The Force Wills - Chapter 181 (Patreon)

“Three minutes twenty seconds to weapons range.”

I skidded to a halt next to the command chair and practically threw myself into it. Command and control holo’s winked into existence in front of me.

“Comscan, anything new you can detect?”

“Negative, General. I can’t even tell if they have a fusion or hypermatter core. No conventional engines, yet they’re achieving close to 2000G. At this close range we should be getting something… anything.” The frustration in the clone's voice managed to just sneak through his discipline. A new holo popped up, sharing the specialist’s own workstation directly and the analysis he was attempting.

Comscan was not just a single clone officer on a bridge; they had a deputy and numerous specialized droids and other clones working together in an analysis chamber within the main hull of the ship. They functioned as the eyes of the ship and made sense of what was out there.

“We think these protrusions,” sections of the polyhedral Rakatan craft were highlighted, “might be weapon emitters. No obvious launchers, hardpoints or tubes for torpedo or missile systems. However, their main hull could be hiding them. No detectable seams.”

“If those are weapons, then there is no vector to approach without being directly under a gun,” Anakin declared grimly. “No fancy maneuvering or waiting for turret traversal. As soon as these things have us in range, we’re going to be hit. I’m almost glad we don’t have fighters.”

“General, we believe we’re looking at some new form of wide band sensor masking, which is completely absorbing any form of energy our sensors are throwing out.”

That was very concerning. Sensor masking, as it had developed throughout the war and was known to galactic science, could hide you from active scans in certain sections of the spectrum, but not from everything. No material or emission absorption technique was perfect. There was always a bleedthrough or a gap, it was just a matter of finding it.

“The only way we even know they’re there is optical and we just happened to look in the right direction. I want every droid on the ship plugging themselves into the network, if they don’t have the analysis program, upload it to them. We need every processor on the ship working to scan space around us. Get me targeting solutions on those we can see.”

“At once, General!”

I looked to Anakin and my XO, “Gentlemen, any further suggestions?”

Both looked at each other and Arril spoke up, “Assuming this is clear hostile intent, we throw every anti-fighter missile we have ready at them in a time on target barrage. Overwhelm their point defense.”

Anakin nodded, “When we get closer we’ll be able to directly sense what’s on board these things.”

Looking along the probability line was not giving good news.

“Nav, adjust our course. Give me a gravitational slingshot vector for the fifth planet, keep us beyond its mass shadow and begin plotting a microjump. I’d rather spend time replacing burnt out vector manifolds in a hyperdrive than sucking vacuum.”

“Enemy craft are vectoring, acceleration reducing. One minute to intercept.”

I closed my eyes and reached out into the gulf of space beyond.

‘You feel that, Snips?’

‘Yes.’

It was clear as day, all 22 craft were present in the Force and actively using it. Technology attuned into the Force to achieve the functions you’d expect of a craft that wanted to traverse the void. It was millennia old and stunk of the Dark Side. I could feel and see no one ‘alive’ within them. There was no Rakatan pilot, there was only a cold, entangled Force Bond equivalent that led straight back to the space station.

Through that I managed to bridge the distance to the space station itself, leaping my perceptions to it.

Here, encased in molded stone and crystal, was an artificial intelligence engraved in light, suspended within the molecular structure of matter. Just the thought that at some point in the distant past, there was some Rakata artisan who had wielded the Force with such precision and knowledge, to craft what I beheld, was difficult to accept.

The space station was a 2 km behemoth, octagonal, wide at the top, tapering to a narrow point. Unlike the Rakatan drones, the hull was a mix of stone and metallic surfaces, a black-green alloy with void obsidian sections that formed an interesting, yet alien pattern that wasn’t pleasant at all to look at. I felt a strange instinctual revulsion, my own mind pushing a fight-or-flight that was encoded on an DNA level. That it even existed at all was a surprise to me.

I rallied against the feeling and focused.

Hundreds of empty corridors, skeletal fragments and dust. Part of the station hull was just gone and completely open to space. I couldn’t tell if it was some ancient battle or just a disaster that had inflicted the damage.

Then I was perceived.

The Rakatan AI looked at me through the Force.

‘Force-Thrall Unit – Designation: Active. Uncollared. You are on a rebel ship. Prepare for deactivation.’

“Uh, Snips. Tell me you heard that as well?” Anakin looked at me with astonished eyes.

“If you mean the station intelligence calling me a Force-Thrall Unit, yes.”

“General?” Arril looked in confusion at us both.

“Later, XO. We just confirmed a suspicion. They are definitely hostile. Designate them as Rakata enforcement drones in the log.”

