"I dislike the concept of inevitability. It removes any agency from me deciding to become a worse person."
Of all the things to greet my task force as we reached Tython, I did not expect a burning space station to be one of them. I most certainly did not expect a Harrower-class cruiser to be one of them, either, especially not one partially obscured by the wrecked space station. I absolutely and completely did not expect half a dozen high-capacity freighter to be there, either.
Someone had made a bit of a mistake, it seemed.
All around me, in the void of space surrounding the Jedi Knight's Defender-class corvette, the other fourteen vessels of my task force scrambled into something resembling a combat formation. Of course, the crews were professionals, so it was only a matter of seconds, but it was still a surprise.
We should have arrived with a generous head-start, after all. That was why we had taken some less than public hyperspace-routes through the Deep Core to get to Tython.
Why the Hell was Darth Angral here ahead of us?
More importantly, how had Darth Angral gotten here with enough time to reduce the defenses of the Tython system to burning slag?
"Something's not right," the Jedi Knight muttered.
"Obviously," Natia commented. "That Harrower is showing us its stern. That is the exact wrong way to be positioned relative to an opposing force."
"It's not just that," he said softly. "There is something else here. Kira? Anything on comms?"
"More than expected," the Knight's padawan answered from her station. "I'm getting a lot of repeated messages on an open channel. Putting one through now."
"... Repeating. Escape pod 176 of Tython Orbital Station Requesting retrieval. Coordinates and trajectory is as follows…"
The transmission cut off sharply. The result of the Knight's padawan changing channels more than any outside interference, if I had to guess. Mostly because I had seen her hands move across her control board, even if I had no clue what the buttons did.
"Sensor sweep is showing a lot of emergency beacons," the padawan said.
"Open a channel to the rest of the fleet," I said. "We need them to know that there are escape pods out there."
"Don't tell me you're considering a rescue operation right this minute," Bybon said, his tone scathing.
"That would be suicide," I said, keeping my tone carefully neutral. "But I would rather prefer our shots don't take any innocent lives."
"Channel's open," the padawan announced, interrupting what might have very easily become an argument.
"Alderaanian fleet, this is Lord Nestor, head of the Varalica," I said into the comm channel connecting the task force. Six Thranta-class corvettes (of frigate weight), five Hammerhead-class cruisers (also of frigate weight), and a single Terminus-class destroyer (of cruiser weight) courtesy of the noble houses of Alderaan had accompanied me to the Deep Core. My personal freighter and the Jedi's corvette had acted as backup, all brought to Tython courtesy of an encrypted jump module created by the Jedi Knight's droid. "Be advised, there are escape pods in the area, so watch your firing solutions."
A ragged stream of acknowledgments, ranging from icily polite to textbook courtesy, came in.
"Lord Varalica, there are almost two hundred contacts between us and that Harrower," an anonymous voice put in. Well, not quite; there was a tag tying it to one of the ships in the fleet - in my fleet. The Vengeance of Trask, in fact. "We'd have to reposition if we want a clear shot."
"Then do so," I said. "That goes for all of you. There is too much in the way for us to get a clear shot. All ships, reposition to the side opposite that ruined station. Let's not give Darth Angral the benefit of cover."
"Oh, but I think you will," a voice without an identifying tag cut in. Raspy, thick with anger, and with the kind of tone that just oozed the idea that this person thought that they knew more than you. "But by all means, move your ships. It will give me more time to turn this one particular patch of Tython into a pile of fire, blood, and rubble."
"Darth Angral," the Jedi Knight said, identifying the voice. "You disappoint me. I thought your quarrel was with me, not with innocents."
"Oh, Monster. You got rid of the very concept of innocence in this fight when you murdered my son!"
"Lord Tarnis chose to face me in combat," the Jedi Knight answered calmly. "That he was unable to succeed was in no way my fault. Blame the man who trained him."
"Then I'm sure you wouldn't deny me the chance at vengeance?" Darth Angral asked. "Come aboard the Oppressor. We would be welcome to host you for the few minutes it would take me to cut you down."
