The ionized atmosphere of Anaxes was a bruised purple, choked with the soot of a thousand falling droids and the shimmering static of decaying planetary shields. As the second half of the second week of Month 11, 20 BBY commenced, the "Defender of the Core" was finally beginning to breathe again. The Separatist stranglehold had been cut at the neck when Admiral Trench's flagship was vaporized, leaving the remaining CIS fleet a headless, thrashing beast.
High above the primary shipyards, the 596th 'Maverick's Roughnecks' fleet sat like an unyielding wall of durasteel and Kyber-light. The Sovereign's Grace, the Uprising, and the Phoenix maintained a tight triangular formation, their 2x Dreadnought shielding absorbing the desperate, uncoordinated fire of the remaining Munificent-class frigates.
The Orbital Clean-up: Kaine's Final Symphony
Admiral Kaine stood on the bridge of the flagship, his eyes tracking the chaotic drift of the Separatist remnants. Beside him, Vice Admirals Lara and Spock coordinated the final broadsides.
"They have no central logic," Spock noted, his voice a cool anchor. "The droids are operating on local sub-routines. Efficiency has dropped by sixty-eight percent."
"Then finish it," Kaine commanded. "Launch the remaining 240 Y-Wing Bombers. Focus on their thruster arrays. I want them disabled and drifting, not vaporized. We have a lot of salvage to process for the Maverick Trust."
The 596th didn't just win; they audited. Every disabled ship was a future asset, every captured crate of rations a deposit into the Clone Retirement Trust.
The Ground Offensive: Anakin and the Roughnecks
On the surface, the ground war was a masterclass in aggressive stabilization. Revan Shan had officially handed command of the main planetary sweep to Anakin Skywalker, a move that had raised several eyebrows at GAR High Command.
"Anakin," Revan had said before departing for his "Order stuff," his voice carrying that cheeky, Doctor-ish lilt. "I'm letting you borrow my boys. They're dechipped, they're free, and they've been trained by a man with fifteen doctorates. If you bring them back with so much as a scratch on their Beskar pauldrons, I will personally recalibrate your prosthetic arm to only make tea. Very poorly."
Anakin had laughed, though the weight of the responsibility was clear. "I'll bring them back, Revan. Just make sure your 'Order stuff' doesn't involve starting another war."
Leading from the absolute front, Anakin pushed the 63,100 Clone Troopers and the 400 AT-TE walkers through the Separatist trenches. Commander Check and Commander Ruff operated as the tactical stabilizers, ensuring that Anakin's impulsive brilliance was backed by the disciplined "Maverick" maneuvers.
* The ARC Strike: ARC Trooper Captains Fives and Tup led the 120 ARC Troopers in a series of HALO drops onto the primary power hubs. Without their inhibitor chips, Fives and Tup moved with a level of tactical creativity that stunned the Separatist droids. They didn't just blow up the hubs; they used localized EMP snares to disable the security grids, preserving the infrastructure for Republic use.
* Air Support: The sky was a canopy of red and black as Z-95 Headhunters provided surgical strafing runs. Under Anakin's direction, the air support focused on the heavy spider droids and AAT tanks, clearing the path for the infantry sweeps.
"Secure the perimeter! Door to door!" Fives barked over the comms, his voice full of a new, grounded clarity. "Check your corners! Remember what the General said: Kindness to the civilians, scrap metal for the droids!"
Side-Mission: The Fox and the Physicist
While Anaxes burned toward victory, a ghost-ship glided through the outer rim of the Vallt system. The Fondor Haulcraft Ghost, its Stygium stealth array at maximum output, landed silently on a remote research outpost nestled in a crystalline canyon.
Revan Shan stepped off the ramp, but he wasn't the Jedi Master of the 596th. He wore his deep black hood and the porcelain Fox mask—the white-and-red visage that had become a legend in the galaxy's darker corners. He carried his twin Westar 35s and his modified slugthrower rifle, a shadow in the night.
Inside the research facility, Galen Erso was hunched over a holographic display, his brow furrowed as he stared at a series of complex Kyber refraction equations.