Arril dutifully did so, even as I sensed his confusion and fear. All clones were given a general scientific education, during the maturation years, but it also included a general galactic history primer. He would generally know the basics of the Infinite Empire, but nothing detailed.

The drones entered extreme weapon’s range.

“Guns, by all means, fire everything we have in our launcher cells,” I ordered calmly.

“Time on Target, ripple fire, affirmative, General.”

Over four seconds, Conqueror belched out 432 concussion missiles from every anti-fighter launcher cell along the hull’s wedge perimeter.

My hands danced on the interactive holos in front of me, sending fifty missiles towards eight of the drones, leaving the remainder to spend themselves on random targets.

I pulled myself back from the space station completely and embraced every crewman aboard within the cradle of Battle Meditation. Immediately, every hand and mind moved that much smoother, faster, coordinating the reload of the launcher cells with nigh unnatural efficiency.

‘Force-Thrall Unit – Designation: Active. Uncollared. Class: Coordinator. You are aiding the rebel ship. Cease.’

That the AI was demonstrably using Galactic Basic to communicate into my mind was another puzzle to solve. It should only know the Rakatan language and all the ancient slave race tongues. Yet here it was, throwing modern Basic straight through the Force into my head. It had even catalogued my Battle Mediation and it was quite fascinating that apparently the Rakata had a name for it.

A few seconds later the missiles reached their target.

Black-red coherent energy beams began drawing lines through space towards our missiles with supreme accuracy. Their speed was definitely below light, so there was some mass to the beams, but it was still quick enough that it was an academic discussion.

In one second, fifteen missiles targeting a single drone ceased to exist as anything but small debris that continued on with momentum. The next second, twelve died and the following moment, fourteen.  

Nine made it to terminal attack range and detonated.

The hammer blow of protons lanced inward.

And seemingly achieved nothing.

‘Snips, did you just sense those drones use a technological Force Push?’

‘Of extreme strength, yes.’

The results across all the targeted drones were the same, except for one.

Which for some reason, managed to let through 13 missiles to terminal attack range.

In the next second, the Rakatan drone shattered into fragmentary debris that shot outward in a sphere.

‘Either that drone was overwhelmed with sufficient firepower or it was malfunctioning due to age,’ Anakin theorized.

“Guns! Use the missile pattern that attacked designated Drone Senth in the next volley, instruct the droids to iterate and build on it,” I ordered urgently.

“Understood, General. Adjusting attack pattern. Missiles away!”

The next volley of 432 missiles screamed into space and already the evasive patterns were adjusting as the astromechs learned how this new opponent fought.

Missile interception rate dropped.

Seven dead the first second, nine the second, eleven… terminal attack…

Four Rakatan drones became shattered debris in that volley.

We would only have time for one more volley before the drones would reach their apparent energy weapon range.

“Guns, keep firing missiles even when the enemy reaches our Point Defense range.”

Our third wave of missiles streamed out into space, drawing scintillating blue ion lines behind them. I never failed to be awed by the view when it happened. As if the Conqueror was an artist and space her canvas.

As much as I hoped that we would destroy more drones, the Rakatan AI proved that it too could learn. Iterating on its attack pattern, anti-missile fire and evasions, so that our entire volley only destroyed three drones.

Over a thousand missiles to kill just eight YT-1300 sized drones.

It thoroughly explained the minimal historical records and oral history for why the ancient Rakatan slave rebellions had never truly been fought in space. The Rakatan Force-derived technology combined with the knowledge they stole from the ancient Qwa was just too powerful to contest evenly. Only when the plague had begun robbing them of their Force abilities, preventing their technology from functioning properly, did any rebellions begin finding success. Any AIs they had made, like this one, was unable to receive updates or new orders. It wouldn’t surprise me if some of the rebel ‘Thralls’ had even managed to figure out how to usurp them.

“Guns, belay my last. I want all our turbolasers that can be brought to bear to engage. Rapid fire mode, maximum spread.”

The big anti-capital bombardment turbolasers would struggle to maintain traversal, but at least with the enemy at max energy range, the sheer saturation meant that some would hit.

“You don’t think point defense cannons can make it through?” Anakin questioned.

“Not before it matters,” I gave him a grim look.

The drones pushed into the Conqueror’s extreme energy range.

The perimeter and dorsal side of the ship erupted with giant blue bolts that streamed outward. They were only firing at 20% power, but it allowed for a rapid fire shotgun effect.

It was a struggle to not show any reaction to the result.

As expected, the drones jinked and dodged through space, using their fantastic maneuverability that didn’t care about inertial dampening or a squishy pilot inside. Most of the blasts missed, continuing on into the void, their energy wasted.

