Chapter 34.
The headquarters of the Twelfth Sectoral Army was located on the outskirts of one of the warehouse districts. In fact, one of the warehouses had been converted into a command post. The choice of such an unusual location was quite logical: the warehouse was spacious enough to accommodate all the necessary equipment, there was a large landing pad nearby, and a control tower that had been refitted into a long-distance communications center. Clones patrolled the perimeter, and anti-aircraft guns were positioned around it.
Although there had been constant turmoil here since the beginning of the war, today was particularly noisy. Staff officers rushed back and forth as if possessed, and the air itself seemed heavy with anxiety. Numerous speeders landed in front of headquarters, delivering commanders of every rank to an emergency meeting. The subject of the meeting was unknown to anyone. Officers gathered in small groups, quietly speculating on what might have happened, but none could arrive at anything concrete.
When most of the officers had arrived, it was announced that the meeting would take place in the main tactical room and would begin in a few minutes—just as soon as Moff Terbon finished his communication with the Jedi Council. The announcement immediately reignited the rumors that had just begun to die down.
***
The trip—though it was more of a short flight—took about ten minutes. In the end, the speeder dropped us off at a large landing pad in front of a building… a warehouse? As it turned out, that was the headquarters.
Once we found our way inside, we headed straight for the meeting room. It was a spacious chamber with a large holographic projector in the center and rows of tables with benches arranged around it. Now, many familiar and unfamiliar officers sat at those tables, none below the rank of ship captain; several were present only as shimmering holograms. Noticing Commander Rinaun at one of the tables, I made my way toward him.
We exchanged a brief nod of greeting.
"General, are you aware of what happened?" he asked.
"No idea, Commander. But… something tells me the news waiting for us isn't going to be good."
Our barely begun conversation was cut short by a rising murmur of voices—an entourage of senior officers, led by Terbon, entered the hall.
***
Ilius Terbonn had not been appointed Moff and commander of the sector army for nothing. At sixty, he was still an energetic man, though one who had clearly "seen it all." Those who knew him said that, to an outsider, he might appear simple-minded because of his taciturnity and unsociability, but his bold intellect and cold calculation made him one of the most effective officers in the Justice Department. He had dozens of successful operations against pirates, slavers, and smugglers to his name.
As he entered the hall, his sharp gaze swept across the assembled officers. One way or another, everyone who mattered was present: the commanders of the Northern, Southern, Southwestern, Southeastern, Eastern, Western, Northwestern, Central, and Reserve Squadrons, along with chiefs of staff and ship captains.
Yesterday's lieutenants and captains—today, many of these people had risen to heights once thought unattainable, taking command of warships or even entire squadrons. Much like Terbonn himself, in fact. Still, the Moff had serious doubts about whether their level of training matched their new responsibilities. This war was unlike any other he had seen. What had begun as a clash between a patchwork of police and customs fleets, merchants, and industrialists was rapidly turning into something far greater. In truth, it already had: nearly twenty thousand star systems were now embroiled in the conflict, and there was no reason to believe it would slow down. If anything, this looked like the beginning of something much larger.
And then there was this newly created army and navy… Oh, many had rejoiced at the news—it had finally happened: after a millennium of stagnation, the Republic was beginning to regain its former strength, able once more to respond decisively to acts of aggression that had previously been settled only through diplomacy.
Terbonn could accept that the army had been created in secret, but the fact that it consisted of clones—and, moreover, had been commissioned at the behest of the Jedi—still baffled him. The Jedi, of all people! "Guardians of peace in the Galaxy," as one of the lines of their code so proudly proclaimed. Terbonn had long known that the Jedi could be eccentric, but this… this was something else entirely.
Yet, over the past two weeks, the Moff had witnessed firsthand just how effective the clones were: well-trained, disciplined, and adaptable soldiers, pilots, and technicians. They deserved every bit of praise they received. The combat equipment, too, was of decent quality. But the fact that the Jedi had been placed in command of them… No. There were certainly bright minds among the Jedi, capable leaders even—but they lacked the instinct of true soldiers.
And here they were, standing before him now—several Jedi who operated within his sector.
Terbon shook his head slightly and stepped up to the holographic projector. The murmur of voices fell silent. A detailed map of the sector appeared behind him.
