The Liberator/Part 2

36 Days Before the Liberation of Milagro

"General Darakhan, holo for you from Corellia."

A few beings on the bridge tried not to look like they were listening in. Mali Darakhan smiled and said, "I'll take it in my quarters. Bridge is yours, Captain."

"Aye aye, sir," Captain Londenau replied.

Mali turned to go, but in his head he reflected on General Darakhan. When, he wondered, had that stopped giving him pause and become more natural than Master Jedi, or even Mali? Somewhere along the way, amidst the endless give-and-take of the northern campaign against Valin Aresh, the rank had settled on him and become part of who he was, and now he carried on without a change of pace.

Even on a destroyer the size of the Coronet's Jewel, flag officers' quarters were generous without being spacious; Mali had his bedchamber and refresher, a small study with a private holo transceiver and tactical suite, and that was about it. Aldayr had smaller quarters next door, though Mali sensed his apprentice wasn't inside. When, as now, the Jewel and the rest of Mali's fleet was between battles, Aldayr spent much of his time on fitness, further mechanical study of his fighters, and sparring with any other Jedi who happened to be aboard.

Sometimes Mali missed the old missions, when it had been just the two of them facing the galaxy's perils, but at this moment Aldayr's absence was probably best. Mali had directed the communication to his quarters for extra privacy; nine times out of ten he would take calls in the main deck comms suite or even on the bridge, but messages from Corellia were usually a touch more personal.

He closed the door behind him, toggled the switches on his holo transceiver, and was rewarded with an image of a Human man in his mid-fifties. His hair, swept back just enough to not be messy, was still iron gray, though his close-trimmed beard and mustache were closer to white. Mali could tell as much just by the way the monochrome holo darkened or lightened, though that azure blue was pretty true to life when it came to his eyes; their slight tightness spoke of an adventurous spirit and boundless gallantry now constrained by the wisdom of experience. The holo's blue tint would've left another observer to guess the color of the man's Jedi robe, but Mali knew it was, like his, Corellian green.

He bowed. "Master."

"Hello Mali," said Ainar Zylorus. "You look well."

"I'm in my element, Master," Mali answered, and Ainar laughed.

"I can't deny that. I hear optimistic things about your progress in the north."

"It's early yet," Mali cautioned. Then his bobbed his head left and right before adding, "But there are hopeful signs."

"Do you think you'll be able to force the engagement with Aresh?"

"I'd settle for Seldec. If we can kill him, even capture him, it'll force Aresh to take the battlefront command full-time.  He might delegate to Seldec, but he'll never trust anyone else with the whole theater of war.  Not with things this much in flux."

"That's true." A wistful look touched Ainar's face. "He's a skillful swordsman, Mali. Seldec, I mean, though I'm sure Aresh is as well.  He was always a cut above the average, if you'll forgive the pun, even when we were young, and now he's got whatever tools Aresh has given him as well."

It wasn't the first time Ainar had shared the observation, but the gravity in his former master's voice piqued Mali's curiosity. "You think I can't take him?"

"On the contrary; you're one of the finest swordsmen of your age I've ever seen, and you're still young, where Eviar and I, er…aren't." He chuckled once, but then grew serious. "In a perfect world, I think Eviar would be no match for you, but the world isn't perfect, and he's lethal. Don't be cautious—that's wasted on you—but don't be reckless, either."

There was hard-learned experience in there, Mali thought, and he took it to heart. "Yes Master."

Ainar frowned with one side of his mouth. "Eviar was a good man once, but now…the sooner you get rid of him, the better."

Mali frowned too. There was something more than a desire to see Valin Aresh account for his many sins in this. "And not just because stopping fallen-Jedi-turned-Sith-Apprentices is good in itself, I'm guessing…"

Ainar narrowed his eyes. "You haven't heard?"

Mali didn't bother answering; instead, he flicked a hand at his tactical suite and called up a feed of data. Pulling the input console over, he widened its focus from the northern campaign to the entire galaxy, scrolling down a compiled list of data from Republic Intelligence, Navy Intelligence, and the various secret discoveries of the Jedi Knights that only he, as a Jedi General, could access.

He did not have to scroll far.

Mali sat back in his chair, his face frozen with whatever expression it had been wearing while his mind struggled to process all the implications, and he said, "Damn."

"Yeah," Ainar commiserated. "The news came in…well, it's early morning here now, so last night. The Diktat's Council was in emergency session all night; I just left an hour ago."

"What're they going to do?"

"I don't know—they don't even know yet—but they have to do something. The Diktat drew a line in the sand, and it's been crossed.  If nothing is done now, we'll have the barbarians at the gates."

