"This is my fleet! Mine!" Tarkin raged as I issued orders. It was necessary to start the battle immediately upon exiting into the Troiken system. I recalled everything I knew about the Stark War. And yes, for the Republic at that time, it was a real war. Significant forces that influenced the entire Galaxy were drawn into the conflict. Though the clash between Luna and Black Sun also fit that definition… But still, PMC 'Luna' wasn't as huge as 'Black Sun'. Here we had the Stark Syndicate, which had been vigorously active in recent months, plus the Trade Federation, plus the Senate. Yes, it had started earlier, largely due to my actions, as I'd analyzed. I'd destabilized 'Black Sun' too much by eliminating Jarko Itari, while at the same time strengthening PMC 'Luna', which I then dissolved. Sentients who'd been in both organizations partially left and joined Stark. So he'd felt his strength much earlier than I remembered.
What had been happening in the Order while I was away? Dooku had left the High Council on his own, for instance. The point of contention had been the Stark conflict. Like me, the Count advocated for more radical methods, though he had a reputation as a diplomat. Still, the Galidraan Massacre was still a ways off. That one, at least, didn't contain elements I could influence. Yan remained a Jedi Master within the Order, but seeds of distrust had been sown. Whether it was Yan's inherent aristocratic nature—not symbolic like mine, but genuine, defined by the fact that the Dooku family owned an entire planet—or the understanding that trying to negotiate with criminal scum was already a sign of degradation, Yan had left the Council.
"Jaro, you'll go at the head of the bombing squadron, the 'gold' one," I said, ignoring Tarkin. "Celeste will lead the attack at the head of the red squadron." The fighters here were represented by Z-95s, the timeless classic of this universe. Specifically, Tarkin's flotilla had gathered three squadrons of Z-95ERs — a modification of the Z-95 with hyperdrives. Perfectly official, since even a standard Z-95 fighter could have a hyperdrive jury-rigged onto it. There were three squadrons in total — red, which I put Celeste Morne in command of, blue, and green. The bombers were represented by a single squadron. Each fighter squadron had four flights of four ships each. Which meant... sixteen fighters in one squadron and forty-eight Z-95s in total. Actually forty-seven, since before the jump we discovered an irreparable hyperdrive failure on one of the fighters. The bombers consisted of sixteen A-24s, already familiar to me. "Let each of the squadrons — red and gold — provide Celeste and Jaro with one ship each." I looked at the holoprojector. The squadron commanders were also keeping in touch with us. "The red squadron's objective is to cover the gold, the bombing squadron, during their attack on the enemy ships. The green and blue squadrons will focus on covering our ships from enemy small craft, especially their bombers. Next. We're going to destroy the local hyperspace comm station. I'll assign that task to my droids..."
"Have you lost your mind?" Tarkin asked sharply.
"No, not yet," I sighed. "But I'll explain. Stark's Syndicate won't arrive at Troiken with its full strength. He's relying on his navigation virus, so he thinks our fleet will be incomplete and easy to destroy. When he sees we've arrived in full force, he'll try to call for reinforcements. We need to eliminate that possibility, so we'll destroy the hyperspace comm station in the system and activate ECM." I looked at the ECM officer, who perked up when I mentioned his duties. "I need only us to have comms. I think you can manage that."
"Yes, sir," the man nodded. "I'll do everything in my power."
"Good..."
"Why are you commanding my men? Do you even realize this is my fleet, Jedi?! I am General Ranulf Tarkin, not some common senator!"
"Does everyone understand their tasks?" I asked those present. "Red squadron and gold squadron — provide my comrades with the requested ships. Before you leave, Celeste, calculate the formation — here is the order in which the ships should be arranged upon exiting hyperspace." I used my datapad and projected the ship formation in front of everyone. "Gozanti commanders, be careful — as you can see, I've assigned two Gozantis to each Dreadnought for protection. CR70, Marauder, and I3-RF commanders — your ships will be positioned in the upper and lower hemispheres at a great distance from each other. Your task is to attack Stark's fleet from unexpected angles."
