They'll never work in the Corporate Sector again, you hear me? Your family is going to be beggars for the next hundred generations!
If you're still in that office and uniform by the time the security droids arrive to escort you out, they'll tear that uniform right off you!"
...
With that, he hung up, fists shaking with outrage. "Get me the fleet commander at Reltooine. We're going to reassign him to the Zyggerian Sector. What was his name again?" Grib snapped his fingers, trying to remember.
"Sir, Hekknar is unavailable."
Grib turned around, looking at his aid in disbelief. "What?! Why?!"
"He's currently engaged in an action on the Hydian."
"Who ordered that?!" Grib demanded. "I didn't order that?! What's he doing?!" Seething, Grib quickly used his own personal compad to dial Hekknar. The phone rang once, twice, before finally it was answered.
Hecknar was currently seated, likely in his command chair aboard the bridge of his flagship. For some reason he was the one who already looked angry, not Grib.
"Viceroy, I'm a little busy."
"What's going on Hecknar? Why are you advancing down the Hydian?"
"Sir, I had a report sent to you. After the attack on the Bonadon refinery, a ship was chased away from the scene by the patrol fleet there, but the patrol fleet was ambushed at Cadomai by the Serenno House Fleet. They took heavy damage and called for reinforcements. By the time my fleet arrived, the Serenno House Fleet was already retreating in disarray. I am currently in pursuit of the Serenno House Fleet. We'll bring those bastard to justice for what they did today."
Grib blinked at the moment, mind racing. "Wait you fool! Don't you see?! The Bonadon fleet was lured into a trap at Cadomai, and now you're chasing the Serenno Fleet?! They're leading you into a blasted trap, you fool!"
Hecknar stared up at Grib's face from the palm of his hand, before comprehension dawned. "What should I do?"
"Turn around and come back, you fool!" Grib snarled. "Stop now before it's too late!"
Hecknar nodded quickly, and immediately began issuing orders to his fleet. Grib sighed, hanging up and leaving the man to it.
"Alright." He considered his next steps. "Call an emergency board meeting. We're going to have to come up with a plan to find more Hypermatter. And get some of our lawyers on the line. I need to know what the blowback will be if I start requisitioning hypermatter from our clients." Mouth keeping pace with his thoughts, Grib rattled off a series of commands that his aides dutifully took down, even as he changed out of his workout clothes and into a nice set of formal robes.
What an absolute disaster this day had been, and it wasn't even breakfast yet. Still, it was hardly like the day could get any worse from here. At least he'd managed to avert one crisis.
...
After watching and waiting for several hours, Ky Narec finally received the sign he'd been waiting for. It wasn't anything specific, just a heightened sense of confusion in the Zyggerrian Sector.
Taking out his holocom, Ky dialed his scouts. "Status report, what's changed?"
One of the scouts wasn't on the call, apparently away, but the one who remained looked surprised. "I was about to call you. Our informant is placed next to one of the Federation Commodores, and word has it that the Sector Admiral was dragged out of his office by a squadron of Battle Droids. He's been relieved of duty."
Ky almost couldn't believe his luck. "And who's his replacement?"
"That's the thing! It's been hours, and no one has been announced as his replacement. Currently, the Vice Admiral just called for a meeting with the Fleet Commodores, trying to get them to recognise him as the acting commander until a replacement arrives, but none of them are willing to go to the meeting because they're afraid it will look like insubordination to the next guy."
"Great work." Ky hung up and turned to face the rest of the bridge. He'd been prepared for this moment for a while now. His hyperspace jump had been plotted since he took Ranroon, and the fleet had been in a state of alert for this exact moment. "We're jumping in five, people! Five minutes! Set the clock."
...
Former Admiral Septu paced back and forth, glancing at his clock, at his orders, at his holocom, then back again. Minutes passed in an agonising crawl, his heart thudding painfully in his chest as it did. Fired! Him? After working so hard, for so long, Septu was fired. He swallowed, dabbing a handkerchief at his glands, and tried to compose himself, but failed.
