The shuttle departing from Coruscant smoothly entered the atmosphere of Rendili. Through the viewport, the outlines of the sector capital's military base gradually came into view.
Neatly arranged clone barracks, warships docked in the harbor, and transports shuttling back and forth—all exuded a palpable tension.
Solo leaned back in his seat, his mind repeatedly replaying his conversation with Master Yoda and the Council's mission briefing for Jabim.
"Master, you seem troubled," Ahsoka said, her voice tinged with concern as she sat beside him.
She could sense the fluctuation of the Force within Solo, a newfound gravity compared to their time in the Thousand Springs Chamber.
"It's nothing," Solo replied, opening his eyes and looking at his apprentice. "I'm just thinking about the situation on Jabim. It's more complicated than we imagined."
He said no more, his gaze returning to the scene outside the shuttle.
The shuttle slowly touched down on Sector Command's dedicated landing pad. As the cabin door opened, a cold wind blasted their faces.
The two men strode into the Command Center Building. The corridors buzzed with activity, bustling with busy officers and clone trooper communicators. Holographic displays scrolled with frontline reports, and the urgent sound of hurried footsteps and communicator calls created a tense atmosphere, even more so than when they had left.
Just as they reached the conference room door, Solo's data pad chimed with an encrypted message.
"General Viktor," a familiar voice called out. Governor Terben stood at the door, flanked by several Sector Army officers. "You're finally back! We've received the Council's directive!"
"Governor," Solo nodded in greeting, glancing sideways at the others in the room. Some were hunched over their data pads, checking information; others whispered about tactics; and a few officers awaiting the report fixed their eyes on them, clearly having been waiting for some time. "The Republic should have intervened in Jabim long ago. Now that they've finally found a pretext, they've missed the best opportunity. All we have left is to clean up the mess created by politicians' empty promises."
As soon as he finished speaking, Governor Terben's data pad also chimed with an incoming message, drawing his attention away.
Seizing the opportunity, Solo retreated to a corner of the conference room to review his documents.
The first was an official order from the Jedi Council, its efficiency astonishing.
If the bureaucratic jargon were translated into plain language, the core directive boiled down to a single sentence:
Jedi Knight Solo Victor will lead a force to land on Jabim, support the local resistance movement, and at all costs disrupt the Separatists' mining operations, bringing the mines under Republic control.
Why not just blow up the mines? Solo couldn't help but grumble inwardly.
But who would turn down such an easy advantage?
Still, destroying the locals' sole source of income would surely incite retaliation.
Moreover, he had to prepare a landing site for the main forces expected to arrive in two to three weeks.
Damn it!
Whether they could even survive that long was uncertain. Did no one care?
The second document was a commission granting Solo full authority to execute the mission with utmost speed—a "special circumstances" exemption, in plain terms.
But in this situation, the authority was largely useless. He couldn't requisition external manpower; at most, he could secure the necessary supplies for the Legion.
Solo didn't need external forces; just managing his existing troops would be challenging enough. This piece of paper was barely more than a consolation prize.
The third document was an intelligence summary, containing a rough map of the terrain, an overview of the planet, and information about the local population.
Solo quickly skimmed it, getting a general idea. The planet had a population of about 100 million, with aliens making up less than one-thousandth of the total—practically negligible.
Around 20 million people lived in cities, while the rest resided in villages or worker towns.
Jabim had a mining history stretching back three thousand years, and "Jabim ore" was a recognized term. The newly discovered ore deposits were buried deeper, near the planet's core, but this posed no particular challenge to the locals.
The reason these ores had only just been discovered was simply that mining had only recently reached this depth.
The fourth document was short, containing only two pieces of information:
First, an elite strike squad led by an Alpha-class clone would be under his command.
Second, a cargo convoy would arrive at Lantilles in a few hours, carrying samples of new technology and sector supplies. Solo would have priority access to these resources.
Don't tell me they're trying to foist those "fake AT-ATs" on me?
Solo thought, These early model armors are too thin and too short. They're far inferior to the Empire's versions.
But we can take all the AT-XTs. They're decent equipment.
He closed the data pad, his brow furrowed.
He reviewed the situation:
Jabim, a small planet in the Outer Rim.
The natives are extremely hostile, with over seventy percent of the population supporting Stratus's nationalist movement.
Their leader is a military genius, seamlessly combining positional warfare with guerrilla sabotage operations.
Poorly trained, poorly equipped militias defend fixed positions while robots conduct frontal assaults. Elite sabotage teams, including Nimbus, wreak havoc behind enemy lines.
Stratus commands at least a hundred thousand warriors, and mobilizing a million troops is not beyond possibility. Add to that an unknown number of battle droids, and in the worst-case scenario, the enemy could field a million combatants.
The Separatists will never give up this juicy prize.
Meanwhile, Solo's forces total only forty thousand—a mere fly in the ointment compared to the enemy.
