.
Even the solar ionization reactor was safe—its factory-standard armor was thicker than a Star Destroyer's or heavy cruiser's hull.
Without the Marg Sabl maneuver, shrapnel would have swept through upper decks, destroying everything in its path.
— They're retreating, Captain, — Thrawn noted, pointing to the surviving twenty-three percent of enemy aviation turning back. — Launch twenty-six large asteroids of the second wave and the remaining small asteroids into sectors two and eleven.
— Yes, sir! — Pellaeon responded.
Only after replying did he realize Thrawn had ordered the last cloaked asteroids from the *Imperial*-, *Victory*-, and *Dreadnought*-class ships to be launched "right" and "left" relative to the enemy's line ships.
The *Chimaera*'s commander glanced at his leader, but Thrawn didn't flinch.
No mistake, then. That meant…
— Order to the *Venators* and *Strikes*, — Thrawn continued. — Launch the third-wave asteroids. Target: the center of the enemy's formation. Wide spread.
Pellaeon thought he must be missing something.
The third-wave asteroids were just plain rocks—no cloaking, no ryll, no sensor grids…
Thrawn had insisted on taking them at the last moment before departing the Dominion.
He specifically chose those with high structural integrity, which shipyard workers had rejected because internal detonations would produce overly large fragments.
And boring them out took too long…
— Sir, — Pellaeon couldn't hold back. — But the enemy will detect them early…
No genius was needed—just knowledge that modern ships' active sensors had a range nearly four times that of a turbolaser, about two hundred units!
Absurd!
The straight-line distance between Thrawn's fleet and the New Republic's First Fleet was just over one hundred!
— Of course they will, Captain, — Thrawn confirmed. — That's the plan. I want the enemy fleet to focus their fire on those asteroids as they approach.
"I thought we'd use them to take out *Golans*," Pellaeon thought irritably. They were perfect kinetic weapons—nearly impervious to turbolaser fire—capable of damaging orbital defenses without risking Dominion ships!
Or was Thrawn planning to use fifth-wave asteroids for that?
Or perhaps showcase the *Red Dragon*'s rapid-fire capabilities, held in the formation's rear?
Arguing with Thrawn was futile.
Pellaeon had to accept there was a plan the Grand Admiral hadn't shared.
Glancing at the watch officer's report, Gilad said:
— Lower decks report the shrapnel caused no significant damage to our ships. At most, a few sensors were disabled or destroyed. Technical repairs will begin immediately.
— Good, — Thrawn said calmly.
He studied the tactical monitor for a moment, then asked:
— Any news from Trogana, Captain?
Gilad coughed into his fist.
He was used to Thrawn's habit of asking unrelated questions, but… during the assault on Coruscant?!
How did Thrawn prioritize?
— Any issues, Captain? — Thrawn glanced away from the monitor.
— None, sir, — Gilad buried his nose in his datapad, frantically searching for the relevant file.
Found it.
— The lieutenant commanding the Trogana garrison reports external surveillance spotted Karrde in a place called the "Bowl." Some cantina popular with smugglers…
— Alone? — Thrawn perked up, suggesting Trogana's events interested him more than the battle for the galactic capital, a prize any government would sacrifice millions to control, with rulers ready to slit throats with dull plasteel.
— Someone matching Lando Calrissian's description arrived recently, — Pellaeon said, frowning.
A sardonic smile played on Thrawn's lips.
That was… unsettling.
— Excellent, — the Grand Admiral said. — Clearly, Calrissian found Karrde and is now persuading him to aid the New Republic in my destruction.
What else would they be doing in these circumstances?
Thrawn paused, then issued:
— Order the garrison commander to attack the "Bowl."
— Eliminate Calrissian and Karrde? — Gilad clarified, knowing Thrawn's orders often carried double meanings.
— Absolutely not, — Thrawn said, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders squared.
Even in the dim battle lighting, his counter-epaulets gleamed perpendicularly across his white tunic.
— The New Republic seeks to sate its intelligence hunger after losing its covert networks, — Thrawn explained. — Karrde could fill those gaps…
Which was why Calrissian and Karrde should be eliminated!
— And for that reason, — Thrawn's red eyes gleamed like the fires of chaos, — we must ensure Karrde agrees to help the New Republic as soon as possible and shares what he knows of my plans. Have we finished launching the asteroids, Captain?
— Yes, sir, — Pellaeon said absently, still grappling with Thrawn's orders, straining to decipher their meaning.
Attack someone who could reveal your plans to the enemy, but don't kill them—ensure they rush to your enemies with that knowledge?!
What was the point?!