"As I understand it, covering against small craft falls entirely on the small craft, since you're sending the patrol ships and corvettes into the attack," noted the green squadron commander. That was correct. The I3-RF patrol vessels, Marauders, and CR70s were equipped with light turbolasers — fast-firing enough to cover the main ships from small craft. "And on the Gozantis."
"Yes," I agreed. "As you may have noticed — we're forming up in an aggressive, attacking formation. We have no desire to drag out the battle, so — as soon as we engage Stark's fleet, we attack immediately. That's why I've concentrated almost all efforts on offense. The gold squadron will try to knock out as many of Stark's Dreadnoughts as possible, or disable their hyperdrives. It's worth noting that they expect our attack, but Stark was relying on his navigation virus and doesn't yet know we've gotten rid of it. Striking with the entire fleet at once will help us secure a quick victory. Does everyone understand their orders, their place in the formation, and their role in the battle?"
"Yes, sir!" came the chorus of affirmations.
"In that case, may the Force be with us all. Prepare your ships. Celeste and Jaro — you prepare too." It might not have seemed very logical to pull two pilots from their ships and replace them with Tapal and Morne... But... Only at first glance. Both Tapal and Morne were gifted, and far better pilots than ordinary sentients. Plus, I had better mutual understanding with them, and their roles were the most critical in the battle. "HK," I contacted the droid over comms. "You'll pilot my ship. Your objective: destroy the hyperspace comm station in the Troiken system."
"Comprehension: it will be done, master. How I hate that word."
"Calculation ready, Celeste?" I asked the woman.
"Yes," she agreed.
"Form up," I said. "And before the jump... I want to do one more thing. Communications officer, give me a secure channel with the sentient Zet Zorenai of the Trade Federation."
A few minutes later, a Neimoidian's face appeared on the projector.
"Light Flyingstar," he said. "I must admit, I'm surprised you're calling me at a time like this. What do you want?"
"Zet," I greeted him. "I heard you were treated extremely unpleasantly after the Tanalorr failure."
"Yes," he nodded. "Exiled to command a fleet in the middle of nowhere," he grimaced. "And you're partly to blame for that. I suppose you flew to Tanalorr, but because of your miscalculations — the witch Ki'zhara died... Just died, and you couldn't take the beacon from her."
"Yes, unpleasant," I agreed with a sigh. "But I'm offering you a chance to restore your tarnished honor."
"I'm listening."
"Your organization currently has a problem with a certain Iaco Stark..."
"A problem?" Zet interrupted me. "We're in deep shit because of that bastard." At least the lower and mid-level Federation personnel weren't aware of Hask's intrigues — the current head of that organization — and genuinely considered Stark an enemy who was destroying their ships and costing them money. And what scared a Neimoidian more than money lost? "That's the kind of problem we have."
"What if I told you that you could deal with Stark once and for all?"
"Isn't Nute Gunray's representative currently negotiating with Stark as part of the Republic's delegation?" Zet asked me.
"The negotiations will fail, at Troiken. Stark never wanted to negotiate in the first place — on the contrary, he wants to dictate his terms. Nute Gunray made a deal with Senator Ranulf Tarkin." I glanced at the senator, who was white-hot with rage at my ignoring him. Zet also looked at Ranulf. "That Ranulf would gather his pocket fleet and attack Stark. But Yako foresaw this and uploaded a navigation virus into Tarkin's system. The ships came out god-knows-where, but not in the Troiken system — it would have been a disaster."
"Cunning bastard," Zet noted.
"But I discovered the virus, and now our fleet is preparing to jump to Troiken. I'm offering you to join us, Zet. I heard you were entrusted with a squadron of 'Generosities' five ships of that class. We could use that kind of help. We'll destroy the pirate and bring peace and stability to the Republic, and you can restore your tarnished honor by taking part in this event," I smiled.
"Thus," Zet continued, "partly offsetting my failure at Tanalorr."
"Yes," I nodded. "I feel a bit bad that I couldn't live up to your expectations." To be honest, Zet was a decent fellow for a Neimoidian. There were good sentients among them, and Zet was one. I was a little ashamed that I'd set him up like that. "In the Tanalorr affair."
