The Fall of Keltrayu/Part Two

At 6500 meters, the Sith Star was not a vessel for a wise enemy to take lightly. Built around the schematics of an ancient Sith war galleon, it had steadily incorporated pieces and designs of other starships over the decades, each of its owners adding weapons and armament along with touches of his or her own personality. It bristled with firepower and dominated the spacescape that was the Prime Fleet of the Golden Empire.

Or what was left of it.

A more careful observer would notice that the Star was not so much cruising as drifting along. Its complement of destroyers and cruisers hung almost crowdingly near, as if to best protect the flagship by taking fire meant for it. Even with its thousands of fighters on standby, the Fleet had only capital ships in view, not a single routine patrol deployed.

On the Star's bridge, the Legate Tariun Sakaros leaned against his command chair, too agitated to sit in it. Looking through the main viewport at what remained of his fleet, the dispirited Sith Lord couldn't help noticing all the flares of fire from ships which still hadn't been fully extinguished. Vacuum had put out most of them—along with the crews exposed to space—but a few were still being fed by exhaust or leaking chemicals faster than the vacuum could snuff them out.

"Lieutenant Vazz," he said dryly, trying to keep the weariness out of his tone. "Remind Captain La'l'atann that fuel is expensive and that the Salvatrix will perform much better for him when it isn't on fire."

"Yes, my lord."

The loss of Irestego had been a fiasco, and only Rin's Battle Meditation had kept the affair a dignified retreat instead of a calamitous rout. Not for the first time, Tariun wondered whether the fleet would even still exist at this point without her. But even Rin's powers had limits, and she could not draw blood from a stone.

"Where's Keltrayu?" Tariun asked aloud of no one in particular. He sensed his Massassi guards at the door reaching for their comlinks, but a female Iscali midshipman beat them to it.

"Last report has him in the war room, my lord."

"And my sister?"

"I don't know, my lord. Would you like me to find her?" She asked because, by now, the bridge crew had come to know the Sith's usual reply.

"I can find her more easily than you. Forget it." Straightening with a nod, Tariun glanced at the Massassi down among the crewers to his right. "The bridge is yours, Captain Zogryth. Continue damage control and check the repair priority list before it's approved.  We have more damaged vessels than we have parts for them."

"Understood, my lord." The enormous Massassi commander Zogryth, already a head taller than the other species he oversaw when he was bent over, stood to his full seven-and-a-half feet and saluted respectfully.

Tariun sighed internally as he turned toward the door. Zogryth was not just a talented warrior, but a true tactician. Descended from the stock Tariun's own uncle had bioengineered for greater intelligence and independence, Zogryth was the perfect combination of Massassi loyalty and devotion and tactical skill. If he led the Prime Fleet to its doom, at least they would take as many of the enemy with them as possible.

Tariun imagined the bridge in flames, monitors sparking and the transparisteel viewport starting to crack, with Zogryth standing stoically upon the command deck. The captain going down with his ship. The defiant sneer on his leathery lips and the proud, erect bearing even as the blast swallowed him.

A few more fights like Irestego and it might be reality.

Gritting his teeth, Tariun stormed from the bridge, impatiently waving off his guards as they made to follow. The dimly lit durasteel corridors of the Star seemed to mock the blackness of his mood and his diminishing faith in his ability to successfully prosecute this war. Just as bad, it was a constant reminder of the growing drain on resources; he had only a week before ordered lights dimmed on all the ships to save their generators some energy, and non-crucial areas in much of the fleet had been shut down entirely. With tibanna gas in increasingly short supply anyway, all priority was given to the guns and life support.

Just as bad as the gloomy hallway was the walk itself. Though the war room was closer to the command bridge than most of the rest of the ship, it was a long enough walk that Tariun had time to reflect on the fleet's failure at Irestego in intimate, infuriating detail. By the time he finally arrived, he stormed rather than walked through the door, expression menacing.

Keltrayu and Aquila Corcer both looked up, and their expressions were identically grim. Corcer's wings were folded back tightly, the joints draped over his shoulders. Strands of his hair, longer even than Keltrayu's, hung in his gray face, which was lined with weariness. He was squeezing his hands into fists and opening them again tensely, and every time he opened them, he extended his retractable claws. The look he gave Tariun was both commiserating and apologetic, as if he was willing to take the blame, far out of his control as the fight had been.