"The energy yield doesn't stabilize," Galen muttered to himself. "If the Kyber lattice is forced into a D-harmonic state, the feedback loop—"
"Will result in a localized supernova," the Fox's voice rasped, electronically distorted.
Galen jumped, nearly knocking over his data-pad. He looked up to see the masked figure leaning against the doorway. "Who are you? The guards—"
"The guards are currently taking a very deep sleep, Galen," the Fox said, stepping into the light. "And the ten HK-51s I left you are currently 'rearranging' the surveillance feeds to show you working diligently on a very different project."
Revan knew that Palpatine and Dooku were already closing in on Erso's research. He had sensed the dark side tendrils reaching for the brilliant physicist.
"Your research into Kyber focusing is too perfect, Galen," the Fox said, pulling out his Sonic Screwdriver. "It's a blueprint for a world-killer. And since I'm a man who prefers his worlds un-killed, we're going to help you 'misplace' some data."
Revan didn't just delete files. He used his Kyber-Quantum informatics knowledge to introduce a subtle, mathematical "drift" into the core equations.
> The Sabotage Formula:
> To an outside observer like Dooku or Krennic, the math would look sound. But at high energy outputs, the Sabotage Constant (S_c) would trigger a false-flag stability warning, forcing the research to halt for "recalibration" indefinitely.
>
>
"There," the Fox said, clicking the screwdriver shut. "Your primary data-set is now a circular logic loop. To the Chancellor, it will look like you've hit a wall. To you, it's a shield."
Galen looked at the masked figure, a mix of fear and realization in his eyes. "You're... you're working with Dr. Smith, aren't you?"
"I am the kindness that the Doctor cannot afford to show," the Fox replied, turning back toward the door. "Stay safe, Galen. Keep Lyra close. The HKs will stay. If anyone comes looking for this data who isn't wearing a porcelain mask... let the droids handle the 'audit'."
The Fate of the Harch
Back on Anaxes, the battle was over. The shipyards were secure, and the Separatist forces had either been scrapped or were in full retreat.
Inside the high-security detention block of the Sovereign's Grace, Admiral Trench sat in a localized stasis field. His six arms were restrained, his mandibles clicking in a rhythmic pulse of agitation.
"Master Shan," Trench rasped as Revan entered the cell, now back in his Jedi robes. "You... you are a variable I failed to calculate."
"That's because I'm not part of the equation, Admiral," Revan said, popping a lemon candy. "I'm the one who writes the math. You're being transferred to Coruscant tonight. The GAR is very excited to talk to you. I believe Admiral Yularen has a very long list of questions about your shipping routes."
Trench's eyes narrowed. "The war... it does not end with Anaxes. My Master—"
"Your Master is a gardener who thinks he can control the wind," Revan cut him off. "Try to be nice, Admiral. But you failed to be kind to the people of this sector. And now, the bill has come due."
Conclusion: Month 11, 20 BBY
As the eleventh month of 20 BBY drew to a close, Revan Shan stood on the observation deck of the Black Pearl, looking at the fleet's formation. Anaxes was a victory that would resonate through the Republic, but for Revan, it was just another step in the "Big Short."
"Cortana, status on the Maverick Trust?"
"The Anaxes victory has triggered a 12\% drop in Techno Union stock, Master," the AI reported. "Our short position is already beginning to gain massive traction. The collateral is secure, and the 1,000 shell companies remain untraceable."
"Good," Revan whispered. "One month left in 20 BBY. Then comes 19. The year the music stops."
He looked at the Darksaber and the Original Mask in the Beskar safe. He felt the weight of his 136 years, but he also felt the thrill of the loot.
"Next stop," Revan mused. "Maybe I'll go visit Maz Kanata. I have a feeling she's found something interesting in her basement. And besides, I owe her a decent bottle of Corellian wine."
The adventure continued, one audited empire at a time.
| Current Statistics: Month 11, 20 BBY | Value |
|---|---|
| Maverick Trust Credits | 8.1 Trillion |
| Short Position Profit (Current) | +45 Billion (Unrealized) |
| Erso Data Status | Sabotaged / Looped |
| Anaxes Status | Liberated / Republic Shipyards Active |
| Revan's Mood | Prophetically Triumphant |