The blasts that did hit, seemed to just twist briefly before reaching the drone’s hull, before the bolt just dispersed, seemingly becoming like water that spread out the energy over a greater surface area of the hull.

My eyes were glued to the sensor readouts, drinking every detail in. Through the Force, I perceived how the absorbed energy was effectively transmuted and just became an effective power source for the drone. 

“They have some form of adaptive energy dispersion field, it breaks down a turbolaser bolt’s primary containment, then lets thermodynamics and space do the work of neutralizing the destructive potential.”

“Tutaminis for a ship,” Anakin said with mild disbelief in his tone.

I nodded, “Now the question is, how much can they absorb? Can we overload it? Should we even try?”

He shook his head, “No. We’re just giving them more power to redirect at us. When those drones reaches their energy range-”

“Guns, cease turbolaser fire immediately. Go missile plan Aurek. Load high-yield torpedoes. Program area detonations and slave control directly to my command chair.”

Conqueror’s brilliant light show stopped and the fourth missile salvo leaped into space.

Anakin raised an eyebrow at me, “Torpedoes?”

“Notice how tightly the drones are clustering themselves for mutual defense now.”

He nodded as the salvo danced and lanced into the enemy, more than two dozen astromechs working in concert, sharing data, analyzing, iterating and working on guiding the munitions to achieve successful hits.

Three died, shattering into metallic stone and crystalline fragments that turned space into small novas of glitter that reflected the light of the local star.

Eleven drones crossed the invisible threshold, entering their own energy range.

In the first second, nothing happened.

They continued their course straight towards Conqueror.

In a heartbeat, eleven red-black beams swept across space and intersected with the Conqueror's shield perimeter.

The shields flared into visible light as they struggled to shrug off the intruding energy.

I felt my ship shudder horribly under my feet.

My hands curled into fists, struggling to not show my disbelief as the shields seemingly held, yet beyond the impact points, the hull armor began buckling as if some invisible rapid fire fist got through anyway and hammered into the Conqueror.

This close I could feel the Rakatan weapon work acutely. It was not just a plasma/particle beam hybrid weapon. It also blended in a terrifyingly powerful gravitic shear effect that went right through the shields. And if that wasn’t enough to bring to the nightmare, the hull armor wasn’t just being deformed.

I watched as it began being molecularly disrupted, turning into cloudy particles which became excited into a high local ambient temperature, fountains of yellow light erupting as it drilled through the hull armor.

An Acclamator-IIs hull was the result of the best materials science that the Republic had access to. It was a durasteel superalloy that contained a multi-layered composite whose primary armor belt was impregnated with a metastable neutron-rich lattice. Below that were metallic foam layers for shock absorption, and even electrically conductive pathways that were supposed to bleed off energy.

The Rakatan drone weapons laughed at it.

Every technique meant to resist a blast from a modern capital turbolaser was obviated.

Mercifully, the beams stopped after three very long seconds. I felt the drone’s capacitors run dry.

I didn’t hesitate, my hands blurring into the holo controls, my Battle Meditation reaching out toward every missile crewman still working the reload cycles.

A heartbeat later, they stopped loading and slammed hands down on readiness indicators in the system. My hand practically punched the haptic holo in front of me.

210 missiles leaped outward, the half volley fired through the typical reload cycle. The controller astromechs squealed in surprise when they suddenly found themselves in control of weapons they hadn't expected. However, like the clever little droids they were, they knew the only way it could’ve happened and a few milliseconds later began steering.

19 missiles arced into each remaining drone.

Their capacitors began pulling energy, recharging to actively defend, but here even the laws of physics, despite being manipulated extensively through the Force technology, fell short.

Proton hammerblows erupted through space, brief white lights appearing at the ends of long blue ion trails.

“Comscan?” I asked in the deafening silence of the bridge.

“Confirmed, General. All Rakatan drones destroyed.”

“Damage report?”

“Still coming in, General.”

I stood from my chair and walked forward to see it with my own eyes through the forward transparisteel.

On the port side dorsal side, Conqueror had been practically mauled by a figurative bear with eleven claws. Each glowing wound streaking along the armor for nearly 30 meters and exposing ruined, sparking systems and conduits beneath. At multiple points I could see atmospheric leaks and even glinting ice crystals streaming out into the void as multiple precious water lines had been severed completely.

Anakin stopped next to me, bringing with him a holo that was showing a ship cross-section, the damage marked in red. His finger drew a direct line, tracing the target the drones had been going for.