The only pro-Republic forces are a ragtag militia of unknown size, with the best-case scenario being no more than fifty thousand.
Fortunately, the Ion Storm's threat wasn't as exaggerated as feared; otherwise, the local fleet would have been crushed by air power long ago. From this perspective, there was still a slim chance to fight back.
But that was only if they could successfully land on the planet's surface.
Unfortunately, they couldn't establish a planetary blockade.
With just one Venator-class Star Destroyer, three Acclamator-class assault ships, and a few light frigates, it was simply impossible—especially since Jabim was deep within Separatist-controlled territory.
No matter the numbers, attempting a reckless blockade would only result in being overwhelmed. Moreover, Sector Command couldn't muster large-scale reinforcements.
Two million clone troopers and a thousand warships were already deployed here, each with their own missions, yet it still wasn't enough. At least another million soldiers and an equal number of warships were needed.
"How can we get out of this?" Solo wondered, preparing for the worst. He glanced at Ahsoka, standing nearby but not participating in the officers' discussion, looking dispirited and radiating doubt through the Force.
For now, he needed to focus on managing the troops.
Solo scanned the crowd for his target and strode purposefully toward him.
"Colonel Tamakas," Solo nodded in greeting. "I need to discuss a few matters with you."
Leonin Tamakas, around forty-five years old, was in charge of logistics and supply as a deputy officer. He primarily handled day-to-day operations, usually resolving issues quickly on the spot.
"I'll bet this is about the Jabim mission," the Colonel said immediately.
"Yes." Solo showed him the commission document.
"Alright, General, please come to my office." Tamakas gestured for him to follow. "I think we'll also need Colonel Ham and Major Ferrero. They're in charge of maintenance and medical services, respectively, and their support is essential for the landing operation."
"I have no objections."
"Master?" A Togruta voice came from behind.
"What is it, Ahsoka?"
"Do you have a moment to talk?" Ahsoka's voice sounded hesitant.
"Is it urgent?"
"Not particularly..."
"Then let's discuss it after I finish here. Time's tight right now." Solo glanced at his wristwatch. "Can you wait an hour or two?"
"Yes, Master." Ahsoka nodded. "I'll wait for you on the Dingyuan."
"You'd better go to the Dawn Blossom instead," Solo corrected her. "The Dingyuan needs to be docked for repairs. It'll be more convenient there."
He activated his communicator and quickly contacted his three captains, giving instructions on the move: "Captains, immediately organize your crews and begin unloading all equipment."
"All equipment, Commander?" Zabrak Captain Bram's voice came through the communicator, seeking confirmation.
"Yes, including the self-propelled heavy artillery," Solo replied firmly. "Jabim's terrain is unsuitable for this heavy equipment. We won't need it."
"Commander, does this mean we have a new mission?"
"Exactly, Jabim."
A sudden curse erupted from the other end of the communicator.
"General, isn't there a civil war going on there?" Jejerod's voice carried a note of surprise.
"You knew about this?"
"Yes, we discussed this planet in our circles before the war," Jejerod replied. "I heard the situation there is... complicated."
"It's worse than that," Solo said gravely. "A massive deposit of rare minerals has been discovered, and the Separatists have already set their sights on it."
"I understand. So our mission is to stop them?"
"Correct." Solo quickened his pace. "We'll land and support the forces loyal to the Republic."
"This is going to be extremely difficult," Lagnos said, his voice filled with concern. "Can we really handle this alone?"
"Commander?" Bram interjected.
"Captain Bram, summon Sumelagi. I need a comprehensive status report on our forces within twenty minutes," Solo ordered. "Troop numbers, equipment losses, supply reserves—the more detailed, the better."
"Yes, Commander."
"Good."
As they spoke, they arrived at Colonel Leonin Tamakas's office.
Upon entering, Colonel Tamakas invited Solo to sit. "The other officers will be here shortly. Please wait."
A few minutes later, the door swung open. A Duros man wearing Colonel's insignia strode in, followed by a woman in military uniform with Major's rank.
Even to Solo's eyes, she exuded the meticulous precision of a civilian administrator.
"General," they saluted simultaneously.
"Sit. We don't have time for pleasantries," Solo said, getting straight to the point. "First, I need you to prioritize the maintenance of three Acclamator-class assault ships and two Venator-class Star Destroyers."
"Commander, the dockyard is already handling other repair tasks. The earliest we can complete your ships' maintenance is in five hours," Colonel Ham, the maintenance officer, replied truthfully.
"Give me three hours," Solo said sternly. "The resupply convoy will arrive in a few hours. We need to be ready to depart immediately. Additionally, take the Pelta-class frigate and convert it into a mobile medical base—immediately!"
Colonel Tamakas raised his hand like a grade school student, his tone serious. "Commander, is the medical base intended to be stationed in orbit for remote support, or will it need to be deployed on the surface? Additionally, we are currently short on medical personnel. You may need to approve our request to supplement the team with specialized medics and medical equipment."
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