Chương 35: Chapter 33

Raxus Secundus, Raxus System Caluula Sector"This session has been convened today to debate and decide on the confirmation of the Sovereign System of Japrael's nomination for the office of the Supreme Martial Commander of the Separatist Armies." Bec Lawise's ritual opening statement was a calm spell that descended on the Separatist Senate, mellowing out otherwise explosive arguments and debates into civil sobriety. His was the guiding hand that has steered the apparatus of the Confederacy since its inception.

Just as there has been no legitimately considered opposition to the Dooku Administration, Bec Lawise's position as Congress Leader was rock solid. Lawise's level voice commanded respect and maturity as a rare neutral figure in an increasingly partisan Senate. Like the vast majority of Siniteens, he was a political realist, using that massive brain of his to measure every intent and intonation to maintain the fragile decorum in the chamber.

Which was why his decision to spell out the Sovereign System of Japrael was so measured and deliberate. First was that the Confederacy was supposed to be a non-partisan democracy–political parties were not outright banned, but there were legal stoppers in place to prevent them from participating in elections. This non-partisan behaviour was naturally extended to the expected conduct of both the Head of State and Congress Leader.

As such, colloquial labels like 'Peace Faction,' 'War Faction,' and 'Coalition Senators' were not legally bound by any means, and were created by pundits to divvy up the Senate for easy reference. Not that it was wholly untrue, anyhow. Despite the very antipodal nomenclature, cross-party deals were common between the War and Peace Factions.

Their antagonism only extends as far as international relations are concerned, as most of the Independent Systems share similar economic principles–which was why they joined the Separatist Alliance in the first place. Thankfully, this meant the Confederacy's domestic policies were far more coherent than the Republic's. Pre-war Republic's, at least. In any case, the second reason was that Onderon was an 'ally' of the Confederacy.

When the Treaty of Iziz was signed, both Onderon and Raxus acknowledged that the Japrael System was going to be an enclave and especially vulnerable. Onderon's treatment was similar to Fondor in that regard; the membership of an Inner Rim system would be a massive boost the Separatist legitimacy, and so both times diplomats were tasked with specifically wording the treaties so that Onderon and Fondor were'allied' star systems. Neutral parties, so to speak.

Secession wasn't illegal in Republic law–but apparently joining the Separatist Alliance was. Thus, Onderon used that paper thin argument that it had simply exercised its right to secede in order to disqualify the Republic's moral high ground and deter invasion. Paper thin. Less than paper thin. Onderon and Fondor had representation in the Separatist Senate, and had contributed military resources. But that was where Onderon and Fondor differed.

Fondor was one of the premier shipyards of the galaxy, nestled in the Core's backyard–while Onderon was an inhospitable, barely populated backwater on the fringes of the Inner Rim. The last I've heard, Fondor was under siege–by an Onderonian Jedi, ironically. But Onderon? The reason why this diplomatic scheme worked for Onderon was because it would be too much of a hassle for the Republic. Alright, maybe that was an understatement. Fighting Onderon would be hell on earth for the Republic.

Like Fondor, the Onderonian populace was lukewarm at best to the Separatist cause; but once their homeworld was under invasion? The Republic wouldn't be fighting Onderonians, they would be fighting Onderon. Onderon. The planet with a biosphere actively hostile to human life, not to mention the Demon Moon's yearly crusade. The planet with a frankly prideful and notoriously xenophobic people who lived in hidden cities that can't be named or located by anyone but those who lived there.

The planet with an aeon-long history of bloodshed, with innumerable fortresses and mountain redoubts carved into its impenetrable geography. Any invader wouldn't even know where to start. Iziz, the so-called capital city? You might as well mark Japrael System's dot on the starchart as Iziz, because that's the only Onderonian settlement the galaxy can name. Fuck, even I can't name any city outside of Iziz's woefully small sphere of influence–I don't think anybody in this sorry excuse of a 'capital' city can.

No, better leave this shithole of the star system alone in its 'neutrality' then spend nineteen years and a million men slogging through the jungle. It wasn't like Onderon had any strategic importance anyway–location-wise or resource-wise. The Congress Leader drew my attention back to the event at hand, "The floor is now open to debate." Speaker Lawise waited several heartbeats, but there was not a single voice of dissent.

Maybe it was the cliques of officers watching from the mezzanines–myself included–imposing a watchful pressure on the politicians below. Each one of us owed our lives to Sev'rance Tann–or at least that's how it was spun–and a walkout would be a tacit condemnation of our government. Holocam droids buzzed around; the eyes of the Confederacy were on us. Or maybe it was the star of the show, Sev'rance Tann herself, standing in close-eyed silence at the foot of the debate tables below.