“They were literally drilling straight for the hypermatter reactor. If they had taken a second full power shot…” He let out a huff of relief. “Good job, Snips.”

“It would’ve been nice to do it without getting hit, but giving them that shot was the only way to get a gap in their defenses. Not to mention giving the Rakatan AI a pattern to recognize and plan around.”

‘Force-Thrall Unit – Designation: Active. Uncollared. Class: Coordinator. You-”

A thought adjusted my mental defenses, severing the constant connection the Rakatan AI was forcing into my mind.

“Comscan, are you detecting any drone launches from that space station or similar beam weapons?”

“Negative on the launches, General. There are some similar weapon arrays on the station’s ventral side, towards the planet itself, but none on the dorsal side.”

“Plot a high yield torpedo solution that targets that side and the damaged sections.”

“Solutions plotted, General.”

“Make it go away.”

Eight torpedoes streaked outwards from Conqueror’s central launch tubes.

Anakin winced, still listening to the enemy, “That Rakatan intelligence isn’t happy.”

“No, I expect it isn’t.”

“It’s almost a shame. We’re destroying something that would be considered by some to be a priceless relic.”

“A relic with deadly teeth, Skyguy. We lost 9 crew and many injured from those weapons. Our hull was carved open like foil.”

42 seconds later a bright flash in orbit of the fifth planet reduced the Rakatan station into fragments, some of which would begin raining down on the planet below, painting red streaks through the atmosphere.

I turned around away from the view and lowered myself back into the command chair, resisting the urge to retreat back to my cabin. “Nav, full acceleration forward, get us to our onward jump point.”

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Six hours later the Conqueror was swinging past the extreme outer orbit of the local star, cruising at close to a quarter the speed of light.

Time in which the crew took stock, made repairs to internal systems and hull as best as they could outside of an actual space dock. The wounds on the hull had to be actually increased, removing sections so that new hull plating would properly align and fuse together. Internal magazines and cargo bays were tapped to replace the spent ordnance, something I hadn’t imagined happening at all until after our job at Golatha was complete.

Analysis droids from the Comscan department, including a clone who was the closest thing the Conqueror had to a science officer, with the unfortunate name of Fluke, already had the damaged plating under every scanner the ship had. S&R shuttles had also managed to retrieve a large amount of Rakatan wreckage from space as we had passed by the fifth planet.

I ordered a halt to the operation the moment we filled the floor space of an entire cargo bay.

“You realize the sheer value of it,” Anakin looked up from his half-empty plate of dinner.

The Ward Room was filled with every senior department head and officer, each at their own place at the table and also enjoying a meal prepared by the combined efforts of Cloud and myself.

“Acutely, Skyguy,” I said after swallowing some perfectly seared medium rare nerf meat. “Could probably crash the collectors market for Rakatan artifacts and materials. As it is, at least the Conqueror’s own financial future is set with careful management.”

“RI might classify this entire encounter,” he pointed out.

“Undoubtedly, but I’m sure Captain Olva can be persuaded to see reason in the matter,” I looked across the table at the chief of Conqueror’s RI detachment.

Captain Alys Olva was a Coruscanti woman and career intelligence officer who transferred from planetary security work into Republic Intelligence early in the Clone Wars. Before being assigned to my ship, she was involved in counter-intelligence and logistics security work along major hyper lanes; identifying saboteurs, double agents, and supply-line vulnerabilities. She only had an eight man team of analysts, signal specialists and field agents. It was therefore far easier to run rings around them and I considered them just one of my many tools to keep Palpatine deceived.

She was a lean woman, taller than most and favored the dark gray naval uniform with minimal insignia. You’d have to be very close to even see the Intelligence badge on her left shoulder. Her sharp, observant eyes considered me briefly before nodding.

“Naturally General, my department will first want to see if there is any data to be salvaged,” Olva slowly cut through her steak and speared a piece with precision. “However, if my memory of history serves, it will require a Force Sensitive to access such information.”

I gave Anakin a look, to which he nodded, “Since you’re going to be stuck in the navigation chamber, I’ll join the analysis team.”

“Thanks Skyguy. Chewie, will we be ready to jump?”

My wookiee friend looked up from his substantial plate of meat, a volume of food that most would find off putting just to look at. “Hyperdrive diagnostics returned no problems. Major systems are restored and we at least won’t be jumping with gaping holes in our hull. I’m still running tests to see if the Rakatan weapons didn’t leave any residual issues behind.”

“Make it a priority, I want this ship back to fighting fit when we reach our destination.”

“General, I’ve been reviewing our scan logs on the fifth planet,” Commander Arril poured himself some quin-berry juice from a large jug. “With the battle and our hurry to move on, I think it was an understandable oversight, but there is a civilization down there.”

