Rage Against The Dark Ch 10 (Patreon)

Good looks at clock dammit! I missed the morning by a few minutes! At least on my neck of the woods.

This chapter was fun to write, took a few liberties with some stuff, but surprisingly? The closest thing to 'not canon' that I use in the chapter is actually the use of 'Tuesday' XD.

The Clone Wars expanded universe is full of some whacky stuff, I'll tell you hwat.

Anyways! Those of y'all in the US, which statistically is most of y'all, hope you had a good Thanksgiving. Those of y'all who ain't, hope you had a good weekend.

As to the chapter itself, it honestly kinda got away from me a bit. It's over 4500 words, and I would still love for it to have gone longer.

As usual, poll going up Soon(TM). We will see how things shake out. For now, here is chapter, I hope you enjoy it.

=][=

I stared into the scintillating pattern of winkling stars as the ship maintained its seemingly lazy orbit over Bith, a bright blue jewel of a world suspended in a beam of sunlight.

No relation to the Bith species, who in fact hailed from Clak’dor VII in the Outer Rim, whereas Bith was just coreward of the Colonies, rimward and trailing the Abregado system.

As it turned out, searching for the Space-Bismarck was boring.

Well…not searching.

The Resolute and a hodgepodge battlegroup of eight more warships were made to babysit cargo convoys because Senators couldn’t be without their luxury items imported from the Outer Ring.

Sure we were ‘securing a staging ground,’ but having totally not eavesdropped on a briefing I didn’t have the clearance to, I had not learned that we currently had exactly one fleet consisting of a convoy of three Venators hopping around trying to find ‘the new Separatist weapon plaguing the Republic’s shipping lanes.’

I resettled my brown Jedi robes around my shoulders with a sigh. The coarse bantha wool itchy where it touched my skin.

If we were trying to prosecute an actual war, then this would be bullshit. As protecting shipping was important on the whole but dedicating so much of the Republic’s strength to non-essential shipping merely assured that no matter what, the Space-Bismarck would have free reign to destroy our ships piecemeal.

Even knowing this whole farce was bullshit, I was still incensed at the sheer waste of fucking time.

I wouldn’t mind playing babysitter if I were babysitting something actually important. Except I knew for a fact I wasn’t. The shipping manifests were all clothing, fabrics, and perishable luxury goods.

And I’d made my way over to the actual ships passing through and snuck off to do a personal inspection. Yeah I opened random containers, but I did a thorough enough random sampling that either I got seriously unlucky to not find a single one of the actually important things we were guarding hidden in shipping manifests as ‘stupid shit the wealthy want in wartime’ to keep them hidden from Separatist moles.

Or my time was being wasted guarding luxury items for the ultra-rich at Coruscant.

And taking into consideration that the only reason the Resolute was stuck guarding these ships was to keep Anakin as far away as possible from the Space-Bismarck, because the moment he got involved it would explode…yeah, that checked out.

But goddammit Palps, can’t you at least make him guard something useful?

Actually no, it’d be bad if he did, because then Anakin wouldn’t get antsy and run off to do something actually useful and throw a wrench into Palpatine’s plans.

“Sir.” One of the clones said, stepping up next to me in the bridge. “Here is the copy of our training regimen, and I did as you asked and made a copy of the standard procedures we follow in battle.”

“Thanks.” I glanced at the Clone out of the corner of my eye and read the name tag floating above him. “Lieutenant Popper. Much appreciated.”

Popper hid his surprise perfectly, not a flicker passed his face at the fact that I got his name right despite the fact that he was wearing Grabber’s nametag. “Yes, sir.”

He turned around and began to walk away but stopped as I called out. “Also, Popper?”

“Sir?” He asked.

“This is the third time that one of the men has had the wrong name tag on their uniform. Do please investigate why the uniforms are getting mixed up, it’d be bad if this escalated beyond harmless mixups.”

Popper cleared his throat nervously. “Erm, yes sir. I’ll see to it immediately.”

“Thank you.” I said and turned back to the transparasteel viewport as I began to read.

That should hopefully put a stop to the clones trying to catch me getting one of their names wrong. Yeah it was a funny game, but I’d rather they tried harder than just swapping out the name tags on their clothes.

I scowled as I read battlefield procedures and muttered. “Who the fuck thought this doctrine for retreat was a good idea? I swear to fuck…”

I made notes on the procedures about the extensive re-training I’d have to do with Torrent to get them up to speck. I had no use for stupidly suicidal men.