He felt like weeping. What was he going to do without his salary? Without the kickbacks his officers sent him for the fuel they skimmed? He'd made financial commitments, and now he had no idea how he could meet them.
This wasn't his fault! This wasn't fair! He was in his last year of service before retirement, and he hadn't politicked his way into command of the crucial Zyggerian sector fleet because he actually planned to see battle, but here he was expected to command the largest military action the Galaxy had seen in a thousand years? Who was the genius that had that idea?!
There was a pounding at his door, and Septu lurched around to face it. He swallowed once, before answering it. The droids had given him five minutes to collect his things from his personal quarters, and now that five minutes was up. With hurried movements and shaking hands, he had swapped into a set of comfortable civilian robes, and jammed all of his personal effects into a bag, and now he was to leave.
The few crew members aboard the lucrehulk watched as Septu was escorted out, whispering excitedly among themselves. A new spot at the top of the fleet had opened up, and there would be a chance for a promotion soon.
Septu was unceremoniously shoved into cargo freighter, and not even given the dignity of returning to Neimoidia on a ship. Instead he was sent straight to Zygerria's surface, watching his fleet shrink away. He stewed in resentment and bitterness, cursing Grib Siv in his heart, right up until the moment a swarm of enemy fighters exited hyperspace.
Flashes of blue and red lit up the void as proton torpedoes ran uncontested straight into stationary targets. Septu watched, shocked, as the fleet didn't respond for almost five minutes, even as half a dozen ships burned. He didn't even know how long it was until at last someone started to scramble the vulture droids independently, and then finally the other lucrehulk captains followed suit in staggered and haphazard disarray.
Why did they take so long? Vice-Admiral Tonngrub should have been in charge, now that Septu was removed.
Then he blinked in shock, as a cold realization swept over him.
No one is in charge! Grib Siv had relieved him of duty before appointing a new commander, and now Tonngrub had been trying to wrestle control of the fleet from the commodores! Now battle was here, and the fleet had no commander.
Septu could only watch as the biggest military disaster the Galaxy had seen in a thousand years unfolded behind him. After a while, Septu couldn't help the smile that crept over his face as he sat down, and took out his personal compad.
Of course Grib was going to try and pin the blame on Septu, but the fool had cut off his own hand hours before battle and now anyone could see where the blood was coming from even if he hid the stump behind his back. Mere minutes before a major military engagement, Grib had fired his commanding officer and then failed to find a replacement. The whole Galaxy would see he had no one but himself to blame.
Instead of feeling despondent, or fearful, Septu was actually quite pleased. Only the Force knows what would have happened to him if he was still with the fleet when the Alliance arrived. He wasn't sure of his own ability to win a battle on a good day, but, with just a little spin, Septu could even position himself as the hero who tried to warn Grib about the state of the Zygerrian fleet.
Maybe his pension wouldn't be secured, but with a little work and some lucre grease applied to the right places, Septu might even be able to land in a senior position with the Neimoidian Home Defence Legions. This could even be the start of his own political career as a valiant reformer.
Going through his holocom contacts, Septu brought up a reporter he knew on Coruscant, smiling devilishly to himself. He pressed the dial, mumbling to himself. "I like profits, I want revenge, so why shouldn't I have both?"
...
AN :
Hey quick update.
Sorry for the delay. I've been reworking "Star Wars: Tanya the Evil" because the next arcs weren't hitting right. I'm not dropping it I just don't want to rush something mid.
In the meantime, I started a new fic I've had in mind for a year. I'll be updating both.
Also, I launched it on Patreon first two chapters are free if you want to check it out.
Name:
HOTD: Tanya the Evil
The Story:
Tanya is reborn as the daughter of Viserys Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Her existence alone starts shifting the timeline, blending "House of the Dragon" and "Fire & Blood" canon with some tweaks to keep things consistent.
...
If you want to read ahead of the public release you can join my patreon :
patreon.com/Rimanovi