She was the very picture of composure, ready to answer any inquiry or refute any detraction of her character. Confidence radiated from her stance in waves, and even Mina Bonteri standing a handful of kiosks away appeared moved. Maybe it was simple enough that nobody dared oppose the face of the Confederate Armed Forces right in front of her.

The answer was simple; it was everything previously mentioned, and it was the collective conclusion of the Senate that this was the closest they've ever been to confirming a Supreme Commander; the Peace Faction have finally taken a step off their platform to meet the War Faction in the middle in a rare display of compromise. If any of the War Faction argues, it would be the death sentence of their entire agenda and even legitimacy. Even those on Dooku's payroll could only keep their heads down and let gears turn.

Sev'rance Tann was a decorated hero of the Confederacy who had fought for the Separatist cause ever since its inception. She was the only Separatist commander who had ever struck the Core Worlds. She was at one point the executive nomination. The media's exaltation of her character had only catapulted her fame to astronomical heights. I daresay she was very well now a household name, at least in the Near Perlemian region.

The only thing that could stop the inevitability of her confirmation was Dooku himself, and he was nowhere to be seen. I could just imagine the man hauling ass from Serenno–and even though the thought made me want to giggle, that ever-present part of me warned not to underestimate him. However, simple logic dictates that there was absolutely no way for him to get here in time.

He could take any path–the Republic-occupied Salin Corridor, the Gordian Reach or the Listehol Run–and still take days to reach Raxus even with the latest hyperdrive. He wasn't getting here in time. End of story. Would you look at that, I mused, the Senate is in checkmate.

"If there is no opposition in this body," Mina Bonteri boomed, voice powerful and clear as water, "Then Onderon moves that this body proceeds with the vote." Once again, Lawise waited some seconds for dissent, before finally relenting, "The dais recognises the Senator from Onderon's motion. By the Bylaws of Independent Systems, a voice vote is required to proceed."

A resounding 'aye' rose from the stands, to the point some of the spectating officers were moved backwards in surprise, as if the wall of noise had physically shoved them. From the corner of my eye, I spotted the Harch Admiral Trench rising head and shoulders over the crowd, passively stroking one of his mandibles as he eyed General Tann like a… well, like a spider watching a fly.

"The ayes have it," the Speaker declared, though with an unmistakable tone of lament. Before I could even begin to analyse why, however, he had already moved on.

"The Sovereign System of Japrael's nomination is General Sev'rance Tann," he announced to nobody's surprise, "Her file is now being transmitted to your consoles." A ripple of humour billowed through the spectating military caste. File, the common thought seemed to be, what file? What was there to look at, what was there to think about? Was it her capture of Sarapin, the world that supplied 80% of the Core's power?

Was it Krant, where she dealt the second decisive blow against the Republic by killing a Jedi General and crushing a Sector Fleet? Was it Christophsis, or Bothawui, or Columex? Usually, a hearing would begin by now. Nothing serious; just a meaningless audit for the books. Stuff like cross-referencing her achievements, confirming her competency, and acknowledging her loyalty. But not a single Senator dared to stand up and break the thick, heavy fog settling over the benches.

The peer pressure was so thick it made even me uncomfortable; only expounding by the pure calm General Tann displayed. I could be made to think this was just another military council. All it would take is one person, I thought, one person to break the ice. I swept my gaze over the opposing stands, searching out the Senators I knew to be corporate-backed, or Dooku loyalists. Those driven by ideals–Peace or War Faction regardless–were likely sincere, but those driven by profit?

It seemed not even profit could make them move now.

"According to the Bylaws of Independent Systems, an absolute majority is needed to confirm the Supreme Commander's nomination," Speaker Lawise tapped his console and stepped back, "You may now cast your votes." Like a great dam breached, the mounting pressure was abruptly released by hundreds of Senators all but leaping from their seats and dispersing among each other to debate the vote in their cliques.

The only outliers were the Coalition Senators, who had already voted en masse, and General Tann herself, unmoved and straight as an arrow even as Senators crossing the floor gave her a wide berth. I hunted down Admiral Trench once again, and began moving towards him. It was not difficult–even by alien standards, the towering Harch race was off-putting.

Admiral Trench was a legendary figure long before Sev'rance Tann's name first appeared in officer logs, and his very presence only stacked even more legitimacy to General Tann's claim. There was an invisible wall, almost tangible, that separated him from the rest of the spectators.

"Commodore Bonteri, may we have a moment of your time?" I froze, spinning on a heel, "Commander… Dymurra." Commander Dymurra of Ampliquen saluted carelessly, before smoothly transitioning into an introductory gesture for the steel-clad Skakoan beside him, "This is Bunt Dantor of the Techno Union. We have a proposition to make." I shifted my gaze between them, before glancing over my shoulder to make sure Trench hadn't moved.