If they were to give their lives, then I demanded they at least didn’t give them up stupidly.

I also needed to figure out how to turn some of Torrent into my own special forces.

The 501st was among the best of the Grand Army of the Republic, and Torrent company was the crème of the crop of that select group. My intention was to distill from the 501st a group of the ten greatest badasses of all of Torrent and make them into peerless killers. Armed and armored with equipment handcrafted by myself and Poots.

Jango Fett? That guy would have nothing on my boys.

I’d also need to come up with a name for them. They couldn’t just be ‘my boys.’

A badass name, like…Lightning Squad.

Or Nemesis Squad.

Or Lightning Nemesis Prime Squad.

Or—

“What’s got you so giddy, Padawan?”

I did not physically twitch as Anakin addressed me. But the Force betrayed me and broadcast the fact that he had indeed managed to sneak up on me to him, making him unbearably smug.

The treacherous life field was faintly amused.

My vengeance would be sweet.

“Just plans for the future.” I said, fanning myself with the stack flimsiplas sheets, they made a satisfying ‘wub wub’ sound as I did. “I’ve got a few ideas to change the training for Torrent, make them even more peerless badasses.”

“Oh? You think you can do better than the men who trained them?” He asked, joining me in gazing out the transparasteel viewport.

“In some respects, yes.” I said, flipping to the most offensive issue that I had found on my speed-reading of the Clones’ standard procedures. “Like their standard procedure for retreating. It’s bloody atrocious.”

“Huh. I’ve never given the order to fall back.” Anakin muttered with muted surprise. “What’s the procedure?”

I scoffed in disgust. “The entire group, no matter if it’s a fire team, a squad or a platoon. Turns around and starts booking it, whoever was at the rearmost plants their feet and holds their ground until they are overrun or killed. Upon which moment whichever clone was the slowest stops, turns around, and does the same thing. This continues until the standing order stops being ‘retreat’ and becomes either ‘attack’ or ‘hold your ground.’”

Anakin stared at me, wide eyed and slack jawed, then the Force burned like a blast furnace with his fury, the plasteel panels at our feet squealing as he accidentally unleashed the smallest fraction of his rage as a telekinetic wave. “That…That’s unbelievably wasteful!”

“Yup.” I spat. “And that’s just the most blatant issue! I would chalk it up to incompetence, but much of their martial training actually is incredibly good, so I’m left wondering as to why this was seemingly intentionally sabotaged. My best guess is that the Kaminoans themselves are responsible.”

He scowled. “Go on.”

“Well…someone deleted Kamino out of the Jedi archives, yeah? But the Jedi aren’t the only ones with a galactic archive, you need only know where to look.” I grinned. “And showing up to one of those archives across Coruscant while saying ‘I am a Jedi and I require access’ will get you far. Especially when you lift a recalcitrant security officer a few centimeters off the ground.”

Anakin blinked, then snorted.

“Well, I haven’t gotten a look at the actual contract. But the Kaminoans do not consider the clones they make to be ‘people.’ To them, the clones are ‘sentient product.’” I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “Depending on the exact wording of the contract, the Republic may well be leasing the Clones from the Kaminoans while footing the bill for production. So, if more of them die during a fight because they are taught from birth to fall back stupidly…”

“Then that’s called job security.” Anakin snarled.

“Mind you, that’s conjecture on my part.” I said, then shrugged. “But if the shoe fits…”

“General Skywalker!” We both turned and saw Spiff, the bridge’s on-duty communications officer. “We have an incoming transmission from the Abregado system!”

Anakin clicked his tongue. “We will continue this conversation later. Come on then.”

I followed him to the communications console. It lit up, displaying Jedi Master Plo Koon, standing at his side was a blue holographic rendition of a certain head-tailed little girl that I last saw leaping around like an orange spider monkey who had just snorted a whole kilo of glitterstimm.

“Greetings, Master Plo Koon.” Anakin said.

“Koh-to-yah, Knight Skywalker.” The tall Kel Dor said affably.

“Apologies Master, I have a meeting with the Council in a few minutes and cannot spare much time to talk. How’s the hunt for the mystery weapon going?” Anakin asked, crossing his arms and leaning back, it made him look rather arrogant.

“We’ve tracked it to the Abregado system. We need reinforcements.” Plo Koon said, cutting through the niceties.

“I’ll have to ask the Council, Master Plo.” Anakin said affably, but I could feel frustration rolling off him in waves. “I was given strict orders to protect our staging area.”

