Tonight, despite the absence of the most important figures in the fleet, the Officers' Assembly was lively. Every table was occupied.
Kernatuan Rinaun eagerly awaited the arrival of Mikore Vikt. When he had announced that he'd invited a Jedi to join their company, many officers had been stunned. However, after the commander assured them that this general was an extraordinary individual, curiosity replaced skepticism. A small debate even broke out on the subject.
And finally, the general himself appeared. Darting up the stairs, Vikt headed straight for the commander. Whispers rippled through the hall. Rinaun rubbed his hands together mentally—the general's appearance had clearly caused a sensation.
"Hello again, Commander," the Jedi greeted with a nod.
"I'm glad to welcome you to our company. Gentlemen," Rinaun turned to his companions, "allow me to introduce General Mikore Vikt!"
The officers at the table greeted the Jedi with polite restraint.
Once everyone had settled comfortably into their chairs, Rinaun began the introductions.
"Captain Kasimus Bregos, Captain Orto Detroit, and Captain Smith Cortez—commanders of Acclamator-class ships; Grand Captain Ichiro Fukuoka, responsible for the defense of Lantilles with Republic Fleet forces; Grand Captain Darin Ilizio, liaison with the Fourth Sector fleet; Line Captain Jizéo, commander of the forces guarding the Trade Route; Commander Hazam Tirimaki—head of the Southern Squadron; Vice Admiral Masae Reborn—deputy to Admiral Fortescue, in charge of fleet personnel; Rear Admiral Lewis Surabaya—commander of the Lantilles Fleet; Captain Roy Fokker, also of the Lantilles Fleet; Captain Qing Ozmo—from Intelligence; and Colonel Lyonen Tamauskas—from Supply."
When all the formalities were done, waiters poured wine into crystal glasses.
"A glass of Corellian?" one of the captains asked.
"I won't say no," the Jedi replied with a nod.
After the first round, the conversation drifted toward more practical matters.
"What's the latest on the war?" the Jedi asked. "News takes a long time to reach us—especially since I've been somewhat cut off from civilization lately."
Captain Ozmo, the most informed among them, activated the projector built into the table, displaying a holographic map of the galaxy.
"Several dozen new worlds have joined the Separatists. The Corporate Alliance has taken their side as well, and there are rumors that the Intergalactic Banking Clan sympathizes with them. The conflict is escalating rapidly. The latest reports mention fierce fighting on Atraken. The 416th Corps landed on Teyr, and combat operations are underway on Malavare, Hypori, Ukio, and Delgado. Major skirmishes are occurring in the Second, Eighth, Ninth, Eleventh, Twelfth, Eighteenth, and Twentieth Sectors."
With a few deft keystrokes, the scout zoomed in on the Twelfth Sector.
"The situation in our sector is no better," he continued. "In fact, the territory we currently control,"—he circled a handful of planets with his finger—"is about the maximum we can realistically hold. Most nearby systems belong to the Separatists or sympathize with them. Fortunately, no large enemy fleets have been deployed against us yet—two dozen frigates at most."
"Oh yes," the Jedi nodded. "Castell, Saleucami, Jabiim, Felucia, Boz Pity, Lianna, Tula, Raxus Prime…" Vikt confidently pointed to the worlds on the map. "All of these are under Separatist influence in one way or another."
"You're quite well-informed," the scout remarked in surprise.
"Forewarned is forearmed," Vikt replied evenly.
"What do you think the enemy's next moves will be?" Tirimaki asked.
"Well," Vikt said, thinking for a moment, "the CIS is converting much of its industry to military production. They clearly didn't expect the Republic to field such a large and well-trained army and navy. They were preparing to fight the old junkers from the Justice Department. Right now, they're confused—but they'll recover soon. Within a couple of weeks, millions of new battle droids and hundreds of warships will appear in our sector. They'll send us to capture more of their planets, no doubt, and they'll try to retake the ones we already hold. It's going to be chaos."
Rear Admiral Surabaya joined in.
"Rumor has it that a certain Grievous has been appointed commander of the Separatist army. Do you know anything about that?"
The Jedi took another sip of his wine.
"I can't say for sure, but… rumor has it he's a real bastard—though a brilliant commander in his own right." Vikt smiled faintly. "They say almost his entire body consists of prosthetics. He looks more like a droid than a living being. Supposedly, he was involved in some kind of disaster, but I don't know the details."
Rinaun recalled a few details from their previous meeting.
"May I ask, Captain Ragnos…?"
"He's supervising the loading of personnel and equipment," Vikt explained. "We need to depart for Donovia as soon as possible to organize patrols."
"And your apprentice?"
"Ahsoka? She's right there." The Jedi gestured toward one of the tables on the lower floor. "She's eating cake."
The officers smiled.
"I'm amazed by your achievements, General," said the vice admiral. "Your actions are worthy of every commendation—defeating a large enemy group, capturing a planet, and organizing the delivery of the fuel we so desperately need…"
"Oh yes, sir," the supply colonel agreed. "Supplies from Donovia now almost completely cover our fleet's fuel requirements. Losing that source would be disastrous—the nearest refinery under our control is over a hundred and forty parsecs away, and not even in our sector."