"Well... That's acceptable. I'll help you," Zet nodded. "Against Stark, we can operate however we want. He's been evading all our ambushes, though — apparently, there are rats among our ranks. But the information is coming from you. You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Light?"
"My goal is to eliminate the pirate fleet, not the Trade Federation fleet." For now. "I have no motive to lie to you."
"Then we'll arrive," Zet nodded. "We've already started calculating the jump to Troiken. Hmm... It'll take us about four days to fly."
"A little less for us," considering we'd already covered part of the distance.
"I hope you'll leave someone for me," the Neimoidian smiled, and his image vanished.
"Certainly," I smiled and sent all commanders the information that Zet would be joining us. "And now you," I looked at Tarkin. "What do you want from me? Why do you keep shouting that this is your fleet?"
"Because it is my fleet, Jedi," Tarkin said, walking up almost right in front of me. "I maintain it. And you come here and command it instead of me! You want to take all the glory for yourself?"
"I don't give a damn about glory," I replied. "My goal is to resolve the conflict. And you... You're a poor leader — hot-tempered and incompetent. You call yourself 'General'... How many battles have you fought in, 'General' Tarkin? How many operations have you conducted? This is your first, isn't it?"
"What does that have to do with anything..."
"Everything," I interrupted, raising my voice so he'd shut up immediately. The officers on the bridge preferred to do their jobs and not pay attention to how I was putting their 'commander' in his place. "You have no command experience, 'General' Tarkin. I do. I've fought in battle more than once. And I've taken part in creating and planning operations. The Battle of Pakuuni, where Jarko Itari — one of the vigos of the infamous 'Black Sun' organization — was killed, the Battle of the planet Roon in the Mantle of the Sith. And where have you commanded? In a simulator? Not funny... So... Please, shut up. And don't interfere. Better watch carefully, Tarkin — how a fleet commander behaves. Maybe... Someday you won't have to shout that you're a general, and people will call you that for your achievements... Anyone who has to shout about who they are isn't that sentient. A real general doesn't need to shout that he's a general — everyone already knows it."
* * *
"Have you worked with this Light Flyingstar before?" Gallia asked Master Tivokka. "From the looks of it — you have a very high opinion of him."
Their group was en route to the planet Troiken. They were flying on a CR70 ship. Their group consisted of several Jedi — Adi Gallia, Master Tivokka, his Padawan — Plo Koon, as well as Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his recently acquired Padawan — Obi-Wan Kenobi. About Qui-Gon, by the way, there were rumors that weren't the most pleasant to hear. The Jedi was headstrong and too immersed in studying the Living Force. Even though he was the apprentice of Yan Dooku himself, many didn't regard him with the same respect as his renowned master.
Also, there was the fresh history regarding his new Padawan — Obi-Wan Kenobi. After the recent betrayal of his previous student, the extremely talented Xanatos, Qui-Gon supposedly didn't want to take anyone else as his apprentice, but Master Yoda had gently hinted — as many whispered — at young Obi-Wan. The boy was almost eleven years old and talented in the Force, but not enough by Qui-Gon's standards. The Council had practically assigned Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon almost as a direct order. And then, essentially, this pair was sent to a real war. Which, Gallia thought, was excessive. But what worried her more was Light Flyingstar. This Knight came from the Guardians, or more precisely — from the Shadows. They were the assassins of the Order, who had a bad reputation among other Jedi, but they operated mainly in the Outer Rim, where the Order's influence wasn't the strongest and their targets were far more numerous.
"Have I worked with him?" Tivokka growled. "Have you heard of the Royiss-VIII Crisis?" the Wookiee asked the Tholothian.
"The Royiss-VIII Crisis?" Gallia asked. "Of course. Set Harth, who had long betrayed the Order, established himself on that planet and used a mind-transfer ritual for immortality."
"Yes," the Wookiee agreed. "And it was Light who defeated him. There was even a whole holocast on the HoloNet back then. Set Harth by that time was a mighty warrior who had lived for more than one century, and had honed his skill for more than one century. And Light overcame him. A little later — he was the one who dealt with Jarko Itari, one of the vigos of the 'Black Sun' organization. She controlled the planet Drongar, which had an extremely valuable plant called bota."