Keltrayu, by contrast, showed no emotion at all. He, too, met Tariun's gaze, stoically grim but composed and controlled. With the Battle of Irestego entirely in space, he had nothing to do but wait for it to be resolved. Tariun was no longer sure whether Keltrayu maintained his composure because he had unwavering faith in Rin's ability to pull another miracle out of her bag of tricks, or just because he had better control these days.

"We lost four capital ships," the Sith Lord snarled without preamble. "Four completely destroyed, plus almost a dozen barely fit for service."

"And Irestego," Keltrayu agreed darkly, as if any of them needed the reminder.

"First reports suggest at least a hundred thousand Eliasen managed to evacuate," Corcer offered, but his morose face sapped any encouragement out of the news. "They contacted us to thank the Queen."

"Find out if they brought any parts for a warship with them," Tariun replied sarcastically. He saw Keltrayu's eyes narrow critically, but at the moment it was hard to care what he said in front of Corcer. Polishing his words wasn't going to make the situation any brighter.

An uncomfortable silence held for a moment, then Keltrayu asked, "What are we going to do?"

They all looked at one another, but were spared the need to answer when the door opened again. Two weary-looking Iscali walked in; the shorter of the two gave Tariun and Keltrayu a salute, while the taller just met the Sith Lord's gaze grimly and moved to join them at the holotable in the center of the room.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Counter Admiral Sorvae offered. One of Rin's small admiralty, he had been Commander-in-Chief of the Iscali Exploratory Fleet before Iscandar joined the Empire. Relinquishing command, he had become a senior military advisor instead. Though he had never seen any wars of his own before joining the Empire, it was obvious that the dire situation wasn't going over his horned head.

"Admiral," Keltrayu returned, while Corcer bowed his head respectfully. But Tariun's eyes were on Kesanion, his flight suit still rumpled from his cockpit, and the tightness around his eyes and jawline gave Tariun the answer before the Iscali pilot even spoke.

"We lost two of mine," he said tightly, clearly working to keep his temper in check. "Roughly fifty casualties altogether."

Sorvae swallowed tensely; obviously the two Iscali had discussed the issue on the way up. Keltrayu sighed very quietly, but leaned his tall frame forward until his elbows were resting on the holotable's edge and set his forehead against his clasped fists. Tariun reached automatically for his Sith detachment, looking through the viewport in his mind at his anger and helpless frustration, drifting outside in the cold, sterile desert of space. Understanding his emotions didn't make them any better, but at least his voice was level when he spoke.

"Additional damage?"

Kesanion frowned. "Among the survivors? A few will need repairs before they can fly again.  And they'll need to be rearmed, most of them spent their torpedoes."

Taking a deep breath, Tariun replied, "You reminded them to—"

"—save their torpedoes until absolutely needed?" Kesanion finished, an edge in his voice now. "Yes, I did. Fifty dead, my lord.  I'm not going to micromanage their weapons use, I'm confident the situation was dire enough."

The two stared at each other across the holotable, eyes narrowed, but Tariun knew it would be useless to lash out at Kesanion. The man was the best fighter commander they had, and in truth, they shared the same despondent frustration. And it didn't help that even the three of them together and as much of a military force as they'd been able to muster had been unable to hold Kesanion's homeworld of Tershin.

Contenting himself with a cold nod back, Tariun stared at the map of the conflict hovering over the holotable's projection screen. The Empire's territory of gold dots was slowly shrinking; half a dozen gold dots already had the red coronas which represented Tetrarchy control. Next to the Empire's sphere of control, the sea of red dots that were Tetrarchy worlds looked like some amorphous beast ready to consume its smaller rival.

With a grimace, Tariun flicked his hands, and the projection rose from the table, spreading out in the air around the commanders. Highlighting Irestego's gold dot, he grudgingly shifted its orientation, and the red line demarcating Tetrarchy control expanded to gobble the planet up.

"If they keep this line, they'll cut us off from Yin and these others," Corcer pointed out, index finger tracing a line that would indeed bisect the Empire. The claw was still extended from his fingertip.

"If they have the intelligence to plan something like that," Sorvae added with determined optimism.

"We can't be sure they haven't taken prisoners," Kesanion remarked flatly. "Who knows what intelligence they have at this point."

The two Iscali and the Zaractok Centurion looked at Tariun and Keltrayu, but the Human was still resting his forehead on his fists. Feeling the mental weariness in the man who was as much his brother as any of his actual brothers had ever been, Tariun cleared his throat. When all eyes but Keltrayu's were on him, he said briskly, "We have to assume they have the intelligence for a strategy like that, and plan accordingly."