“Really?” I felt excited and rather stupid in retrospect, not having considered the possibility. “How large? New species?”

“Roughly 120 million spread across the continents around the places you’d expect for fresh water access and food harvesting. Lifesigns suggest humanoid but matches nothing on record. Agrarian civilization moving into a city-state stage. No artificial EM signals.”

Anakin chuckled as the realization hit me, “Congratulations, Snips. You just saved an entire civilization. Opening the door to their future. Imagine when they develop the first primitive spaceflight, what would that Rakatan station have done?”

“Judging by our reception, it would’ve blasted it apart. So this was a Rakatan slave world.”

That would entirely change the nature of any follow-up expedition to this system. The decision on whether contact should occur would then be up to the Jedi Council, only after extensive investigation.

“Well, thank you XO, for certainly brightening my day.” I brought my glass of Nubian wine to hand and raised it. “Gentlemen and lady, it’s been a long voyage into the unknown and a harrowing day, but we survived it, thanks to all of your efforts. With this level of commitment, I’m certain that our success will only continue. I pay tribute to the nine who are no longer with us today, but whose sacrifice ensured that we continue in the mission. Finally, I toast to the Conqueror. May she carry us through the fire, deliver us to the fight, and bring us home again. Conqueror!”

“Conqueror!” returned the whole room, raising their glasses.

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Conqueror plunged into hyper, leaving the 31-ASR-14AT system behind.

As before, Ahsoka powered the ship to max hyper velocity and every astromech on board agreed that Golatha was only five hours away.

Anakin was very careful with his own thoughts as he carefully stepped through the narrow walking lanes of the cargo bay. He scanned with his eyes and the Force as he passed each piece of Rakatan wreckage.

Some were no larger than a fist, others were jagged metallic stones standing at hip height, each given a dedicated space on the floor that was marked with a sample ID code. 

It was quite disturbing and uncomfortable. Each piece actively radiated corrupted Force energy and he felt like he was going to need to spend days in a Refresher to feel clean again.

He knelt next to a piece of Rakata tech that actually looked somewhat intact, if slightly scorched. An obsidian sphere held within angular stone arms.

He waved a scanner wand over it and scowled at the results the machine delivered on the datapad.

‘Unknown alloy matrix. No matches in database.’

“Obviously,” he scoffed. He swiped on the datapad to look at the molecular scan directly instead of computer interpretation. 

That has to be trace organic compounds interwoven at the molecular level, but it's definitely deliberate, he thought. The atomic structure was also stable, but even as he looked the mass reading fluctuated by .03% before his eyes.

Through the Force, he could feel a persistent energy beside the Dark Side residue, but it wasn’t EM, thermal or even in the particulate spectrum.

He felt the device greedily latching onto the ambient Force that naturally radiated from him and drink it in.

The datapad blurted a tone, indicating that the mass now fluctuated by a full percent. He quickly took a step back and consciously clamped down on his signature, sealing it in so it didn’t go beyond his skin. Sure enough, the device went back to its baseline original mass reading.

He switched scanning programs, intending to get a look at the internal structure of the sphere. It revealed a lattice work that defied even applying the term ‘complex’ to it. His initial instinct was that he was looking at data storage, then the entire structure changed before his eyes. Certain pathways were appearing to occupy the same space depending on scanning angle?

There was no traditional circuitry, only repeating structures that resembled both crystal growth and neural tissue.

Following his instincts, he carefully extended the lightest of Force probes into the sphere. Only to see several internal nodes altering their density.

“Having fun, Knight Skywalker?”

Anakin gave a much better looking Master Damsin a frustrated look. “Not so much, Master. I know machines, droids and technology in general, what I have here makes me feel like I’m a pre-space mechanic poking a hyperdrive with a stick.”

She folded her hands into her large sleeves, “Not surprising given we’re talking about the technology of the Rakata Infinite Empire. Our own technology can barely claim a millennium of understanding, even though we’re building on the remains of knowledge from the Old Republic. It’s widely accepted that even the Old Republic had multiple similar cycles of lost technology and rediscovery.”

The scanner in his hand threw an error tone and a quick look showed it was desynchronized for some reason.

He frowned and began a diagnostic program, which quickly produced an even more baffling answer.    

“Odd.”

Damsin raised an eyebrow, “What?”

He held up the datapad and scanner wand, “The chronometer on this scanning unit is suddenly 0.4 seconds behind the ship’s time.”

“Program error?”

“No, but I’ve manually corrected it.”