"I appreciate forthrightness," I said, and they took it as permission to speak.

"With the– with General Tann's inevitable ascension, the Loronar Corporation and Techno Union wish for a collaborative venture with our new Supreme Commander," Dymurra started.

"You are being a bit hasty, don't you think?"

"Not at all," Bunt Dantor inserted, "As businesses, we must seize the initiative. Doubtlessly, our rivals will be courting the Pantoran as soon as this farce of a vote is over. We wish for an exclusive contract with the Office of the General."

"You seem confident in the vote's result," I commented mildly.

"If you are not, officer, then consider that the Techno Union's worlds will vote for her if our proposition is accepted." I sucked in a wince. Alright, that was a bit too honest. Luckily, we were far from the prying eyes and ears of the camdroids. Nevertheless, their objective was rather straightforward–they wanted to get the jump on the rest of the military-industrial complex.

With a Supreme Commander, the disparate corporations finally had a centralised figure and budget to approach in order to get contracts, and every single one of them wanted the largest slice of the cake. A raised a flat palm, "It's the Free Dac Volunteers that have brought this one, isn't it?"

"We are on the same page, officer." With the reveal of two QFD-built star dreadnoughts–and likely many more in the works–the Free Dac Volunteers Engineering Corps undoubtedly were the premiere starship manufacturer of the Confederacy. Not to mention their chokehold on the Providence-class and Recusant-class designs that make the backbone of the Confederate Navy. They must have secured the contracts from Dooku and the secret council of corporations backing him, circumventing the proper processes.

But with a Supreme Commander, that avenue no longer existed, and everything concerning the matters of the military must go through the Office of the General of the Separatist Army. This was their chance to tear away the QFD's dominance with a superweapon of their own. Stolen story; please report. However, if I remember correctly, Wat Tambor–Foreman of the Techno Union–was a member of that secret council.

"What does the Foreman have to say about this?" I raised an eyebrow.

"There has been no contact with Foreman Tambor since Ryloth," Bunt Dantor said bluntly, "But the board of directors cannot let this opportunity slip." I could have also asked why they came to me of all people, but I suppose they had been thorough in their research, so it would be moot.

"Very well," I conceded, "Give me your proposal." Dymurra smirked, producing a holoproj before inserting a datachip into it, "The Loronar Corporation had closely observed the Battle of Columex, and considering the effectiveness of your strategy, we propose a testbed for an entirely new class of vessel." The schematics burst out of the projector, detailing a warship that could only be described as an interstellar catamaran.

The intent was clear enough–even without digging into the specifications–they wanted to replicate the Tann Railgun with an internal propulsion system rather than external. The immediate problem that I noticed–and so did they–was that the Tann Railgun wasn't a railgun. They called this vessel a testbed, and not a warship, because an internalised Tann Railgun had never been done before.

See, the Tann Railgun couldn't be replicated with some rails and electromagnets–the galaxy has a long history of kinetic mass drivers–because the Tann Railgun was more accurately a warp drive pretending to be a mass driver. A railgun can't accelerate its warhead anywhere near relativistic velocities–the most powerful could perhaps manage a muzzle velocity of 20KPS; and the Tann Railgun had 100, 000KPS. The drawbacks, however, were immense.

Just to accelerate a proton torpedo needed the full power output of dreadnought reactors, with corresponding military-grade tractor beams. The energy required was immense, and the safeties were limited–we were dealing with the fabric of space-time here–any smallest hiccup could result in… well, just look at what happened to my bastardised version of it at Columex. A dozen warships vapourised and tens of thousands dead.

The Tann Railgun worked by contracting space in front of the warhead and expanding space behind it. With this, the warhead can break the speed of light. To my layman knowledge, this was essentially creating a warp drive. An extremely unstable warp drive that was bad enough outside the ship, but inside? Factoring in the space needed for energy generation, propulsion systems, and the sheer amount of redundancies and safeties…

the prospective warship will basically be a self-propelled artillery piece, possessing nothing but its main armament. Then there were the fire control systems. While having an internal system meant firing solutions would be more straightforward, I highly doubt it would be the same as a conventional mass driver. Hell, I suspect the Tann Railgun only achieved any semblance of accuracy because of Force shenanigans, with Sev'rance Tann using her foresight to trial and error every firing solution until she got a hit.

Columex's bastardised version of it only worked due to the sheer number of targets and projectiles, and even then the hit ratio was less than one in a hundred. In other words, this was going to be a long-term project. A prohibitively expensive one, at that. The Loronar Corporation and Techno Union will be building a completely new weapon system from the ground up, with a completely new hull to hold it. Would it work? I can't tell, hell I might not even be alive by the time it becomes mainstream.