The image of Plo and Ahsoka began to flicker. The tiny togruta turned to the hulking Kel Dor. “Wh—ning—Mas—”

With a crackle of static, the communication cut off. I ordered Spiff to try to raise Master Plo again, but after several minutes we gave up.

“Okay, so we know that secret weapon has veeeeeeery strong electronic warfare systems.” I mused. “Most conventional systems would not have been able to cut us off quite that quickly.”

“Leave the analysis for later.” Anakin said, walking toward the ‘conference room’. “We need to ask the Council’s permission to reinforce him.”

I blew a raspberry. “Fifty credits says they’ll say no.”

“Fool’s bet.” Anakin muttered somewhat bitterly. “This is an important meeting, Rylanor. Be mindful, and speak only when spoken to.”

“You got it Skyboss.” I said with a lazy salute. “I don’t like talkin’ to the Council anyway, it was always to try and make me feel guilty for something or other.”

A look ghosted across Anakin’s face, a mixture of camaraderie and relief, probably at not being the only one. But he quickly schooled his features into a mask moments before the door to the Conference room whooshed open.

Looks like we were a little late, as the conference room’s holotable was on, Windu, Palpatine and Obi-Wan, with Asami fidgeting nervously behind him, all hovering a few centimeters above the table. I could feel Palpatine’s attention ghosting over me, my HUD popping on a notification that an esoteric power was lightly testing my Information Defense.

Fucker.

“The mystery weapon has struck in a dozen systems and disappeared without a trace.” Mace Windu said, rubbing at his chin in thought.

“We cannot afford to lose any more ships my friends.” Palpatine said with the affable air of a worried parent, before he turned a beaming smile Anakin’s way. “Ah, Master Skywalker. Have you had any success in finding General Grievous’ secret weapon?”

Anakin prodded a few buttons and brought up an image of three Venators cruising in the orbit of a red dwarf. “Master Plo was here in the Abregado system when we lost contact. We have attempted to reestablish communication, but so far we’ve failed. The absence of distress beacons indicates that…that his fleet was destroyed, like the others.” He squared his shoulders. “We are about to prepare a rescue mission.”

Palpatine’s face became the very picture of regret. “Hasn’t Clone intelligence reported this weapon never leaves any survivors?”

Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his beard. “The Separatists are being unusually tidy. They don’t want any witnesses.”

Yoda scowled sadly, his gaze falling to the floor for a few seconds before he spoke. “Tragic are these losses, but prevent more, we must.”

Windu took a deep breath and nodded firmly. “All our battle groups will be reassigned to guard our supply convoys, including yours, Skywalker. I’m afraid we cannot risk any more ships with a rescue mission.”

I allowed myself to twist my face into a scowl before ‘clumsily’ schooling my features, something that was not lost on Palpatine, but he did not remark on it.

“We hear and obey, Master Windu.” Anakin said.

“See that you do.” Windu said, he ended the meeting, the holograms fading away.

“That’s a strategic mistake.” I said, now that I couldn’t get in trouble. “We should be spreading out and using the hyperspace rings for the fighters, cast a wide net and scout for the mystery weapon. Once found, we could converge on it and tear it apart. Concentrating all of our forces will just let that thing roam freely.”

While Anakin clearly agreed with me, he said. “We have our orders, Rylanor.”

I grunted. “I take it that means I should tell Poots to prepare the Twilight for departure?”

“Indeed it does.” Anakin said with a quickly stifled conspiratorial grin. “I’ll go inform the Admiral we’re going on a scouting mission.”

“Nnnnnnneat.”

=][=

I shrugged my shoulders to shift my breast and backplates so they rested more comfortably against my body as the highly modified shitbox that was Anakin’s claimed G9 Rigger-class light freighter powered up.

On the one hand, its frame had been bent when he’d had it brought aboard and it had taken Poots the better part of three hours to fix the ship’s skeleton, several of its armor panels were rusty, it was half as old as Yoda and I was pretty certain that someone had died in it. On the other, it was an incredibly fine-tuned machine with a top-of-the-line hyperdrive that had been illegally modified to be rated at .25.

It was incredible what Anakin and Poots could get up to if left unsupervised in the hangar bay for an afternoon.

The inertia cancellers worked too flawlessly, the ship taking off from the Resolute’s side hangar and flying off into the dark felt no different than standing on unmoving ground.

