**Chapter 507**
**Crimson Reckoning**
**Dagon POV**
**Valahari Orbit**
The battle was less a fight and more a slaughter.
I watched from the cockpit of my Skelter as the *Gray Wolf's* task force executed its maneuvers with cold precision. The ten Lancer-class frigates had formed a deadly screen, their quad laser cannons and missile batteries turning the sky into a graveyard of exploding Tempest Zero fighters. The advanced Valahari starfighters were fast and well-armed, but they were no match for coordinated anti-fighter fire from ships literally designed to shred starfighter swarms.
"Most of the enemy fighters are down," Fleet Admiral Kinaun reported calmly over comms. "Several disabled by ion cannons. Only the lead fighter and two wingmen remain."
I gripped the controls tighter. "Leave the leader to me."
I pushed the Skelter into a sharp climb, then executed a perfect cobra maneuver — bleeding speed dramatically while keeping altitude. The two escort fighters overshot me. I locked on and launched two missiles. Twin explosions lit up the void as both craft disintegrated.
The lead red Tempest Zero twisted violently, trying to shake me. Over the open channel came a furious voice:
"This isn't over, Republic dog! You will never win!"
*Tofen Vane.*
I increased thrust, closing the distance rapidly. At the last second, I ejected from the Skelter, activating the Mandalorian jetpack built into my armor. The booster roared as I shot forward like a missile, slamming onto the top of Tofen's fighter.
Using the Force to stabilize myself, I ignited my lightsaber and drove the blade straight down through the cockpit canopy. The red blade sliced cleanly through the control console, disabling the fighter's systems in one decisive strike.
"Still think we can't win?" I declared, my voice carrying over the emergency comm.
The disabled Tempest Zero tumbled slowly as tractor beams from the *Gray Wolf* locked on and began pulling it into the main hangar.
**Scene 2**
**Gray Wolf – Main Hangar Bay**
I stood on the deck as the captured fighter was gently lowered into place. Security teams and medical droids were already waiting. Puck, my reliable adjutant, stepped forward with a scanner.
"Puck, scan for any suicide pills, trackers, or hidden explosives. Then lock him in the high-security brig."
"Yes, sir."
I watched as the cockpit was pried open. Tofen Vane was dragged out, dazed but still glaring with pure hatred. He was young, proud, and burning with the fire of vengeance for his father. Two clones quickly secured his wrists.
Kinaun's voice came over the bridge comm, patched through to the hangar. "General, the fighters that engaged us are all destroyed or disabled. Several freighters were neutralized as well. The rest have retreated back to the surface."
"Any survivors?"
"We're bringing in three escape pods now, sir."
"Very well. Treat the wounded. No unnecessary cruelty."
I turned back toward the bridge lift, the weight of the battle settling on my shoulders. Another victory. Another step deeper into this war.
As I stepped onto the bridge, the main chrono display caught my eye:
**Second Week, First Month, Second Year of the Clone Wars.**
Time was moving faster than I liked.
Shin approached me quietly, placing a hand on my armored arm. "You okay?"
I nodded. "We have their leader. Now we see what Valahari does when cornered."
The girls gathered around me — Ahsoka, Zule, Flare, Kayla, Stella, Visenya, Erictia, and Aayla. Their presence grounded me.
Whatever came next — whether diplomacy, war, or something in between — we would face it together.