He put the scanner wand back in contact with the Rakatan sphere, studying the internal structure again. “Master, do me a favor, and stand closer right next to me.”

Damsin nodded serenely and stepped forward. Sure enough, there was a clear different response from internal nodes due to their combined presence.

“Definitely reacting to us.” The datapad blurted another error code. “Chronometer is again desynced, 0.8 seconds… what?”

“There are only two explanations,” Damsin nodded. “The Rakatan sphere is using the scanner wand as an invasive channel and reprogramming it… please tell me that datapad is isolated and not connected to the ship network, Skywalker.”

“Yes, it’s isolated,” he said carefully, trying not to feel insulted at the idea that he wouldn’t take such a basic precaution. “Your second theory?”

“That the sphere is actually manipulating the experienced time of whoever and whatever is in direct contact with it.”

Having subjectively experienced that in Mortis, Anakin could certainly believe it was possible, but that it could be done by such a small device, seemingly for no discernable reason, that he had a problem with. 

Damsin knelt carefully and regarded the sphere with an intensity that puzzled him, before she decisively reached out with her left hand and placed it on the upper hemisphere of the device.

Any query or objection he could voice died in his throat as the sphere abruptly flashed with a dim light. The light itself seemed to congeal and flow, as if it was made of water. It gathered at the apex of the upper hemisphere under her hand before streaming upwards into a pillar of light.

It ignored her hand entirely, phasing through it until it stopped two meters in the air and spread outward into a mild strobing explosion of light.

The flowing light began coming together, creating distinct points and became something instantly recognizable.

A star chart.

Just a glance let him recognize that this map represented the current sector Conqueror was traversing through. He didn’t hesitate to slap him comlink, “R2, to my location as quickly as you can. Need your help here.”

The faithful astromech chirped immediately that he was on his way.

He turned his gaze to Damsin, who only smiled with golden eyes twinkling in amusement. “How did you even know? It could’ve been anything. There could’ve been safeguards that prevented access or even killed anyone unauthorized. The Rakatan intelligence clearly identified us as renegade ‘Force-Thralls.’”

“You know the answer, Skywalker. If anyone has to take risks on this voyage, I’m much more expendable. Also, I know when it comes to machines, you have the greatest understanding and ability on his ship, yet this technology is beyond our science. Therefore we must instead trust the Force to guide us in this regard.”

The sector map above them changed, shimmering slightly and what had to be hyperlanes were superimposed on it, but he immediately noticed that many of them were hopelessly wrong and out of date.

In one glance he saw nine lanes that intersected with stars and other deadly cosmic phenomena.

He’d barely begun to feel disappointment when the lanes shifted, as if the map was updating itself before his eyes!

A map just couldn’t do that. No navicomputer could possibly recompute an entire sector of hyperlanes in seconds. Actual observation from an entire satellite network would be needed, months of cycle time from ground based navicomputers. Did this mean that there were still Rakatan observatories out there?

“Take a look,” Damsin pointed into the strange Rakatan holo.

He followed the line of her finger and spotted a small violet sphere moving through the sector. 

It was gliding through one of the newly updated hyperlanes with precision.

“If I’m judging this chart correctly, that little sphere represents us. And if that’s the case, we’re going to have a much easier time leaving Golatha and Separatist space.”

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I opened my eyes and cradled my head in my hands.

The sheer relief that it was over, hit me like an asteroid impact.

The Conqueror was now safely delivered into the Kuiper Belt of the Golatha system. The fear of failure, of stranding Anakin and my crew to endure months and maybe even years of waiting for rescue, was at last banished and off my shoulders. I felt the ship’s repulsors and thrusters begin pulsing as XO Arril guided us into the sensor shadow of the nearest icy asteroid of sufficient size. The ship also went into a low-emission mode, securing everything that could possibly still betray our position out here.

A few quick gestures brought up a live holo from passive sensors as the picture of our target system started to build itself.

The Golatha system had a stable yellow-orange main sequence star, slightly smaller and cooler than average. It gave the inner-system an amber tint rather than pure white light.

Golatha III was our actual target. A cloudy, grey-blue terrestrial planet with heavy industrial haze in the atmosphere. Even from our current position, we could see a faint ring of orbital infrastructure; old mining stations, debris and few larger platforms. The night side of the planet let us see faint glows and the occasional drive plumes of ships coming and going to the surface.

Two smaller rocky worlds were closer to the star, barren, cratered and seemingly uninhabited, but was exactly the place you would want to keep things hidden.

A sparse, disrupted asteroid belt flowed between the inner planets and the outer gas giants, showing clear evidence of heavy mining in the past.