If the goal was stalling for time, I would have applauded the Jedi. Unfortunately, stalling for time was not going to help us at all, unless we planned on spending several hours publicly hashing out the logistics of who would go where to get put down like a dog who had nibbled on one child too many. After all, the Republic reinforcements were not going to get here on time. If anyone was going to take out Darth Angral, it was going to be us.
"Why not do it on Tython?" was the Knight's response. "Don't you want to visit the ancestral home of the Jedi?"
"And let its filthy heritage pollute me? I think not," the Sith Lord scoffed. "That's why I've been bombarding it for the past… oh, thirty-one minutes and fifteen seconds. Seventeen seconds, now."
"Angral-" Whatever the Jedi Knight was planning to say was cut off by Angral's response.
"Twenty seconds."
"Darth Angral, I will be heading down to the surface," he said calmly. This time, there was no interruption. "If you would like the chance to collect my head then, feel free."
"Oh, please, head on down." Darth Angral's voice was full of vindictive joy. "I'm sure your friends at your academy would be happy to have your bones mix with theirs. I've been hard at work making a fitting tomb for them."
"What my friend means is that, if you are anything like that trash child of yours, you would meet him lightsaber to lightsaber," I cut into the conversation, purposefully choosing the words that I knew would push Darth Angral's buttons the most. All around the ship's cockpit, various eyes turned on me. Honestly, I wasn't sure why they were so surprised; just because I was a diplomat didn't mean I couldn't say or do incredibly stupid things.
"Excuse you?" If anything, the venom in Darth Angral's tone got even more intense. Good. If he got angry, he wouldn't think rationally and could be lured into something resembling a trap. To be on the other side of that little situation would be quite nice.
"Lord Tarnis, though he was a disappointing failure of a Sith, at least had the courage to meet the Jedi and fight him face-to-face. You, by contrast, seem content to throw a tantrum from the safety of a heavy cruiser behind a wall of hostages."
"Ah, the traitor," he said with a dark chuckle as his voice took on a gravelly timbre. "You have no idea how big a wall I have made."
"Lord Varalica, sensors report significant life signs aboard those freighters," one of the ships in my fleet reported. The Vengeance of Trask, again. How very kind of them to communicate so freely. "We can't get a solid count; They're packed too closely together."
"Noticed that, have you?" the voice of Darth Angral said with sadistic glee. "Yes, the Combine of Zyg was very accommodating. Slaves can be so cheap if you know what to look for. Feel free to reposition your ships. My cover will do likewise."
On the tactical display, the grimness of the situation finally sank in. A ruined space station to one side shielded the enemy ship's port. A flurry of escape pods made hitting the stern a tenuous proposition. Those were stationary and could be maneuvered around. The half dozen frigate-sized freighters currently protecting the heavy cruiser's starboard could be moved anywhere.
But I much preferred having my fleet try to shoot around three ships than six.
"Thranta-class frigates, reposition to fire at that Harrower's top side," I ordered, not caring that Darth Angral was listening in. A pincer maneuver hardly required secrecy to function. "Hammerhead-class and Terminus-class, reposition to fire at the Harrower's bottom side."
Words of acknowledgment drifted in, and I cut off the communication channel, reasonably pleased with myself.
"And us?" asked the padawan.
"We're also going around," the Jedi Knight said, gesturing towards the planet. "Around the ruined orbital and down to the surface. We're his priority target, and a Harrower is not designed to go after three different targets at the same time."
"Best case scenario, we lure him down," I said, nodding with agreement. The worst-case scenario was that they would just shoot us down, but there was no need to verbalize it.
"Why not just hang back and let our ships destroy theirs?" Razma asked.
"Because I want that Harrower reasonably intact," I explained, a grin spreading beneath my mask. "And I imagine the Republic would be amenable to that."
"You think the Republic would want a Sith Lord to recover a heavy cruiser?"
"Well, if we destroy it, we'll never find out how they got here so quickly," I pointed out. "And they are far more likely to surrender to a Sith Lord than a Republic Fleet. If they surrender to me, the crew gets to go home."
And if I recovered that Harrower, I was a lot more likely to avoid censure from Darth Lega. Heck, I might even be able to negotiate another promotion. Or I might just crash it into Kaas City and make a run for it. Eh, I'd figure it out.
...
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