— Fleet, turn bows to the enemy, — Thrawn ordered.
The *Chimaera*'s commander relayed the order to the comm officer mechanically…
Gilad never doubted his intellect.
Hutt's breath, he'd sometimes deduced Thrawn's tactical and strategic plans.
But now…
Now he felt like a Gamorrean…
Hopelessly dim.
— Order to *Eternal Wrath*'s commander, — Thrawn continued. — Begin jamming. We're entering battle, and the enemy doesn't need to share suspicions about what destroyed their fighters. But first—let's admire how the New Republic's First Fleet perishes without even engaging us.
Honestly, Gilad tried to piece it together.
He couldn't.
As painful as it was to admit, he'd have to hang up his uniform, don furs, grow tusks, and learn to squeal.
He was starting to feel like a Gamorrean.
He just hoped he wouldn't turn green too soon…
***
Say what you will about the Mon Calamari—they know how to build ships.
If the MC80s were ill-suited for non-Mon Calamari, the MC80b was a different story.
True, Dac's shipwrights, despite addressing operational feedback, still hadn't fixed the biggest flaw—low-backed bridge chairs.
Han, seated in the commander's chair on the *Mon Remonda*'s bridge, watched the events unfolding in Coruscant's orbit with wide eyes.
General Han Solo on the bridge of the MC80b cruiser *Mon Remonda*.
The *Mon Remonda* had been his flagship during the campaign against Warlord Zsinj, performing admirably, even enduring fire from the nineteen-kilometer *Iron Fist*. Not without damage, but still…
Now, after all this time, he was back, fighting another Imperial warlord.
No matter how "justly" Grand Admiral Thrawn acted or cared for his wife, no matter how much Han distrusted the New Republic's actions, the fact remained.
He wasn't just defending a world or a planet—he was fighting for Leia, his children, Chewbacca, all on that planet.
Even for that blasted C-3PO, whose chatter could drive anyone mad!
— Still being jammed? — Han asked, glancing over his left shoulder at the officer at the comms station.
The man, lips pursed, shook his head.
— Keep cycling frequencies, — Han ordered. — Imperial jamming systems always have a loophole.
He didn't mention that you didn't always find it before your ship was blasted to atoms.
The *Mon Remonda*'s crew were top-notch; they didn't need the basics spelled out.
It was them or us.
— Fighters are retreating, — the ship's commander—a typically large-headed Mon Calamari standing behind Han at the tactical board—reported. — Heavy losses…
Solo closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to avoid cursing in Huttese. It wouldn't be fluent, but who cared?
Drayson had screwed up!
Han, Wedge, and a few other admirals at Coruscant's orbit had warned him.
But Drayson insisted—throw in the fighters.
Fine, they did, and now what? Of nearly five thousand fighters, less than a fifth remained!
And how they died was a mystery!
The lack of communications only worsened the situation.
Worse, none of the admirals whose units had come to defend the capital dared take initiative and lead the First Fleet while contact with Unified Command was down.
On one hand, it was understandable—without comms, you couldn't fight effectively. Even now, after Han's efforts to distribute strike frigates as laser-relay messengers between flagships, the admirals couldn't form a cohesive strategy.
On the other hand, the indecision—sparked after *Home One*'s public crash into the Centax-II base—was infuriating.
Han and Wedge, keeping their operational groups close, simmered silently, knowing this couldn't continue.
Because Thrawn was acting!
How, by what means, or what he aimed to achieve was unclear, but the Imperial had already wiped out nearly all squadrons launched from Coruscant and most of the fleet's aviation!
Only what could fit on a third of the available star cruisers remained.
Of one hundred MC80s and MC80bs, only thirty of the former still had air wings!
What was this?! Did Thrawn have a giant Verpine shattergun firing homing rounds to obliterate nearly all aviation so quickly?
If so, why wasn't it showing on scanners?!
— Message from General Antilles, sir, — the comms officer reported.
— What does he want? — Han grumbled.
His Corellian blood boiled at sitting idly, waiting for someone to muster the courage to take command. Han would've charged in himself, but doubted he'd be supported. That would cause chaos in the fleet—and when Thrawn attacked (he couldn't just drift, waiting for the First Fleet to leisurely approach, could he?), panic and disorder would do more harm.
— General Antilles suggests moving our group from the front to the flank to strike from Centax-II's direction.
So, where Thrawn's flanks were covered only by *Strike*-class medium cruisers… Not a bad idea, with the distance nearly within firing range…
The fighters, finally, returned under the protection of line ships, darting into hangars. Many were barely holding together, trailing thick smoke from damaged engines…
— Asteroids! — a young Nautolan at the scanning station squealed like a gutted Gamorrean.