"And what is the plan?" Kesanion asked as the door opened behind him. He continued to look at Tariun for an answer, but the rest glanced at Tiro Maathkes and Sorgo Frud, two of the other leaders of Rin's High Commands. The Vuul Maathkes took a place beside Sorvae at the holotable, his facial eyes taking in the map above a small frown while his upper eyes glanced at everyone else. Frud stood beside Aquila Corcer, his blue-gray skin turning sickly green despite what Tariun could feel in the Force was an attempt to control his apprehension.

While the newcomers studied the holomap and Frud's color-changing skin turned progressively greener, Tariun flicked a finger at the intraship comm mounted to the wall. "Zogryth."

"Lord?" the Massassi's rumbling voice came back.

"Come down to the war room."

"I obey, Lord."

Shutting off the comlink, Tariun braced his hands on the edge of the holotable and looked at his commanders. "I want at least a semblance of a plan before Queen Rin gets here. Now, what can—"

"Too late," Keltrayu said quietly.

He picked up his head, looking at the wall, and as Tariun stretched out his senses he could feel his sister's approach. Her Force signature was as cold as ice, and even Tariun had to repress a shudder. He could picture the look of dangerous calm on her face, the ray shield of control that was the only thing keeping the lethal radiation of her power in check. Though he was sure they looked outwardly disciplined, Tariun could faintly feel the apprehension of the Massassi guards around her.

Silence reigned in the room until the door hissed open. Rin strode in alone, leaving her guards outside. Her sleeveless blue tunic was layered, and every hem was trimmed in gold. Her skirt hung to her calves, but Tariun could see the gleam of her combat-ready boots beneath. The gold of her circlet seemed bright against her red flesh and dark hair, but the gleam in her emerald-and-silver eyes was harrowing.

They all knelt, and Rin crossed the room briskly to stand between Tariun and Keltrayu. "Rise," she said. Her voice was perfectly level; Tariun wondered if only he caught the strain behind it until he saw Keltrayu's eyes linger on her just a second too long. "What's the situation?"

Tariun gestured to the holomap and quickly summarized the situation. Rin's followed his gestures without interruption and her expression did not change even slightly, but Tariun could sense her tension. He knew Keltrayu could as well, even without looking this time; the three of them had become so close these fourteen years that hiding their emotions from one another required effort. But neither man looked at the other, not wanting to betray their trepidation or Rin's to the others.

When Tariun finished, Rin continued to gaze at the holomap for a long moment. She reached out one hand, her fingers brushing through a swath of red-shaded gold dots; the planets lost to the Tetrarchy. The assembled commanders shifted uncomfortably, none of them daring to draw Rin's attention with a comment.

The door opened again, and Zogryth came through. Catching sight of Rin, he dropped to his hands and knees, pressing his face to the floor. "Goddess."

"Rise and report," Rin replied. "How many ships are still functional?"

The Massassi got up, towering over the tallest beings in the room. "Of the twenty-five capital ships that escaped Irestego, six will need serious repairs, and another five have enough damage that they will need shipyards," he said slowly, his Basic rough and heavily accented, but comprehensible. "I have called for reinforcements."

"How many in the entire Navy?" Rin asked Sorvae.

The Iscali admiral drew out his datapad, punching in the inquiry. Beside him, Tiro Maathkes continued to gaze at the holomap; Tariun wondered what his ponderously deliberative Vuul brain was cooking up. "Including the ships in this fleet, eighty-one, Your Majesty," Sorvae said. "That's capital craft, not including smaller interdiction and patrol vessels."

"Eighty-one," Rin repeated in a soft, dangerous voice. "Only eighty-one capital ships to conquer the Tetrarchy."

A few of the commanders looked surprised at the word, as if they had been on the defensive so long that they had forgotten any goal beyond survival. Tariun kept his face smooth and unreadable, but he sympathized. "We're trying to work out a strategy for that."

"And where are we with that goal?" Rin asked, just a hint of bite leaking into her voice.

"Examining the resources we have left," Tariun said quickly, before anyone had time to reflect on the change in her tone. Past her frustration with the situation and with her own brief falter, Tariun felt a flash of gratitude from his sister. "We still have Iscandar and the shipyards there. We have crews trying to scavenge resources from what's left of Yuclawav."

Rin nodded, but then looked suddenly across the table. "You have a strategy, Admiral Maathkes?"