Mali had no need to imagine the scenes—blood and screams in the streets of Coronet City, capital of Corellia; the Five Brothers on fire; a knife driven into the heart of the Core Worlds—because he'd had ample time to envision this fallout before. Since Gamor, he might've said, though since Milagro was more truthful. There, he had beheld the enemy's war machine for himself and understood his Jedi strike team to be little more than delaying harassment, a gadfly on a gundark's flank. Even the death of Darth Vaszas—a victory, Mali remembered, which had been achieved by a Jedi Master no longer available for the field—had amounted to little more than an annoyance. But it was clear that momentary inconvenience had been overcome.

After a year of worries, after months of threats and tension and will she or won't she?, she finally had. Vedya Gasald had conquered the Allanteen system, seizing Allanteen Six and its crucial shipyards. Mali had brooded over this possibility long enough that he knew the details by heart without even a glance at his tacmap. Once she engorged her fleet, all that lay in Gasald's path on the Corellian Run were the trade world of Tlactehon, which she could steamroll as easily as she had Gamor, and the spit of desert that was Rhommamool, which she would probably ignore entirely. And then Gasald, like Darth Saleej, would be in the Inner Rim, on a straight path to Corellia just as Aresh and Saleej were drawing the Republic's reinforcements in the other direction.

Mali ran a hand over his bearded jaw as he returned his gaze to his former master. "What do you think the Diktat will do?"

Ainar considered it. "He has to act. The news just came in last night, so there hasn't been time for it to spread, but I'm sure Coronet City will feel very different in six hours than it does now.  Will the Republic commit more forces to the southern campaign, or mass for a decisive challenge?"

"You might know better than me," Mali admitted. "Is Senator Rose there?"

"The Diktat summoned her back as soon as we got word about Allanteen; she'll be here in a few hours. Though when it comes to know Jendaya Rose's mind," Ainar continued, and Mali was amazed to see a smirk touching the older man's lips, "I'd think you'd be more of an expert than me."

Mali cleared his throat. "Ahh, well…yeah. Well, we never really spent much time talking shop, and I haven't talked to her since I left Coruscant last.  You know, when Corellia wanted to pick the next Supreme Chancellor."

His voice ended on a sour note Ainar didn't miss. "A Supreme Chancellor Corellia didn't get."

"Serves them right," Mali growled. "Do you have any idea how humiliating it was for me to go before the High Council and—"

"I do," Ainar cut him off, looking sympathetic. "I really do, Mali. I told the Diktat it was a bad idea then.  Tyson had to support it, because if it had worked it would've been a blessing for Corellia, but even he looked like he was having second thoughts."

Tyson Dumiel, Mali thought with a touch of unease. The disaffected Jedi Master would surely seize on this latest crisis as evidence to support his restoration of the Corellian Jedi, and after Master Kirthi's death fighting Vandak, the Five Brothers had lost an influential voice for the Republic's side.

"We have to act soon, or lose the chance," Ainar added.

"'We'?" Mali repeated. When Ainar said nothing, frowning, Mali's eyes narrowed, "Master, don't tell me you're a believer now."

"I'm a Corellian," Ainar answered. He took his time before he spoke again. "First it was Milagro. But that was all right, Milagro was just a production and refinement center.  Then it was Gamor.  But that was all right too, Gamor's just a spot on the hyperlane, just a stepping stone.  Now it's Allanteen.  Is it 'just' shipyards?  'Just' a chance to turn those resources into a concrete threat?  And even if it is, Mali, how many more 'justs' do we get before she amasses too much power to be stopped?"

Mali blew out a breath and leaned back. "I know. I get it, Master, I do.  I love Corellia, and I don't want to see her harmed."

"I know that, Mali," Ainar assured him. "And I've made sure that no one else forgets it, either."

What was that about? Mali was afraid to ask. He sat in silence, wondering how he could un-kark this situation before it spiraled into disaster.

When half a minute had passed, Ainar said, "I need to meet with the Selonian authorities; they're sending someone over. I'll contact you if I—"

"Wait."

Ainar's blue-white holographic brows rose.

"What if…what if Gasald wasn't a threat?"

"Please don't tell me you're going to try to assassinate her again."

"No. No, that's not what…"  Mali's mind was racing. "Just say she wasn't a threat. Is Corellia bound and determined to go its own way now, whatever happens, or…?"

Ainar crossed his arms. "The problem is the threat posed to Corellian security," he said slowly. "If that immediate threat disappears, Corellia is in a better position to provide support to the Republic's other campaigns. Mali, what—?"

