Both the captured Lucrehulks and the Federation Lucrehulks were destroyed in an instant, throwing the eight smaller ships that remained of the enemy fleet into disarray.
...
The Federation's Battlecruiser's struggled to recover from the shock of losing both their flagships, as the better prepared Serenno fleet pounced on them. Not expecting to run into a battle this close to the borders of Corporate Space, the collection of Munificent Frigates and long, narrow Providence Class Destroyers, were mauled badly by the enemy.
There were ten ships from the Serenno House Fleet, and they were able to disable and destroy two of the enemy destroyers and one of the Frigates, as Tan'ya watched the battle unfold from the bridge of the little smuggler's freighter.
Suddenly Asajj's mind reached across the void between the ships, sending feelings of warning to Tan'ya. The exact contents of the warning weren't clear, but the idea was clear. Time to retreat. No doubt the surviving Federation ships had called for reinforcements, and now a much larger force was on its way.
The last of the captured Lucrehulks began to maneuver towards what remained of the enemy fleet, but Tan'ya doubted that same attack would work again after it was witnessed once. To make the kamikaze attack possible, the ships had to be piloted by a set of particularly stupid droids who lacked even the most basic programming for self preservation.
They would be able to do little more than fly directly at an enemy who maneuvered around them easily. While what was left of the Federation fleet scattered like minnows before the lumbering forms of the Lucrehulks, the rest of the House Fleet spooled up their own hyperdrives, and prepared to jump again.
Then in short order, they were away once more, disappearing back up the Hydian, leaving ruin in their wake. Tan'ya's mind was already racing ahead, to the final phase of the plan, the ambush her father had prepared ahead, at Oshetti IV. With any luck there would be one more serious blow against the Federation today.
...
Grib Siv had only just started his morning exercises when one of his aides approached with a nervous look on his face.
"Just give me the bad news." Grib grunted, but didn't stop his jogging. Keeping up a good speed under 1.5 gravity was hard, he had a thick lather of white froth pouring from his lips and down over his body as a result of the brutal workout. He raised his hand, and someone came over to spray a fine mist over him, helping him to keep cool and helping wash away some of the mess. "Go on, spit it out."
"There's been an attack at Bonadon."
Bonadon. Bonadon. Grib didn't remember anything about Bonadon. Wasn't it just a barren desert world? "What was damaged?"
"Sir, our entire three month strategic reserve of hypermatter is gone."
It took a moment for that to process, and when it did Grib almost tripped and fell. "Gravity back to normal!" He barked, slowing his jogging as he considered the implication of that. "What are hypermatter prices right now?"
"Currently, they're quadruple what they were twenty four hours ago." One of his aids replied.
Grib snatched up a bottle of water, and took a long swig. Unless the Zygerrian fleet was able to take Ranroon, the Alliance would have the Corporate Sector choked off from the rest of the Galaxy, and Hyper Matter prices inside the Corporate Sector were going to be even higher than those outside of it.
The problem with carrying goods along the Hydian was that it was too long and too exposed. With so many Alliance ports along the route, any ships carrying goods to the Corporate Sector would be taking a massive risk of it being stolen or destroyed. The Serenno House Fleet didn't need to be very large to stop merchant traffic, and the fleet at Botajef was large enough to be a genuine threat in its own right.
Right now, the plan to take the Hydian wasn't quite as clear yet. There was no quick and easy victory there, the Federation would have to peel back each port one by one to take control over the hyperlane.
Grib's thinking was that by taking Ranroon, and knocking the Tion Cluster out of the war sooner, they would be able to pressure Botajef and Serenno on two fronts, a more attractive prospect than having to fight his way through Serreno, Celanon, and Toprawa just to get to Botajef, which was where the real threat was coming from. Victory over the Alliance meant seizing or disabling the shipyards at Raxus Prime and Botajef. Anything else would be a stalemate that demonstrated Federation weakness, rather than strength.
"Have we heard back from Admiral Septu yet?" He demanded. "What's his progress on retaking Ranroon?"
"He hasn't contacted us since you gave the order."
"Call him." Grib snapped. "Call him, right now. We're short on time and he needs to get moving."
The aid got out his holocom and quickly dialed. It wasn't long before Grib was looking down at the face of Septu, whose small form looked up from Grib's palm. Even from several star systems away, Grib could have sworn he could taste the admiral's fear stink from here.
"Admiral, you were ordered to occupy the Ranroon sector six hours ago. Explain yourself."
"Viceroy, the fleet isn't ready for combat." The words practically spilled out of Septu as rushed to defend himself. "We don't have nearly the amount of fighter fuel or tibanna gas as previous reports led me to believe."
"What?!" Grib snarled. "Why?!"
"Many of the captains have been skimming the reserves, and selling them for credits-"
"What?!" Grib shouted, in disbelief. "What is the state of your fleet's reserves?"
Septu swallowed, trying to keep calm. "Sir, this practice was in place long before I came, it's almost universal across the entire patrol fleet! Some officers just consider it extra income when they're jockeying for assignments. Why, I-"
"Answer the damn questions!" Grib snarled. "Do you have enough fuel to secure Ranroon or not?"
"...Viceroy, my fleet has mostly full hypermatter hoppers. We could make the jump to Ranroon, and maybe even fight a battle there and win it, but after that, we would be stuck waiting for resupply. The real problem is that I don't have enough fuel rods to sustain our full force of fighter droids. We would effectively be fighting at half strength."
Grib felt like his glands were almost popping, like the heat of his anger was boiling the water under his skin. He was out of fuel? How could he be out of fuel, when the war had only been declared a day ago?!
Through grit teeth, he growled out, "It's your job to maintain your fleet, Admiral."
"Viceroy, please understand. The Zyggerian sector fleet I was put in command of ten years ago was nothing like it is now. I commanded ten Lucrehulks and forty smaller ships. There was no expectation of combat. Even the new ships you've put under my command were drawn from the rest of the Corporate Sector, and faced with the same circumstances. None of us thought we'd actually have to go to war!"
"How much have you made from skimming or fuel?" Grib Siv demanded. "Got your nice little retirement gem back on the Purse Worlds? A hundred green acres and a few bono beasts? You know Captain, I bet your wife is real happy with all the gifts you've been able to afford for her lately."
Septu grimaced, swallowing. "Admiral." He corrected. "I'm not a captain, I'm an admiral."
"Not any more, you're not!" Grib screamed, his eyes popping with outrage. "You're fired! You hear me?! Fired! Get out! Get out right now! Your pension? Gone! Your kids? blacklisted. They'll never work in the Corporate Sector again, you hear me? Your family is going to be beggars for the next hundred generations! If you're still in that office and uniform by the time the security droids arrive to escort you out, they'll tear that uniform right off you!"
...
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