— Kid, — Han looked at him. — You should see a medic. Asteroids near Coruscant's planet—
He stopped, catching the First Fleet's ships opening turbolaser fire.
— What's this now? — Han leaned forward, squinting to identify the target the Republic pilots were firing at. — Are you kidding me?! Evasive maneuvers!
Glancing at his subordinate, Han offered an apologetic smile:
— My bad, I was wrong.
— Yes, sir, — the Nautolan blinked his black eyes. — What do we do?
— Wish I knew, — Han muttered, watching dozens of massive boulders tumbling through space, pocked by turbolaser hits, defying logic by not shattering.
They were crumbling, but slowly, as if made of some ultra-durable material…
— No, Grand Admiral, we're not that naive, — Han shook his head. — Comms!
— Yes, sir!
— Order all ships you can reach—move to the right flank, hit Thrawn from the left! Keep firing on the asteroids!
— If this guy thinks he can just attack us with space rocks, hoping we'll expose ourselves…
Han didn't finish.
A remarkably solid asteroid slammed into the bow of an MC80 that couldn't evade, exploding into a myriad of fragments in a massive white-orange flash, signaling reactor detonation.
The shrapnel tore through nearby ships, causing two strike frigates, dodging another rock, to collide with a cruiser.
— No, — Han whispered as his flagship and much of the fleet veered right to attack Thrawn's left flank. — It can't end like this…
Due to their dense structure, the asteroids had remained undetected by scanners for long. Now, catching up to the First Fleet's ships moving at considerable speed, they left no chance for mere fright.
Despite heavy losses—half a dozen cruisers and dozens of smaller frigates and corvettes—the First Fleet dispersed, letting the asteroid stream pass through its center.
The corridor widened with each moment, increasing the tally of damaged and destroyed ships, but most of the fleet survived.
Yes, it was a pity for the corvette and gunship crews swept away by the rocks, which continued their paths unhindered.
A pity for the frigate crews obliterated by impacts, as if their ships were made of flimsi. Worse, post-impact asteroids changed course, pursuing other ships, amplifying the carnage…
Immensely tragic for the star cruiser crews maimed and torn apart, turned into localized supernovae.
But seventy cruisers and over three hundred smaller ships avoided the impacts, destroying some rocks, whose total number exceeded a hundred.
Many broke through, now threatening the *Golan*-type orbital defense stations, unaware of the approaching danger—but several corvettes were racing to orbit to warn of this unprecedented threat…
Memories of hunting the *Iron Fist* surfaced, how Zsinj, blasting asteroids, destroyed New Republic fighters and struck capital ships with those "projectiles."
It took time to break formation, split into two flanking groups, and restore order…
But the threat had passed, so Thrawn, brace yourself…
— Re-establish the laser comms network, — Han ordered. — I want to know the status of the fleet portion that moved to Thrawn's right flank, and those still here…
The next second, he saw something pierce the bridge of a nearby Corellian corvette, tearing the starship apart from within.
— What the…? — Han leapt from his seat, rushing to the viewport.
He witnessed the slaughter firsthand.
New Republic starships, split to Thrawn's flanks after he ceased showing his ventral side, were exploding.
Unarmed eyes could see bows, hulls, and flanks pierced by something invisible, followed by detonations turning ships into massive, deformed metal husks.
For a moment, it seemed an MC80b, ten units from his own, struck a massive boulder that flickered briefly, but the starship was torn apart, its debris and rock fragments shredding nearby ships.
Helpless as children, the First Fleet's ships tried to fire and maneuver, but an invisible retribution struck…
— Urgent! — Han roared, seeing Wedge's flagship act. — Move to the upper echelon! Ambush!
The *Mon Remonda*, along with dozens of ships, followed the youngest New Republic Defense Force general's flagship, fleeing the perilous zone where they'd evaded a visible threat.
Only to fall into an invisible trap.
Dozens of starships fled; hundreds escaped a grim fate…
When the stream of invisible asteroids ceased, the First Fleet was left with forty-seven battered star cruisers, fifty strike and escort frigates, and forty corvettes…
The bulk of the New Republic's First Fleet had been struck by another of Grand Admiral Thrawn's insidious weapons.
Before Han could catch his breath, several anti-ship missiles slammed into the *Mon Remonda*'s hull, shaking the cruiser to its core, reminding New Republic personnel of a simple truth.
The Grand Admiral was advancing.
There was nowhere to run.
Ahead lay only battle.
And death.