Chapter 308
We returned to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant after a grueling three-hour medical check that Yoda had insisted upon. The ancient Grand Master had taken one look at my scarred face and melted armor remnants and declared, "Thorough examination, you will undergo. No arguments." Even I knew better than to argue with Yoda when he used that tone.
Later, we were invited to a formal banquet celebrating the newly signed treaty between the Republic and the Hutt clans. The event was scheduled for the evening, giving us a precious one-hour break to rest and prepare.
"You know, I'll probably eat in my room," Zule said quietly as we walked down the polished corridors of the Temple.
"How fortunate," I replied with a tired smile. "I was about to suggest the same thing. I'll also familiarize myself with the new assignment."
"Tell me later?" the Falleen girl froze in the doorway of my quarters, her red-orange skin still carrying a faint flush from our earlier intimacy aboard the *Finalizer*.
"Of course," I assured her.
Luckily, our things had already been delivered to our rooms. It wasn't much — just a small backpack each — brought by a young man from the Maintenance building we had passed on our way to the Halls of Healing.
After quickly grabbing a bite to eat and finally feeling somewhat refreshed, I inserted the holodisk into the reader and began to study the new orders.
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Late that night, I lay on my bed in the dimly lit quarters, staring at the ceiling, the holodisk's contents still spinning in my mind.
On one hand, I should have been happy. I had been promoted. Five dice — two blue, two red, and one yellow — now lined up on my insignia, placing my rank on equal footing with the Moffs and the now-defunct Grand Admirals of the old Republic Navy.
One of the key steps in my long-term plan had been conquered: I had risen high enough to be truly visible. But with visibility came new problems. I had been appointed commander of one of the newly formed System Armies — specifically Mern-13.
*Thirteen and twelve…* I thought wryly. *Lucky numbers, apparently.*
From the outside, the plan looked impressive. A System Army would consist of at least four corps and no fewer than seventy warships. That meant the infantry under my direct command alone would number between one hundred and sixty thousand and two hundred thousand clones and auxiliaries. The total number of organics could reach half a million, depending on the exact composition of the naval component. Such numbers were breathtaking.
The mission of these armies was to conduct independent planetary operations — to capture or hold entire planets or other large strategic objects like orbital rings. There were currently around three hundred such rings scattered throughout the galaxy. That meant a System Army would often operate alone, without immediate support from other forces.
On the other hand, the reality was far less glamorous. Three of the four corps would be formed from auxiliary forces. I doubted they were truly ready for heavy combat. The timeframe was also unrealistic — only four months were allotted for full formation and training. Given what I knew was coming (Geonosis again, and apparently Ryloth), we would likely be pulled into action much sooner. Which meant we would have to "sweat it out" with whatever we could scrape together.
We were supposed to receive twenty-four Venators, but I doubted I would get even half that number. More likely, they would hand us whatever old junk was still spaceworthy.
The only genuinely positive news was the extensive authority I now had over procurement of military equipment for ground units. Since standard clone equipment wasn't suitable for every species or tactical need, and supplies were limited, I could procure — within reasonable price limits — whatever weapons and gear I deemed necessary. Command clearly expected each System Army commander to experiment and adopt the most effective solutions.
And since military contracts were an incredibly tempting business, manufacturers and designers who had heard about this new freedom would be salivating at the future profits. That meant I might actually be able to realize some of my plans.
*And if the government doesn't have enough money… well, I'll have to unzip my own wallet.* Pulling out credits — or even kyber crystals — could help. Jabba should soon start sending credits my way from the pass system we had negotiated. Still, I needed a proper fleet. Mostly standard-powered ships; any more kyber-powered vessels and the Jedi would start asking dangerous questions.
Although… Malachor I was an abandoned Sith temple capable of destroying entire planets. That meant tons — possibly multiple tons — of various kyber crystals were still there. And the Nox holocron had shown me the way the first time. There was also another forgotten Sith holocron that unlocked the temple itself. The problem was moving that amount of crystals. Even if I could, what shipyards could handle it? Sienar and Lantilles maxed out at around 2,000 meters, and those yards were few and already overloaded.
No… I needed a true dreadnought. The *Malevolence* would soon become active. That meant I would need to hunt it down if I wanted to shorten the war.
Man… it was a lot of thoughts.
I rubbed my scarred face, feeling the rough texture under my fingers. The burns from the Vong lightning still pulled slightly when I frowned. Seven months in this galaxy, and I had already died once. Lost an arm. Gained scars that would never fully fade. Gained lovers and Padawans who had become my heart. Changed the timeline in ways I could barely track.
And now I was being handed an entire System Army.
The weight of it settled heavily on my chest.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
"Master?" Zule's voice, quiet and warm.
"Come in."
She slipped inside, still wearing the simple tunic she had changed into after the banquet. Her red-orange skin glowed softly in the low light. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, studying me.
"You look like you're carrying the whole galaxy again," she said gently, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed.
I gave her a tired smile and reached out with my remaining hand. She took it, lacing her fingers with mine.
"Just thinking about the new assignment," I admitted. "A System Army. Four corps. Seventy-plus warships. Half a million organics under my command… eventually. It's… a lot."
Zule squeezed my hand. "You'll do well. You always do. Even when you try to die on dusty plateaus and make me restart your heart."
I chuckled despite myself. "Fair point."
She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my scarred cheek, then another to my lips. "Whatever comes next — Geonosis, Ryloth, hunting that monstrosity *Malevolence* — we face it together. Ahsoka, the others, me… we're with you."
I pulled her closer, resting my forehead against hers.
"Together," I agreed quietly.
Outside the Temple, Coruscant's endless traffic hummed on. Inside, for a few stolen moments, the weight of command and the scars of survival felt just a little lighter in Zule's arms.
Tomorrow would bring new orders, new responsibilities, and the slow march toward whatever endgame Palpatine and the Force had in store.
But tonight, I allowed myself to simply breathe.