"Gentlemen! Plans have changed. I must inform you that the situation has shifted dramatically. The Separatists have recovered faster than we anticipated, and now CIS forces are on the offensive across the entire galaxy. Our sector is no exception."
The Moff waved his hand, and the map shifted to display the Kashyyyk system.
"The first point I must address is that Trandosha has committed an act of aggression, sending troops to Kashyyyk and its colonies. It is possible that Trandosha supports the CIS. Although no combat droids have yet been sighted there, it is likely that Separatist forces are stationed—or will soon be stationed—on Trandosha itself. According to our intelligence, large CIS fleets are moving toward this system. The senator from Kashyyyk has convened an emergency Senate session, during which he requested the Republic's assistance. In addition, he has appealed directly to the Jedi Council. We have been ordered to provide this assistance."
The officers began murmuring among themselves, quietly debating the implications.
"But that's not all," Terbon continued.
Everyone's attention returned to him as the map of Kashyyyk shifted again, this time displaying another system.
"There has been a coup on the planet Togoria. The brother of the local ruler, Margrave Mmurr Mryauu—Mryaur Mryauu—organized a successful assassination attempt and declared himself the new ruler of the planet. The former Margrave had maintained a policy of neutrality, but the new king has set a course for closer ties with the CIS. Our analysts believe bribery played a role in this, though a significant portion of the male population—who hold radical and militant views—have enthusiastically supported the Margrave's decision to join the war."
The image shifted back to the sector map, now covered in multicolored arrows.
"In addition," Terbonn went on, "the Separatists have attacked several other systems—Sarka, Maltoria, and Diado."
He gestured again, and the map zoomed out.
"The situation is deteriorating. The Small Lantillian Trade Route is under direct threat and could be attacked both from Togoria in the Uyter region and from the Kashyyyk sector. In doing so, they aim to cut us off from Hutt Space as well as from the Thirteenth Sector. Communication routes with the Fourth Sectoral Army are also endangered. Therefore, we must respond immediately to these emerging threats."
The projector displayed a new image—a detailed plan of action.
"Commander Tirimaki," Terbonn said, pointing to a cluster of systems, "you and your squadron are to proceed immediately to the Kashyyyk area. You will be supported by Jedi Generals Kar Prong and Sk'aar'aprov with their forces." He traced several routes across the map. "The Jedi Council has already approved this decision. You will also receive support from Commander Erita's Southwest Squadron."
"What about ground operations?" Tirimaki asked.
"That will be handled by the Jedi," Terbonn replied. "Your responsibility is space combat."
"Two squadrons—the Northern Squadron under Commander Silent and the Eastern Squadron under Commander Velasquez—will move to Sarka and Maltoria. Jedi General Brom Truc will assist at Diado."
The commanders nodded in acknowledgment. The holographic image of a Jedi inclined his head solemnly.
"I will depart immediately to aid Master Squater," the Jedi said.
"Commander Ditmar's Southeast Squadron," Terbonn continued, "in cooperation with Commander Rinaun's Southwest Squadron, is to blockade Togoria and prevent the Separatists from landing troops there. General Vikt—" the Moff paused, turning his gaze to me—"can you assist Commander Rinaun's squadron?"
"I only have one ship," I replied. "I came here for reinforcements. The others are tied up protecting the factory, but…" I rubbed my palms together thoughtfully. "If you can spare a few squadrons of starfighters, I'll gladly help."
"Excellent. Every ship counts. How many squadrons can you carry?"
Before I could answer, Captain Ntor Ragnos stepped forward.
"We haven't finished loading," he said, "so most of our holds are still empty. We also unloaded part of our equipment before takeoff. We can carry up to ten squadrons on board."
Terbonn turned to one of his staff officers. "Allocate ten reserve squadrons!"
Then, addressing the entire room, he said firmly, "The Jedi Council is deeply concerned about recent developments. Our sector will be allocated additional ships, troops, and equipment—but until they arrive, we'll have to rely on our own strength. We must act swiftly and decisively."
Concluding his short but impactful speech, the Moff saluted and left the conference room. The officers rose in unison.
There was much work ahead.