The two gas giants were also unremarkable; one a banded, green-white world with icy moons and the further giant was dark blue with a chaotic moon system that felt like someone had thrown random rocks at it in the past and just let gravity have its way.

The system felt quiet with little civilian traffic. It was difficult to believe that there was a major droid factory here building the supposed war winning droid for the CIS. In that respect, they had entirely succeeded in their deception.

The faint, tightly collimated drive signatures, their speed and pattern, suggested automated freighters were the primary method for transporting raw ores towards Golatha III. It also spoke of patrol craft running dark and I’d bet there was also a network of cloaked scouts. Most of the system surveillance was fixed towards the Barkhesh jump point, the ordinary way of getting here, which would eventually run straight into the Corellian Trade Spine’s southernmost reaches.

There was also a suspicious gravitational anomaly near one of the outer gas giant’s trailing Trojan points. It indicated that there was supposed to be a significant mass there, but it was being artificially muted and nothing was visible there otherwise.

A cloaked space station?

It was entirely possible, but very energy intensive, a cost that would scale with the size of the station. That led to the obvious question of why you want to incur such a cost. A critical R&D project?

Something to definitely investigate.

“Tano to XO.”

“XO here, General.”

“Launch a flight of cloaked scouts, I want five for Golatha III, but send one towards Golatha V. That grav anomaly looks like the Seppies cloaked a space station imperfectly. I want the scout to see if a close range passive may reveal more before we launch a covert action on it.”

“At your command, General. XO out.”

The chime at the door of the navigation chamber chirped.

I idly waved a hand to unlock it as I gazed into the new results coming through from the Comscan teams.

Anakin and Taria walked in, the former with an expression on his face that I saw through immediately.

“Is this really the right time for this, Skyguy?”

He looked at me with a put-upon expression, “Really Snips? You just navigated us through the unknown, pioneered an entirely new route. That surely deserves some celebration.”

“When we’re standing in the ruins of the factory and are safely away, sure. Not before.”

He held up a small holo disc that switched on to produce a star map.

I blinked as the smaller, improbable, details wormed its way into my brain and burst out of my seat. “Where the frak did you get this?!”

My hands grabbed at the holo, zooming in and manipulating it.

“The Rakatan debris had-”

“A frakking intact Star Map!”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it completely intact, but it worked enough to fill in the entire sector…”

I fluttered my hands, waving him off, excitement surging through me. “No, you don’t understand. Rakatan Star Maps are not just limited to being a ‘map’. They’re part of an entangled network, distance is meaningless to these devices. With a single map that is unlocked, you have access to the location of every other star map in the galaxy. If it's ever sliced to have the same access as a Rakatan administrator, we’d have the entire Infinite Empire’s map at our fingertips.”

Anakin looked down at the map copy he’d made with astonishment. “Right, so my little surprise gift is actually worth a lot more. Good to know.”

I actually gaped at him for a long moment, briefly possessed by the urge to jump him, pull him into a hug and a lot more…

Thankfully Taria’s presence brought rationality crashing down and instead I did the socially acceptable thing for the bloody RI bug in the navigation room.

I bowed, “Thank you Masters for finding this and bringing it to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my hands on this Star Map. Still in the cargo bay?”

“Yes, but sectioned off, secured and under guard.”

I nodded and with as much dignity as possible, did not run out of the navigation chamber.

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The door to Briefing Room One opened and Ursa Wren led her squadron of Blades into a space that was already packed with senior officers from the navy, 96th and 501st legions.

Unlike similar rooms on the Venators, this one had a compact, circular, multi-tiered arrangement, with a central space that doubled as a holotank, but allowed the briefing officer to walk within it.

She led the way to open seating on the lowest row. The room was a din of low, muttered conversations as clones talked about the gossip running through the social veins of the ship and rumors of the upcoming mission. The air had the smell of recycled atmosphere, the many bodies in it and the particular tension that always preceded a major operation.

The 501st clustered together, easy and confident in that way Skywalker’s troops always were. The 96th were more reserved, disciplined, still carrying the weight of Scipio, their distinctive helmets on their laps or held under arms; the face pattern of the Manda’lor on each. Navy officers stood with datapads already lit, speaking in the clipped shorthand of people who live by schedules and fuel reserves.

It was like looking at three allied Mandalorian clans in all but name.

“General on deck!”

The entire room was immediately on their feet. Two distinctive salutes among the assembled troops. Fists to chest from the Blades, hands to temple from the clones.