The Vuul started, all four eyes widening as he looked at Rin. "I…the basic shell of one has presented itself to me," he hedged in his slow voice. "But the details will be of great complexity and require more careful analysis than I've yet—"

"Our Empire is hemorrhaging systems and soldiers, Admiral," Rin cut him off, and this time she made no effort to disguise the razors behind her voice. Maathkes blanched as she went on, "We have more commanders than you. Share your thoughts and let others fill in the gaps."

Swallowing uneasily, the admiral nodded and laid one long finger on the southern border of the Empire. "Centurion Corcer speculated that the enemy is pursuing a strategy aimed at bisecting the Empire, separating, for instance, Iscandar and Quadia from Yin and Keliso." Slowly, Maathkes manipulated the hologram to show that attack line, leaving two golden enclaves with a line of red between them. "It merely occurred to me that if we let them…"

"Let them?" Sorvae repeated incredulously.

"If we let them," Maathkes persisted, "they would be overextended. A strike at their point of departure from the Xoquon sector would then split their forces in two."

Rin looked down at the highlighted area, then back up. "That would require intentionally sacrificing Tantilore and Pughe, at a minimum."

"For an ultimate victory," Maathkes replied gravely.

Tariun studied the board again in the silence that followed. "If we diverted resources away from them," he mused, "we could concentrate our forces around Iscandar while our damaged ships are in drydock."

"Defenses would require strengthening on the separated systems," Zogryth put in.

Tariun caught the flare in Kesanion's mind before the Iscali spoke. "Are we actually considering this?" he demanded, sounding appalled. "How many more systems can we afford to just give up?"

"We haven't just given up any of them," Sorvae reminded him.

"But that's what we're discussing now, isn't it?" Kesanion pressed. "We let the Tetrarchy walk all over these worlds in hopes that maybe we can turn the tables?"

"We need to look at the whole map," Tariun said firmly, wishing Keltrayu or Rin would put in an opinion. He knew both of them had it in them to sacrifice people, ships, whole worlds if necessary; their silence was telling. "The Empire is more important than any component world."

"If we lose too many more worlds, there won't be an Empire," Sorgo Frud said.

Tariun shot him a grimace, but Kesanion added, "We need resources. Both of those worlds are major foodstuff producers.  The Armada can't fight if it can't eat."

"Theirs would be a temporary sacrifice," Maathkes said, a hint of frustration in his voice. Tariun knew he hated having to offer a plan he hadn't fully formulated, but Rin was right; there was no time for long deliberations in a war where the map changed every week. "A single major battle could break their morale and leave their invasion fleet exposed."

"A temporary sacrifice…like Tershin is a temporary sacrifice?" Kesanion said testily, and a ripple of unease passed through the group.

"We fought for Tershin," Tariun reminded him.

"And I want to see us still around to take it back!"

"Enough, Commander," Sorvae said. "Nothing more can be done for Tershin at this point."

"Says the Iscali from the homeworld, not the colony," Kesanion snarled back.

Tariun sensed their tempers coming to a head, but before either Iscali could snap off anything else, Keltrayu cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him, and he looked down at Rin. "Your Majesty, would they even take the bait?" He gestured at the map. "Is that their strategy, to cut us in half?"

Rin looked up at him, then fixed her eyes straight forward. They slid out of focus, as if she had fallen asleep with her eyes open, and the Force coiled around her. Knowing she had passed out of the present, flowing with the currents of time, Tariun crossed his arms and waited. Corcer studied her curiously, feeling the shift of her strength in the Force, but most of the others waited, tense and uneasy, for her verdict.

It was nearly three minutes before Rin blinked, shaking her head slightly as she came back to herself. "I don't think so," she said, frustration in her voice, distracted enough to slip out of the majestic plural. Tariun suspected the frustration came from inability to exactly see what was coming, rather than the failure of Maathkes's strategy. "They're interrogating prisoners from Tershin. Once they get coordinates for Iscandar, it will be their prime target."

A shiver ran around the circle. If the icy homeworld of the Iscali fell, the Empire was doomed, and they all knew it. The shipyards there were the only ones large enough to keep the Navy in some semblance of fighting trim. Kesanion looked at Sorvae, but had mastered himself enough not to say anything.

"A major victory," Keltrayu said into the silence. He raised his dark green eyes to Maathkes.

The Vuul frowned. "Sir?"

"That was the crux of your strategy. Bait them into overextension, then use a single victory hereabouts—" He pointed at the Tetrarchy's entrance point to the Romasi sector. "—to reverse our fortunes."

"Yes, sir."