“I’ve finished plotting a path that avoids the orbits of the Venators and the fighter squadrons’ patrol routes.” Charlotte said, sitting at the copilot station and working the controls like she’d been born at the seat. “ETA for the earliest point for safe hyperspace jump is seven minutes.”

“I gotta say Rylanor, that gasbag of yours does good work.” Anakin said, making his own adjustments to Charlotte’s pathing by making it marginally less safe, mostly by taking a flightpath that would take us uncomfortably close to the orbiting warships.

“It’s what he does, yes.” I said, leaning back into the seats I’d had installed, and put my arms around the shoulders of the blonde elven sisters, Iris and Aegis, who sat beside me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t cop much of a feel of my lovely ladies due to the armor we were all wearing.

Sussurro was puttering around the medical station in one of the ship’s other rooms, having claimed it as her domain the moment she came aboard. I had to find some way to convince that girl to relax.

Iris got a little sparkle in her eye and muttered something under her breath, an instant after that Aegis twitched as all of our armor became intangible, allowing my palm to sink into the silken pillowy flesh of Aegis’ tit and for my other hand to caress Iris’ far more modest chest.

Aegis gave her sister the stink eye as I raised a questioning eyebrow. Her only response was to wink and stick out her tongue.

I resisted the urge to lean down and lick her tongue and instead made her ears warm by finding her nipple and giving it a soft pinch while my other hand squeezed down on Aegis’ breast, making the more developed girl swallow a hiss.

My fun didn’t last long as Anakin got clear of the planet’s gravity shadow and pulled the Hyperspace lever. I let go of the girls and a second whispered incantation later, our armor once again impeded any touch. I lifted my arms to rest on top of the seats instead of around my girls’ shoulders.

Information Defense was the only reason I could risk getting a little frisky with the girls with Anakin being so close. I had to figure out a way to ward at least a room in the Resolute against detection via the emotions we’d radiate through the Force.

As it turned out, making out with a beautiful girl made it difficult to maintain the approximation of calm focus necessary to shield others from my broadcasted emotions and sensations through the Force.

I’d retreat to my pocket dimension apartment, but those required a gravity well and didn’t work past a certain altitude above a ‘floor,’ a floor that had to be at the very least tangentially connected to the gravity well’s ground. So I couldn’t sneak off to my private out of context apartment to get frisky with the girls while in a ship, which considering most of my time was going to be spent in a ship…it was certainly an issue.

Seriously, I had two hentai elves and no chance to enjoy them! This was a travesty!

“Okay, we should arrive in Abregado in about two hours.” Anakin said, proving the sheer bullshit that were his (and Poots’) abilities as a mechanic; a Venator, with its already impressive 1.0 rated Hyperdrive would require roughly seven or eight hours to cover the same (relatively) short trek.

“Hopefully there’ll still be someone to find once we get there.” I said. “Master Plo Koon may be a badass, but I don’t think he could survive getting a ship shot out from under him.”

Anakin grunted and the cab descended to an awkward silence.

I made a few popping noises with my mouth before saying. “Ssssoooo…wanna play a game of twenty questions?”

Anakin sighed. “Must we?”

“I mean, it’s that, or you could tell me where you flew off to for a few days while the Resolute was being repaired.” I said with faux innocence.

The Chosen One stared at the ever-shifting vortex of hyperspace for a long moment before saying. “So I’m thinking of a place.”

Anakin got surprisingly competitive, the two hours flew by pretty quickly.

We emerged to the dim sight of a red dwarf and a sizeable field of burnt scrap metal still settling into an orbit around it.

“So I’m going to make the wild guess that we didn’t win this fight.” I said.

“You don’t say.” Anakin groused. “R2, set scanners for life forms, maximum sensitivity.”

“We’ll never find anything in all that chaff.” I said, kneeling on the deck and taking deep breaths.

“Got a better idea?” Anakin asked.

“Yup. I’ll use the Force.” I said. “Something something with the Force as my ally, everything is possible.”

I closed my eyes, I could feel Iris paying close attention to what I did as I concentrated on submerging my cognition in the shifting tides of the collective galactic life field that was the Force.

Jedi Doctrine dictated that what I sought to do could only be done by a Master, yes, the most unlearned Padawan, if calm enough, could use the Force to find their Master in such a soup, but that would require a Bond, an infant one like the one I shared with Anakin, or the more intimate Bonds I had with my girls.

If my personality matrix had gotten to know Plo Koon while ‘I’ grew up at the Temple, I’d have enough of a Bond to follow it to the Kel Dor but said personality matrix had been true to…well…myself.