The Manda’lor strode forward in her full robed hybrid armor, blending the philosophies of Mandalore and the Jedi. Skywalker followed with his own distinctive armor and Master Damsin entered last, who remained as the odd one out in the room, looking like a pre-war Jedi in standard beige robes.

“At ease,” ordered Manda’lor Tano, coming to stand in the center, whilst the whole room retook their seats.

A huge holo of Golatha III appeared above her head.

A world of huge archipelagos strung like pearls on an ocean with the occasional continental islands making up the majority of the land surface area. Tall mountains with forests at their base described some areas of this world. It should’ve been a paradise, but centuries of industry had turned the atmosphere into an unpleasant yet breathable brew and evidence of wood harvesting was everywhere.

The view zoomed into the northern hemisphere, just on the eastern continental coast, a mountain range that could be described as a wall, upon which an ocean was battering day and night.

“Soldiers of the Republic, I present to you our target.”

The view zoomed in further to a specific mountain, standing over 5.8 kilometers high, the tallest in the chain. It became transparent, the holo turning wire frame and showing an underground factory complex, built like an insect hive.

Ursa could practically feel the tension in the room grow palpable and there were even a couple of audible groans in the back from members of the 501st.

The Manda’lor’s visor shifted as she turned her head in that direction and Ursa knew that there would be a wry smirk there.

“This is a Baktoid Combat Automata facility, built by geonosian hands. Whether our old insectoid opponents are here running things we cannot say. The facility is too deep and shielded for passive sensors to make much headway. Nevertheless, we will prepare for them, so all troops will go through refresher sim on the lessons learned fighting those bugs before this mission leaves.”

The holo zoomed back out slightly, showing a series of tunnels that led straight to a nearby active volcano and another set of tunnels from the north side that was pulling in air to ventilate and fuel the industry below.

“The factory emissions are being disguised as volcanic outgassing, and our easiest entrance is the northern ventilation tunnels. Therefore we will not be using them as they are undoubtedly trapped killzones and I have no intention of reenacting Scipio from the other side of the equation.”

The clones of the 96th nodded emphatically.

“The only other entrance is the actual one that the droids built in this factory will actually use.”

The holo turned to the southern side of the mountain, showing a cunningly disguised, curved entrance that blended seamlessly into the rocky landscape leading to a tunnel that was fifteen meters tall. As much as the Separatists had tried to hide it, the offworld raw materials had to reach the factory somehow. The wide road leading to it was mostly camouflaged from orbital view by actual artificial trees.

“The defenses here are also formidable. Energy signatures indicate buried Repeater and cannon emplacements that would cut down any attacking force coming through here in unacceptable numbers. Three points of advance, all equally devastating. We’re also limited by time; the Separatist fleet could reinforce this position from the small Sil’Lume garrison within 18 hours with a half squadron of Munificents.

“I’d give the Conqueror even odds with three or even four Munificents in a pinch. If we are at our best, not six. We can not let this turn into a space battle. Lucky for us, KDY has not been blind to the propensity of the enemy for underground structures and factories, which is why we left with the first Republic answer to the Separatist Trident Assault Ships.”

The holo changed and showed what Ursa thought at first was the typical twelve man escape pod that launched from Venators. The differences became apparent with a closer look, as these had a power core that belonged on a fighter, shields, repulsors and a powerful collimated laser emitter on one end, no windows and only an egress hatch on the other.

“Its official name is Crustbreaker, I’m sure you will invent a suitable nickname for them.” The smile in the Manda’lor’s voice was obvious. “We can’t use any of the entrances… so we will make our own. These assault ships can be dropped from orbit, re-enter atmo, hover over a target and bore through up to 80 meters of rock within minutes. The emitters burn themselves out to achieve that speed, but it’ll do the job.”

The holo zoomed onto the upper reaches of the target. “We will be targeting the thinnest parts to achieve breakthroughs and once inside, our job is to fight our way through and sabotage the place thoroughly; reactor, manufacturing lines, armories, fabricators and theater shield. Once we are done, all troops rendezvous at the ventilation tunnels, disabling the defenses and gunships will pick us up outside. Once this place explodes, the Conqueror will microjump back into orbit and glass the area with her turbolasers.”

Manda’lor looked around at the assembled officers. “Questions so far?”

Her only answer was silence and the tapping of datapads. “Excellent, specific assignments will be on your pads immediately after the briefing. Good luck, and may the Force be with us.”

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A/N: Not going to be a cakewalk at all. Just a reminder that Theater Shields are energy/ray based, stopping orbital bombardment, but lets air/objects through. So Conqueror cannot just jump, burn into low orbit and shoot that mountain to pieces.

Hope you enjoyed and have a great weekend. Stay awesome!