"Just…buy me some time, would you?"

"With the Diktat?"

"The Diktat, Admiral Dorr…whoever you can get to listen. Don't let Master Dumiel run roughshod over the Security Committee."

The holo turned Ainar's snort into a buzz as he crossed his arms. "I know that look. You've got some half-thought-out plan to ride to the rescue, don't you?"

Mali summoned up his winningest smile. "I promise by the time I pitch it to the Diktat, it'll be at least three-quarters thought out."

Ainar stared him down while Mali beamed…and after a moment the older Jedi laughed. "All right. I'll see what I can do, but whatever you're plotting, make it good."

"Yes Master. May the Force be with you."

"And also with you."

Mali smiled until the hologram of his old master derezzed, but once the holoprojector's hum had silenced, he sat back in his chair, thinking hard. His instinct was to call up the Valor at once…but the nagging part of his mind that sounded eerily like Tirien Kal-Di restrained him. Or perhaps he was just remembering Tirien's voice; Mali had led a team to Milagro with little more than a general plan and good intentions, and all he had to show for it was a dead Sith Lord (two now, if one counted Vandak, but Mali could hardly claim anything but an incidental role in that saga), a rebel group with a pronounced anti-Jedi faction, and a legendary Jedi Master who would likely never be fit for the field again. A Jedi might be forgiven a mistake, but not for failing to learn from it.

Rising from his chair, Mali tapped the comlink on his wrist. "Aldayr."

"Yes, Master?"

"Bring Captain Londenau and Commander Haibrani to the strategy room. Grab somebody from RI too."

"Yes, Master."

Mali's quarters weren't far from the bridge, but they were all waiting for him by the time he arrived. The two Navy officers and the Republic Intelligence agent rose as Mali entered; Aldayr was already standing at parade rest behind his own seat at Mali's left hand.

"Sit, sit," Mali said, waving them down. "Commander Haibrani, give us a tacmap on the Corellian Run."

"Sir?" she asked, frowning. When he nodded, though, she pulled up the galaxy, then zoomed in to the southern galaxy, highlighting the Corellian Run.

"Gasald has taken Allanteen," Mali announced. Aldayr started and Captain Londenau's mouth made a grim slash across his face, but Mali was pleased when he sensed no surprise from his Intelligence people. "What do we know?"

"Initial reports are sketchy, sir…" said Fra Braab, the Gran Republic Intelligence agent, as he scrolled through the data, "…but what we have suggests she took a bruising. Allanteen's defensive fleet wasn't much more than a task force, but she couldn't risk damaging the shipyards."

"But if she took them intact, they'll be able to patch her up that much sooner," Aldayr fumed. Mali recognized the intense look on his Padawan's face and knew the implications of this latest setback weren't lost on Aldayr either.

"And from there she blows through the rest of the Expansion Region and takes Denon," Captain Londenau growled. The middle-aged Corellian who commanded Mali's flagship, Kento Londenau still bore scars from an explosion that had hit his corvette early in his career and torn off half of his shoulder. His uniform had been adapted to allow access to the cybernetic control panel embedded in his chest, and he had only one eye left, but none of his experiences had affected his quick mind. "And then—"

"Denon, Byblos, Loronar…" Mali recited. "Yeah, I know. What do we know about this fleet of hers?"

Lieutenant Commander Haibrani and Fra Braab looked at one another. "Not much new, sir," Braab said. "Headed by the Kiss of Death—"

"How many ships?"

"At least a thousand in the main battle fleet alone, plus thousands more spread throughout her territory."

Mali whistled. "And with the one-and-a-half rule of thumb, we're talking no fewer than fifteen hundred to take her head-on."

The Intelligence officers traded glances; Captain Londenau and Aldayr didn't look away from Mali, but their eyes narrowed, and Aldayr asked, "Head-on? Why are we talking about Gasald, Master?  We've got our hands full up here."

"Indulge me," Mali said. "Look at the tac map. If you didn't have fifteen hundred ships to throw at her, how do you hamstring the threat to the Corellian sector?"

They all looked at the map. Captain Londenau crossed his arms. "How brave are we willing to be, sir?"

"Nothing in the Outer Rim," Mali said. "Too easy to be cut off."

"And draw down Lord Osydro to her aid," Captain Londenau agreed.

"New Cov has major biomolecule production, sir," Braab said; the Gran had returned all three of his eyestalks to his datapad. "And Druckenwell's an economic center for that part of the Run."

"Are we just picking targets from the Run?" asked Aldayr. "Just launch from Denon and stop wherever we want to?"