It had largely isolated itself and kept all others at arm’s length, only truly growing close to my girls once they were inserted into the Galaxy.

A Bond however, was not necessary. It merely automatically filtered out the ‘background noise’ in the Galaxy’s large field of life energy. Only a Master could hope to use his or her own cognition to filter out the background noise and find the pinpricks of life energy within their own vicinity.

In contrast, I gave the Force a poke and asked it to direct my call to the kind badass who went by the name ‘Plo Koon’ who I knew was over yonder a ways.

And a lifetime of treating the Force as a friend paid off, as with a feeling that can best be described as ‘Oh! Right, right.’ I knew the Kel Dor was stressed, just now stepping out into the vacuum of space to fight for the safety of the men with him.

“Got him!” I said, broadcasting the feeling of ‘this way, but like, up and to the left a little’ to Charlotte, who immediately took over control of the ship accelerated into the field, much to Anakin’s consternation. “He’s under attack!”

Anakin locked in and deployed the ship’s blaster cannon, I snapped my helmet to my head and rushed to the back, activating the atmospheric force field and opening the cargo bay door, then waited. I could magnetize my gloves and boots to the hull of the ship easily enough, but the inertia cancellation field did not extend beyond the hull, meaning that I’d have to personally battle the sixty or so gravities of acceleration which I was not willing to do at the moment.

The instant the ship slowed, I opened the aft boarding ramp and jumped out into the black, my armor didn’t have thrusters, an oversight that I’d have to fix on its next iteration, so I was forced to use blasts of the Force to propel myself. Soon I was hurtling toward a large construct, it looked like an escape pod’s thrust system welded onto an industrial cargo claw. It had a few B1 battledroids crewing it, which were currently in a firefight with two Clone Troopers, Master Plo Koon adrift in front of his escape pod’s transparasteel viewport, protecting it from the blaster fire.

They were all fairly surprised when I floated by and took out the droids with three precise three round bursts from my Hellgun.

The bright side of having a laser rifle? No recoil, so I wasn’t set adrift.

I did have to fling myself backwards to the pod with a Force Push though.

Once at its controls, I familiarized myself with them, then making triple sure I wasn’t about to make things worse, I released the claw’s grip.

+How’s it looking there Ry?+ Asked Charlotte over my suit’s radio.

“Looks like the droids didn’t set the pod’s distress signal off.” I said. “Though it does have a transponder, the moment it blows up, its mothership will know. We can probably use that to set up a bit of a trap. Hide among the debris field, then blow the thing up to lure its mothership in.”

+Good idea.+ Anakin said. +Stay on there, we’re reeling in Master Plo and the Clones.+

I fiddled with the controls some more. “Hey, this thing’s got better life-form scanners, than the Twilight. I’m reading a few more life pods with active life signatures.”

+Go pick them up, we’ll catch up.+ Anakin ordered.

“On it.” I said and flew off.

Looks like the claw pod had been fairly active in the two hours it took us to get here, its scanners only picked up five more escape pods with active life signatures in them, a reading that was corroborated by the Force.

It was pretty funny to see the Clones collectively shit their pants all the times I gently bonded the claw to their escape pods, then calm down when I floated over and tapped on the front viewport to wave hi.

A Venator Star Destroyer had, on average, seven-thousand four-hundred personnel, not counting an additional up to two thousand troops it can ferry around. This meant that, not counting troops, an average of twenty-two-thousand two-hundred souls had gone into the battle against the Space Bismark.

Out of which we had recovered twenty-five.

That was a survival rate of point-eleven percent. And this was only the latest losses on a rampage that now spanned fifteen warships. With a previous survival rate of zero-point-zero percent.

Any military that suffered such a loss, victorious or not, would find itself quite thoroughly shattered.

To the Republic, this catastrophic loss scenario was called Tuesday.

On the bright side, the pencil pushers at Coruscant would only need to write a total of twelve letters to the families of the deceased. Because just about nobody cared about the deaths of one-hundred-and-eleven-thousand Clones. The closest thing to mourning their passing would receive, would be shifting numbers from one column to another on a spreadsheet.

Sometimes it felt like the Republic won the title of ‘good guys’ entirely by default.

I watched as the last escape pod was set adrift from the Twilight to make space, then, making sure the pod destroyer would not crash against something and prematurely detonate, jumped across to the Twilight’s cargo area, landing with a roll as the ship’s artificial gravity enveloped me and pulled me to the deck.

