**Chapter 365: Shattered Promises**
**Scene 1**
**Dagon's POV**
Zule's emotional state was spiraling out of control.
I could feel it through our bond like a storm breaking — raw pain, crushing fear, and overwhelming grief slamming against her mind. She was teetering on the edge of breaking.
"Zule, wait!" I called, breaking into a run through the crowded street.
She didn't slow. Her purple hair whipped behind her as she pushed past startled civilians, golden eyes wild with desperation.
"Zule, stop!"
"No! Let me go!" she shouted, voice cracking.
I caught up in three long strides and wrapped her in a tight bear hug from behind, pinning her arms gently but firmly against her sides. She struggled for a moment, then went rigid.
"Easy, girl," I murmured against her ear, pouring calm through the Force. "We will find them. I swear it."
"How?" she choked out, voice trembling. "The Zygerrians are ruthless. They don't release slaves. They break them. My mother… my sisters…"
I turned her in my arms so she faced me, keeping her close. "I promise you. Remember — we are engaged. You are not alone in this. Not anymore."
For a long second she stared at me, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Then the dam broke.
Zule collapsed against my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Her whole body shook as years of suppressed pain, abandonment, and guilt poured out. I held her tightly, one hand stroking her long purple hair while the other rubbed slow circles on her back.
"I've got you," I whispered. "We'll get them back. No matter what it takes."
She clung to me like I was the only solid thing left in her world, tears soaking through my tunic.
**Scene 2**
High above Falleen, space suddenly lit up with the flash of emerging hyperspace signatures.
The CIS had finally arrived.
"Looks like they're desperate," I observed from the bridge of the *Sovereign*, arms crossed as the tactical display populated.
Tarkin glanced at me. "Sir? Why would you say so?"
"They sent a few dreadnoughts," I replied, nodding at the hologram. "Over eight dreadnought heavy cruisers — though at only 700 meters they're really just decent escort cruisers compared to a Star Destroyer, never mind a *Valiant*. But those fifteen Providence-class dreadnoughts… the 2,000-meter variants. They're throwing serious tonnage at us."
The enemy fleet formed up quickly: the heavy cruisers screening the flanks while the larger Providence carriers prepared to disgorge swarms of Vulture droids and tri-fighters.
Tarkin's lips thinned into a thin smile. "Then let's show them what real tonnage looks like."
The battle erupted with savage efficiency.
The five *Valiant*-class cruisers and seven Venators opened fire in coordinated broadsides. Green turbolaser lances and heavy ion bolts tore across the void. The *Sovereign*, *Hood*, *York*, *Enterprise*, and *Vanguard* moved like predators, their hammerhead prows cutting through the enemy formation while overlapping fields of fire shredded the lighter dreadnoughts.
Lancer frigates darted in and out, their point-defense lasers and concussion missiles ripping apart entire squadrons of droid fighters before they could reach attack range.
The real highlight came from the *Arquitens*-class command cruisers embedded in the formation. One of them — under Ethan tactical oversight — unleashed a perfectly timed torpedo volley. A full spread of proton torpedoes slammed into three of the Providence dreadnoughts in rapid succession. The warheads punched deep into their hulls before detonating. The massive carriers erupted in spectacular plasma debris clouds, their reactors breaching in brilliant white-blue explosions that lit up the entire battlefield.
No CIS ships survived.
Within twenty minutes the engagement was over. The last burning hulk of a Recusant destroyer tumbled away into the void, trailing fire and debris. The Falleen defensive fleet had barely needed to fire a shot.
"Enemy fleet eliminated," Tarkin reported, voice cool and satisfied. "No survivors."
I nodded once. "Excellent work. Signal the fleet to maintain high alert. The real fight for Falleen is just beginning."
Below us, on the planet's surface, Zule was still hurting. Her family had been taken to Zygerria — the heart of the slave trade. The CIS attack had been repelled for now, but the greater battle — the personal one — was far from over.
I turned from the viewport and headed for the hangar.
It was time to bring my Padawan home… and start planning a rescue mission that would shake the galaxy.