He was looking at Mali, but his dark blue eyes showed he knew the answer, and they looked at Commander Haibrani in unison.

"Navy Intelligence has sent probe droids to most of the key Sith systems," she reported. "Intel's better in some places than others, but we can't get much down the Run unless we send it from way south."

"Out of the Seventy-Second?"

"Yes sir."

"Where Narasi and Tirien are?" Aldayr asked.

Mali nodded, raising an eyebrow. "You were going to make a point about the Run…?"

Aldayr shook his head, refocusing and pointing. "If they're coming from the Seventy-Second, they must be using the Enarc Run out of Pax, avoiding the Corellian Run. If we can't get deep down the Run itself, I think Gasald's using interdiction."

"Expensive proposition," Captain Londenau said. "I'd give…well, maybe not my other eye, but quite a bit for an interdictor ship or two up here, but the Navy can't afford them."

"Some of those materials from New Cov and other outlying systems are critical for production of the interdiction technology," Braab offered. "Seize that, even raid it, and we could amass enough to reduce the price."

Mali waved a hand. "Duplicating the technology can wait, I'm more concerned with the risk to us right now."

"If she's deploying interdictor ships on the Corellian Run, they'll pull a whole battle fleet out of hyperspace," Commander Haibrani warned. "Even if it's an outlying system and you can blast your way through, they'll still get warning to Gasald first."

"At a guess, I'd say she's using gravity mines, not ships," Mali said. "Cheaper to manufacture, and she's taking her time enough that she won't care about delaying her people. But it comes to the same thing."

"So any system we assault, we'll need a back way to get there," Aldayr concluded. "Unless it's Allanteen."

As the other three nodded thoughtfully, Mali gave his apprentice a nod and an encouraging smile, and one corner of Aldayr's mouth turned up in answer.

"Milagro," Commander Haibrani said.

They all looked at her, and she regarded each in turn. She wore her cinnamon hair in a three-point odango, one bun at the top of her head and one on either side above her ears. With a mixed-species Navy struggling against too many threats, Mali had not combatted the rumor that General Darakhan cared more about results than strict adherence to the dress code; it had produced a loyal crew with high esprit de corps, but some interesting side effects.

"Milagro," she repeated. "We could jump off Pax, come up the Enarc Run to where it connects with the Harrin Trade Corridor, and blindside Gasald. And Milagro's a major manufacturing world that turns out the components that go into ships.  It doesn't matter if she has shipyards if she doesn't have the materiel for ships."

Captain Londenau and Fra Braab looked back at the tacmap, but Aldayr's smile faded, his eyes growing distant. Mali sympathized, but he was relieved to have someone at the table say it before he did. "Agent Braab? What are we looking at on defense?"

The Gotal shook his head. "I'll have to consult the database, sir, but I'd guess she has enough to discourage anything less than a war fleet. That said, most of her heavy hitters will be with her at Allanteen—she can't afford to lose it after how long it took to get it."

Mali thought for a moment, then said, "Captain, we're going to leave the bridge with the officer of the deck for now. Agent Braab, let's dig into that database.  I want at least the skeleton of a plan by tomorrow, team."

More than once Mali appreciated the irony of echoing the Diktat's Council on Corellia as his team worked the rest of the day and well into the night, poring over Intelligence reports, bringing in droids to sort through large quantities of data, pulling every file they could remotely access on the Army, Navy, Marines, and even Jedi. In the end Aldayr was leaning hard on the Force to stay sharp, all three of Fra Braab's eyestalks were drooping, and even Mali had to stifle a yawn in his elbow, but he managed, "Well done. All of you, really well done, and on very little notice."

"What now, sir?" asked Captain Londenau; he was the only one among them without a bleary eye.

"Well, I don't know about Aldayr, but I'm going to take a nap," Mali said. "Arrange a shuttle for me at 1000. You'll have the fleet until Aldayr and I get back."

"Aye aye, sir."

Aldayr blinked and focused on him. "Where are we going, Master?"

"In times of trial like this, Aldayr, I think of the effect news like Allanteen must be having on our fellow Corellians back home. Don't you?"

After a moment Aldayr took the hint; his face hardened and he nodded. "I do, Master."

"And does it occur to you as it does to me, my young Padawan, that in such troubled times—"

"—people look to their heroes for comfort and encouragement?"

"Exactly."

"And it's easier to comfort and encourage them—and keep them from doing anything stupid—when we're actually there?"

"…maybe not as delicate as I would've phrased it, but sure, let's go with that."

Aldayr smirked. "Home again, home again…"