"I heard you participated in that as well," Qui-Gon noted. His Padawan, holding his breath, listened intently to the senior Jedi.
"Yes. Light was the one who planned the battle with Jarko's forces from start to finish. He completed courses at Anaxis," the Wookiee said, "so entrusting him with command of Tarkin's military force was a logical decision. But you, it seems, doubt him as a Jedi."
"Yes," Gallia agreed. "He's too brash and headstrong."
"He's always been that way," Tivokka nodded. "But Master Yoda wanted him to be that way. Because Light, in terms of ability and strength, is fully capable of taking a seat on the High Council. The Grand Master justifiably believes that Light can help our Order with his unconventional views on many things. To give him confidence, he was even entrusted to a teacher who was... well, let's say, a specific kind of Jedi. And he succeeded. Although even I think Light bends the stick a little too far. But he manages. His Padawan, Jaro — is a perfect example. You know him, don't you, Obi-Wan?" Tivokka asked.
Qui-Gon's Padawan flinched when the Wookiee addressed him. He understood Tivokka's words, since all Jedi learned the Wookiee language.
"Yes..." he looked at Qui-Gon. The master gave Obi-Wan a short nod. "Jaro used to be very arrogant. He would even challenge Knights! And he defeated some of them."
"Well, now he's calm and cautious," Tivokka noted. "That training did him good."
"That's all well and good," Senator Valorum said. "And I hope he'll find common ground with Tarkin and be able to lead the fleet. Even though I don't want conflict, we'll have to engage in it."
"The most important thing is Master Tholme's mission and his young Padawan," Gallia noted. "When it comes to infiltration, Master Tholme is the best in the Order. I feel that the cornerstone here is Thyferra, not Troiken and Iaco Stark."
"Yes," Master Tivokka agreed with the Tholothian.
They arrived at Troiken almost a week later. Exiting hyperspace, they discovered the pirate fleet hanging in the planet's orbit. It consisted of three Dreadnought-class ships — the core of their fleet... One of them was definitely the flagship. The squadron also mainly included Gozantis and many small craft flying around the larger ships.
"I have a bad feeling," Obi-Wan said.
He should have insisted that Qui-Gon not bring him on the mission. Still, his first mission and immediately a war. A message arrived at their pilot from one of the Dreadnoughts. They sent them a vector for landing approach. And they followed... Into a pre-set trap. Finis Valorum, like everyone else, remained calm. Only Obi-Wan Kenobi nervously scanned, it seemed, every detail around them. Nute Gunray, the Trade Federation's appointee, was also flying with them. He had spent the entire flight in separate quarters. The Neimoidian looked... arrogant, moving around in his chair. Droids accompanied him. The Republic's negotiators had arrived on time, but Stark and his team... were late, clearly employing one of the known diplomatic tactics.
A deliberate delay, which could cause an inexperienced diplomat to lose their composure. Finally, the doors opened, and Iaco Stark entered the hall. A red-haired man smiled arrogantly. He was dressed in gray trousers and a yellow cloak.
"Ah! Finally, everyone's here! This is going to be so interesting." He waved his hand and introduced his companions. "This is my board of directors. Ugly appearances, but they're extremely businesslike, I assure you," Stark smiled. "Trodos, Burdaa, Tam Gozon, and Lom Portom. I don't remember the girls' names, but they're here to look pretty, aren't they? Well then, shall we begin? Let's discuss... You'll complain, I'll make demands... We'll hit a dead end, and then I'll dictate exactly how things should be done..."
"I suppose," Tivokka began, "perhaps we should skip the unnecessary preliminaries and get straight to business, as you suggest, Stark."
"Good to see we're on the same page," he grinned. All of Stark's thugs who had surrounded them now aimed blasters at them. Even the Twi'leks, who were clearly dancers. So he had figured it out? Gallia looked at Tivokka. He remained calm.
"Master?" came Obi-Wan's question. The boy was clearly frightened by the sight of weapons. His hand reached for the saving hilt of his lightsaber. But Qui-Gon put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"Easy," Qui-Gon said and looked at Tivokka.
"And what does this mean, Stark?" Finis Valorum asked him.