The Clones had overrun the ship’s small medbay, I could feel the critically wounded being looked after by Sussurro, Iris was using her magic tinged with a bit of the Force to heal the other twenty-something men while Aegis handed out water and MREs, most of the men eating gratefully, not bothering to wait for the flameless heater to heat up their food. I could feel the gratitude and incredulity coming off them in waves as I landed. Surprised and touched in equal measure that anyone would bother rescuing them.

“Boys.” I said with a nod as I took off my helmet and hooked it to my waist. “Welcome to the Twilight. I’d stay and chat, but I believe I am needed at the bridge.”

“Sir!” They said in unison, standing and saluting as I walked past.

“At ease, at ease. Don’t stand on ceremony, you lot have been through an ordeal.” I said with a wave as I stepped into the cabin, where I flinched hard as I felt Palpatine’s all-enveloping attention ghost across my Information Defense and Force shield the moment I stepped through the doors. I tugged on Iris’ and Aegis’ souls though our Bond and pressed upon them with some urgency what I wanted them to do.

“Anakin, the Council is furious.” Palpatine chastised with the air of a worried grandparent. “Why have you left your post?”

“Your Excellency, I couldn’t just give up on Master Plo Koon.” Anakin said, right as my armor beeped, a quick integration with my HUD’s systems showed that the Pod Destroyer’s transponder had been rendered offline.

I sent psychic headpats to both of them.

“A noble gesture Anakin.” Palpatine said with a perfect facsimile of worried understanding. “But the Council feels your daring may put others in danger.”

“But it paid off!” Anakin defended with a beaming smile. “I have rescued Plo Koon, as well as the few surviving members of the battlegroup’s crew.”

Palpatine’s hologram showed surprised relief, not the smallest hint of the butt puckering rage he surely felt at survivors being found who could speak to the secret ship’s capabilities. Still, so long as the ship didn’t find itself on scanners, the lack of its exact specifications would still allow it to be a weapon of terror to maneuver the Republic into consolidating more power into the office of the High Chancellor.

“Oh my boy, those are wonderful news!” He said with a beaming smile of his own so earnest, that I would not know something was fishy if not for my Information Defense.

“Yes, Excellency, it’s my hope that with their testimony we ca—” The Space Bismark, which had probably been idling in interstellar space a few light minutes out, suddenly jumped into the system.

“Shut everything down!” I said, rushing forward and beginning to power down the ship. “Something must have destroyed the pod!”

“We’ll speak later, your Excellency!” Anakin said at Palpatine’s surprised face and cut off communication.

As the ship powered down, I turned to R2 and shut him down, then floated in the sudden zero G to the back of the Twilight to turn off any other systems or equipment that might be picked up by sensors.

Sussurro had thankfully not activated the ship’s medical droid. Something about a soulless machine not providing adequate medical care.

After a quick explanation to keep everyone calm, I gracefully floated my way back to the cabin, only missing my mark and slamming against a bulkhead or the roof three times before I arrived and missed a handhold, leaving me floating helplessly just annoyingly out of reach of anything that I could use to anchor myself.

The grace of a butterfly, thy name is Rylanor.

Master Plo Koon showed he was the far better Master, as rather than laugh at my misfortune, he extended a hand and helped me get to a handhold so I could pull myself to the transparasteel viewport.

Where I saw an utterly gargantuan ship, its every surface positively crawling with weapons even to the naked eye at a distance of kilometers, I could see a large metal disk that almost looked like an unblinking eye set on its starboard broadside.

Against my will, my lips stretched into a bloodthirsty grin.

“You find something amusing, Padawan Creed?” Master Plo Koon asked, his voice calm but I could feel his surprise and concern through the Force.

“Nah just.” I said, licking my lips. “Can you imagine the size of the fireball that will make when we blow it up?”

My question was met with silence, Ahsoka’s face in particular was funny as she looked at me like I had grown a second head.

The Kel Dor broke the silence with a sigh. “You are indeed, Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan.”

Anakin’s offended, “Hey!” broke the tension and everyone in the cabin laughed as we all relaxed.

After a short search, the ship jumped back into Hyperspace, passive sensors having recorded a wealth of information of the ship’s systems, among them the name of the ship which had been emblazoned proudly near its bridge.

Malevolence.

I made no effort to hide my grin as I felt it tugging at my lips again.

I would turn that thing into a very bright, very dirty star.

And if large (an expensive) sections of its constituent parts disappeared and resulted in resources filling my coffers?

Well, that’s just the way things go sometimes.