Keltrayu shook his head. "It's too small a victory. It seems like something to us, to retake Tershin or Irestego or something else, but what is it to them?  They lose one system that wasn't theirs to begin with.  A victory for us is just a setback to them."

"There's something to be said for the morale victory," Sorvae put in. "Our people need reassurance that we can still win."

"No, Keltrayu's right," Tariun said. "Even if we retake one of our own and it's us chasing the Tetrarchy fleet instead of them chasing us, we're just buying time and trading systems."

"And hoping the Tetrarchy doesn't lose patience and send in reinforcements," Kesanion added. "It won't work."

"That victory won't work," Keltrayu corrected, brushing a lock of his unruly, sand-colored hair out of his face as he leaned forward.

"What will, Lord?" Zogryth asked. Though Keltrayu wasn't a Sith, the Massassi had taken to giving him the style too, and Rin had let it go.

"A better victory. One that hurts them and shakes their entire war effort." There was a new intensity on Keltrayu's tan face, his eyes narrowed in deep thought.

Tariun looked back down at the map, trying to follow his friend's line of thought. "If we want to shake them up, we'd have to hit them in their own territory. A major strike to throw them off balance."

"Isn't that what we tried at Hudrel?" Sorvae reminded them grimly.

Tariun and Keltrayu looked at each other over Rin's head. The catastrophe at Hudrel had cost them over a dozen capital ships, including the Star Destroyer Overlord, and the entire Empire had been on the defensive since, steadily losing ground and systems to the Tetrarchy counterattack. But Tariun could feel in Keltrayu's mind a mirror of his own knowledge that they were losing, and starting to lose badly. The time for desperate action had come.

"Not Hudrel," he said, looking back at the assembled leaders. "Nothing in the Mezlag sector, they'll have it too well defended now."

"Something in the Xoquon sector," Corcer offered. "It's close enough that we can strike without a long delay, and we know the territory well."

"We've already come and gone in the Xoquon sector," Maathkes pointed out.

"No planet we've taken before, either," Keltrayu agreed. "That's no better than retaking anything in the Romasi sector."

"A major victory to rattle their entire war effort," Tariun said, an idea slowly forming in his mind. His tactical brain tried to override it, but desperation pushed it through.

"We need resources, more ships and weapons, repairs for our own…" Keltrayu led off. They looked at one another again, and Tariun knew they had come up with the same plan, but it was Kesanion who dared to give it voice.

"Tizgo V."

Around the holotable, everyone looked back at the map, but Tariun looked at Rin. She had been silent a long time, which was never a good sign, but her eyes widened at Kesasnion's pronouncement. The Sith Lord continued to stare at his sister as debate broke out around them.

"That's suicide!"

"We need a victory—"

"Tizgo V won't be a victory, it'll be a slaughter!"

"It's the military depot of the Xoquon sector, they're launching their invasion from there."

"All the more reason to take it. Cut the head off the invasion."

"It's the best defended system in the entire sector! If we attack we'll be massacred."

"The goddess can triumph over any enemy."

"A battle like this will require more than just force of personality!"

Tariun glanced up, and Sorvae swallowed, his blue flesh paling slightly. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, I meant no offense."

"No," Rin finally spoke. "You're correct, Admiral. Such a strike would be a terrible risk, and require perfect coordination and timing as well as the Force.  Failure would destroy the Empire in a single battle."

The commanders shuffled uncomfortably, but Keltrayu said, "My lady, we're already fighting a war of attrition. If we lose too many more ships, we won't have enough of a fleet to counterattack anywhere, ever."

"A slow grinding to death," Tariun agreed.

"Tizgo V could be a quick butchering instead," Frud warned.

They all looked at Rin, and she shook her head. "This…the risk of this plan…"

Tariun sensed Keltrayu communicating with Rin in the Force. He missed whatever was said, but she glanced at him briefly before looking at the map again. "We need time to think," she announced, drawing herself back up. "Excuse us, gentlemen."

She was using the majestic plural, but as she headed to the door, Keltrayu was only a step behind. Looking around at the apprehensive leaders of the Empire's war effort, Tariun said quietly, "Analyze our resources and figure out how we can make this happen. Catalogue any ship that can help.  Every ship, fighter, and soldier in the Empire.  I don't care if it's a tender ship we use to scrub carbon scoring off real warships, if we can mount guns on it, I want it included in the estimate."

Leaving the chorus of acknowledgments behind him, Tariun stepped from the room into the darkened hallway, following the Force in pursuit of Keltrayu and Rin.