"You know, I'm not an idiot," Stark said, aiming a blaster at the Wookiee. "I'm perfectly well-informed about your ambush fleet that you placed under Tarkin's command. Now you're in my trap, not me in yours."
"The Republic has neither an army nor a fleet!" Valorum objected. "If Tarkin is doing anything, it's his personal initiative, which has nothing to do with us! We came to negotiate!"
"It doesn't matter anymore whether it has anything to do with him or not," Stark stood up from the table. "A signal was sent from someone," he looked at Nute Gunray, who was sitting in his chair. The Neimoidian frowned. "And the fleet will be here soon... Just not all of it... I suspected you from the very beginning, so I loaded a navigation virus onto the ships. Some of them might jump straight into a star, some into a black hole... And some might fly straight into the planet... A small part of the fleet will arrive here, which we'll destroy and... dictate a new treaty..."
Just then, the datapad on his right hand beeped. Someone was clearly calling him, and Stark accepted the call, projecting a hologram of one of the pirates in front of him.
"Well, has the Republic's fleet arrived?" he asked. "Destroy them all..."
"Captain!" the pirate said loudly. "Something's not right here! Not like you described! We're facing... We're facing the entire... The entire fleet formation! They have small craft, Dreadnoughts, Gozantis! And they're lined up in an attack formation, opening fire."
"What?" Stark asked in surprise. "How? We infected all the computers! They should have come out... not here!"
Adi Gallia threw a glance at Tivokka... It seemed the High Council master's premonitions hadn't deceived him. He had sent Light Flyingstar to Tarkin's ships. And he had discovered the virus. As a result — right now, the entire fleet that Ranulf Tarkin had assembled was pounding Stark's pirate fleet.
"Call for reinforcements!" Yako gave the order. "Everyone here, from all our systems!"
"We can't! They're jamming the signal... And... It looks like they destroyed the hyperspace comm station as soon as they entered the system! The system... Is cut... Cu..."
"Grasso!" The pirate's hologram vanished, replaced by a man in white clothing. He was of the Sephi race.
"Iaco Stark," said Light Flyingstar, who had appeared as a hologram on his communicator. "Good day to you. You have been weighed, measured, and found wanting. Now order your men to lay down their weapons... Or I'll turn your entire little fleet into space dust."
"Fucking Jedi! Do you have any idea what plan you've ruined?!"
"No, and it doesn't matter," the Shadow Corps representative waved dismissively. "Do you refuse my offer?"
"Go to a Hutt! I have hostages," he looked at the negotiation group.
"Hostages? Do you seriously think a gifted person is so easy to take hostage?"
At that moment, Tivokka gave the signal. Instantly, all the Jedi grabbed their lightsabers.
"Have fun," he snorted, "and Master Tivokka, be careful with Gunray's droids."
Light's hologram vanished.
"I don't want to be a hostage!" Gunray said fearfully.
"Then help with the droids!" Qui-Gon shouted. The fight began very quickly. The pirates opened fire on the Republic delegation — or rather, on the Jedi. All the Jedi present activated their lightsabers and began defending themselves. "Let them help us!"
"What does it mean to be careful with the droids?" the Wookiee asked in the meantime... "Mmm... Got it!"
"Droids!" Nute Gunray commanded. "Kill them all!"
The guard droids opened fire. And they opened fire on everything they saw, including attacking Master Tivokka, who managed to deflect the blaster fire at the very last moment. Meanwhile, Stark's gang made an escape from the room, shooting at the Jedi as they retreated.
"Everyone all right?" Gallia asked, surveying the room.
"Yes," Tivokka growled. "Just nicked my wrist."
The Jedi deactivated their lightsabers.
"Light did his job perfectly," Qui-Gon noted. "Tarkin's fleet is clearly stronger than Iaco Stark's fleet. As a senator, he managed to gather the best ships. And the fact that this Jedi had already planned such operations means our fleet in space will win."
"But this isn't the end yet," Plo Koon spoke up. "The mission on Thyferra... And Iaco Stark and his officers haven't been captured yet."
"I'm confident in our victory, my young Padawan," Tivokka said. "We've accounted for everything we could."