"Then I'll have to work up a sweat," the general chuckled. "They didn't send enough reinforcements."
Everyone turned toward the colonel for clarification.
"There's nothing I can do," he said, spreading his hands. "Seven clone regiments arrived, but four of them were taken from me by order. I barely managed to keep these three. Most of the equipment was requisitioned, too. The general did receive several special units, and we were also able to allocate one corvette—the Consular. But that's the best we can offer. I can't speak for the entire GAR, but our sector received one hundred and twenty Acclamators—roughly twenty Star Corps and sixteen infantry legions with support units. The rest of the clones and their equipment are still delivered almost on passenger liners and freighters — and that's sixteen more Star Corps, separate legions, regiments, battalions and even companies.… There's a catastrophic shortage of transport."
"Fine, forget the equipment—I have enough captured hardware for now. But I'm really short on troops. I even have to put captured droids into service. They're junk, of course, but what can you do?"
"You're using captured equipment?" Captain Detroit asked in surprise.
"I have to," the Jedi shrugged. "I'm even reprogramming CIS droids to fill the gaps in my ranks. They're expendable, sure—but better to lose them than clones."
"I think," Surabaya began, "we can allocate you one Dreadnaught—after all, you're on the front line of the Separatist advance. And… one regiment of the Lantilles Militia."
"That would be wonderful," the Jedi brightened. "But aren't those old ships—or am I mistaken?"
"Yes, they were purchased about thirty years ago, but the vessels have been modernized at our shipyards, owned by LCC—the largest local company. The engineers there are typically phlegmatic, with little concern for aesthetics. That's why the Dreadnaughts look more angular and less elegant. But reliability is what they value. One of their advertising slogans even says: 'We make interstellar flights less exciting.' They'd only worked on civilian ships before, but they fulfilled the order on time and with quality."
"But Captain Fokker can tell you more—he commands the ship we plan to assign to you. Captain?"
Fokker, who had remained silent until now, began to speak slowly.
"Dreadnaught-class heavy cruiser . Six hundred meters in length. Crew of nine thousand—the latest model; the first version had fifteen thousand. Armament includes ten heavy turbolaser cannons, twenty quadruple turbolaser mounts, ten light turbolasers, and twenty-four twin light laser cannons. The cargo hold has been completely redesigned on Lantilles into a hangar for starfighters—it carries two squadrons of Z-95 AF-4s—twenty-four fighters."
"Not bad at all," Vikt concluded approvingly.
"We don't keep anything bad," Surabaya assured him. "The modification is partially based on the Katana Fleet blueprints. I think it had a crew of two thousand two hundred."
The Jedi frowned, thoughtful.
"I could use some more competent officers," Vikt admitted. "The clones are great, of course—but they're all the same. No particularly outstanding specialists, and not much experience either."
The officers nodded in sympathy.
Vice Admiral Reborn turned to Rinaun.
"Didn't a group of cadets take a familiarization flight on your ship today?"
"Yes. They're down there now, celebrating the start of their service."
"I think we could assign a few of them to you, General. As far as I know, they haven't been officially posted yet—otherwise, I'd have seen their names in the reports. Besides, three more groups of graduates are on their way to us. Would you like me to provide their personal files?"
"No need," Vikt said. "I've already made my choice."
The officers exchanged surprised looks.
"And who might that be?"
"The four sitting with my Padawan," the Jedi replied calmly. "If they get along with her, they'll get along with me."
Rinaun, like the others, immediately realized the general wasted no time. Pressing a couple of buttons on his wrist comm, he called out to his apprentice.
"Ahsoka!"
"Yes, Master?" The Togruta turned her head, scanning the crowd until her eyes found him. She waved cheerfully.
"Ahsoka, tell the officers you're sitting with to pack their things and head to the Marat. From now on, they'll serve under my command."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" the Togruta exclaimed with delight.
Rinaun watched with thinly veiled amusement as the young officers' jaws dropped—and not just theirs.
That general is quite a character. I'll have to keep an eye on him—he's a very interesting personality.
***
Having satisfied their curiosity, the officers turned back to their own discussions, exchanging remarks only they could fully understand.
As for me, sitting in a luxurious armchair, I silently savored another glass of wine. It wasn't that I'd been fond of drinking as a student, but being a student and not taking part in the general drinking, and even if the occasion was right—would have seemed strange. And there's a vast difference between how an ordinary person experiences something and how a Jedi does.
Force, this wine was almost alive to me!
Drifting slightly into a meditative state, I lingered on its bouquet—there was nothing like this on Earth. At least, I'd never tasted anything remotely close.
A stray thought whispered through the calm harmony of my mind:
Enjoy it while you can. When will you next be able to sit like this? Only the Force knows.
That's for sure. The only thing I'm certain of—is that I'm certain of nothing.
---
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A fine book this is — full of words, wisdom, and possibly too much coffee.