### **Chapter 210 – Calm Before the Next Storm**
### **Dagon's POV**
Coruscant never changed.
Even after war had spread across the galaxy, even as entire systems burned and fleets clashed in the void, the capital remained the same—endless towers piercing the sky, traffic lanes filled with speeders, the illusion of stability maintained at all costs.
But I could see through it now.
War didn't need to reach Coruscant physically to affect it.
It was already here.
In politics.
In decisions.
In silence.
---
The Terminus settled into its assigned docking vector with controlled precision, its massive frame overshadowing smaller vessels in the shipyard lanes. As soon as clearance was granted, I issued my first order.
"Transfer the recovered credits."
Ethan responded instantly. "Destination?"
"Akatsuki."
A pause.
"From there, route it to Lantilles. Dittmar will handle the rest."
The war fund.
Hidden.
Untouched.
Growing.
"Understood," Ethan replied, already initiating the encrypted transfer protocols.
Hundreds of millions of credits—converted, masked, redirected. A billion more in gemstones would follow through slower channels. Everything had a purpose.
Everything would be used.
---
When I finally stepped off the ship, they were already waiting.
Ahsoka.
Visenya.
Kayla.
Flare.
Stella.
All of them.
Alive.
Unharmed.
That alone was enough.
"You took your time," Kayla said, though there was no real irritation in her voice.
"I had work to finish."
Before I could say anything else, she stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace.
Unexpected.
But not unwelcome.
Visenya followed immediately after, wrapping her arms around me with a warmth that lingered longer than necessary.
For Zeltrons, it was normal.
Emotion wasn't hidden.
It was expressed.
Even here.
Even within the Jedi Order's rigid structure, they found their ways around it—loopholes in interpretation, not violation.
Still—
I could feel it.
Ahsoka's gaze.
Sharp.
Conflicted.
Stella's quiet discomfort.
Flare's measured observation, though even she couldn't completely hide the shift in her presence.
Jealousy.
Unspoken.
Unresolved.
Complicated.
I said nothing.
Because saying something would make it worse.
---
"Glad you're back… without injuries," Ahsoka said finally, her tone controlled but carrying something deeper beneath it.
"I told you I would be."
Not entirely true.
But close enough.
---
We didn't get long.
We never did.
---
A transmission arrived.
Priority.
Jedi Council.
---
"Well," I muttered quietly, "so much for time off."
Kayla smirked slightly. "You call this time off?"
"No," I replied. "I call it interrupted."
---
Still—
It gave me time to think.
And thinking was dangerous.
---
Christen's reports had been clear.
War timelines were shifting.
Events were happening earlier than expected—or not at all.
Jablim.
Boz Pity.
Muunilinst.
All altered.
Which meant—
The future I remembered no longer existed.
Not fully.
Not reliably.
---
Christophsis hadn't been attacked yet.
That alone confirmed it.
Which also meant—
No Venator-class Star Destroyers.
Not yet.
And more importantly—
No Malevolence.
No ion cannon fleet killer.
Not yet.
---
Palpatine wouldn't give me a Venator.
Not now.
Not when his focus was still on his "chosen" general.
Anakin Skywalker.
The golden boy.
The future he was shaping.
---
Which meant I had time.
Time to prepare.
Time to build.
Time to gather ships.
Because when the war escalated—
And it would—
I intended to be ready.
---
### **Jedi Council POV**
The Council chamber felt heavier than usual.
Not physically.
But in presence.
War had changed everything.
---
Only a few seats were occupied.
Yoda sat in quiet contemplation.
Shaak Ti remained composed, though her focus was sharp.
Ki-Adi-Mundi reviewed data streams.
Even Piell stood rigid, arms folded.
The absence of the others was… notable.
Unusual.
But not unexplained.
They were needed elsewhere.
Everywhere.
---
"The war expands," Ki-Adi-Mundi said, breaking the silence.
"Too quickly," Shaak Ti added.
Even Piell's expression hardened.
"The Separatists outnumber us a hundred to one."
That wasn't exaggeration.
It was reality.
---
"Yet," Yoda spoke softly, "victories, we have."
All eyes shifted slightly.
Devaron.
The destruction of the slaver base had changed something.
A neutral world—
Now aligned with the Republic.
---
"Master Bella Ropal will be dispatched to secure diplomatic stability," Ki-Adi-Mundi stated.
A small gain.
But a necessary one.
---
"Other threats remain," Even Piell added.
"Naboo reports renewed Separatist movement."
That alone was concerning.
And then—
"General Grievous remains unaccounted for."
Silence followed.
Because that mattered more than anything else.
---
"And Dooku's agents," Shaak Ti said quietly.
"His acolytes are increasing activity."
Including—
Quinlan Vos.
Still missing.
Still dangerous.
---
The war wasn't slowing.
It was evolving.
---
### **Dagon's POV**
We entered the Council chamber together.
Formal.
Controlled.
Disciplined.
"Honorable Council," we said in unison.
My eyes scanned the room quickly.
Fewer members.
More pressure.
More urgency.
---
"Master Marek," Ki-Adi-Mundi began, "a new assignment awaits you."
Of course it did.
"You will find the details at the headquarters of the First Sector Army. A request for assistance has been received."
A pause.
"From Moff Trachta."
Interesting.
Not a Jedi operation.
A military one.
---
"You and your clone unit are being dispatched."
Straightforward.
Direct.
Immediate.
---
I tilted my head slightly.
"Um…"
Before I could continue—
Ki-Adi-Mundi cut in.
"Reinforcements and equipment have already been transferred."
Another pause.
"The wounded are fit for duty."
And then—
"The officers aboard your ship have been informed."
---
So.
It was already decided.
---
I exhaled slowly.
"Understood."
No argument.
No hesitation.
---
Because this was war.
And war didn't wait.
---
### **Dagon's POV (End)**
As we left the chamber—
I could feel it again.
That shift.
That pull.
The Force moving.
Events aligning.
---
Another battle.
Another front.
Another step forward.
---
And somewhere—
In the shadows—
Someone was watching.
Waiting.