Can it even be done? If nothing else, both the Loronar Corporation and Techno Union possess a portfolio of non-standard designs and technologies. If anybody could do it, it would be them.

"The Loronar Corporation will design the unique hullshape necessary, as is our specialty, as you know," Dymurra explained, clearly responding to my pensiveness, "Our subsidiary Loronar Defense Industries will collaborate with the Techno Union's Baktoid Fleet Ordnance to design the warhead and firing system.

And–""And our Techno Union Research and Development Wing will immediately begin prospective studies and analysis into potential gravitic particle accelerator concepts and fire control systems," Bunt Dantor finished, "I will not lie, officer. This venture may or may not work, but it is my belief that proving a null hypothesis is still a step forward."

"... I know," I folded my arms, "That is not my concern. My concern is the time and funds this venture needs. If you propose such after the war, I may be able–""No," Bunt Dantor said heatedly, eyes burning with an intensity I had not expected, "It must be now. There is no guarantee Sev'rance Tann is still the Supreme Commander after the war. She is the only one who would greenlight such a risky venture.

This is as much about exploring new technologies as it is about profit, officer, and the Techno Union is fully willing to invest as much resources as necessary."

"As much resources as necessary…?" I echoed lightly, snuffing a laugh, "Is that the Techno Union's words, or that of the Research and Development Wing?" Dymurra hastily stepped forward, holding back Dantor with a hand, "We do not expect the Office of the General to fund everything, only the research and feasibility studies. For now, theory comes first. Implementation can come after the war." I slowly looked up at the ceiling, cracking my neck. That was…

much more agreeable, not to mention it would tie the Loronar Corporation and the Techno Union–one of largest commercial conglomerates in the galaxy–to General Tann specifically. The same Techno Union that was the parent company of the Baktoid Industries that supplied almost all of the Droid Army's droids. There was a lot of potential for negotiations there–such as cheaper contracts and exclusivity–and if I position myself as the intermediary… I nodded sharply, "I will bring this to General Tann.

But I need a lot more than this to convince her."

"Overseer Umbrag is open to negotiations," Bunt Dantor knitted his gloved fingers together, "We are still grateful for your assistance in our relocation to Boz Pity. I am certain we can come to a profitable agreement; please let us know your answer to the earliest convenience."

"Of course."

"Then we shall take no more of you time," Dymurra saluted again, and the two of them drifted to their next meeting. …Thinking about it, maybe I should visit Boz Pity myself and see what Umbrag has made of it–with Vinoc in tow for safety, of course. Not to mention I had to see if my secondary rationale for selecting Boz Pity had borne any fruit. Other than that, I still had to return to my original objective.

"Admiral, sir," I called once he was in earshot, "It gladdens me to see that you are well." Admiral Trench slowly ripped his gaze away from the proceedings below, though he never fully turned towards me, "Your sentiments are wasted on me, Commodore. Save them for the Confederacy." Even now, his chittering made my skin crawl. I stopped a good distance away from him, shooting a glare at the inconspicuous gaggle of eavesdroppers to disperse them.

"The Confederacy's safety is far from assured yet, sir," I replied, "But with the Pantoran now at our helm and your resurgence we may still have a fighting chance. Though I must admit, your support was… surprising." There was a cross between a snort and a sneer, mechanical arms whirring as he crossed them front and back, "We are a long way from Christophsis, Commodore. If we are to seize victory, we must be united under a Supreme Commander our soldiers know and trust.

Do not mistake me; I still believe the office should have been mine to take–but I do not find myself displeased with General Tann. There is no better candidate at this moment. At this crucial moment, we must not allow the machinations of the state to disrupt us. Dooku, for all his political intellect, has finally overreached." I swallowed, weighing my response, "... There is no doubt Count Dooku is a peerless statesman, but he does not understand nor wish to understand our role as officers of the Confederacy.

He still believes it is natural for soldiers to obediently comply with any order from above."

"Grievous…" this time, I made out Trench's vicious sneer clearly, "He is a capable tactician, but little more than that. As generals and admirals, we must be aware that our decisions have tangible ramifications, yet that buffoon wields such great power with neither height nor responsibility. Grievous should have never been made a general–he should've remained a field commander."

"... Dooku will not take this lying down," I muttered. Admiral Trench finally swung around, giving me my first good look of his new visage. Pinkish, strung skin rippled down the left side of his face, the remnants pieced together by gilded cybernetics. I couldn't deny there was style, but the very thought of being turned into a cyborg made something inside me shrivel up. Prosthetics were one thing, but I think I'd rather die than prolong my life with machinery.

"Then we must consider him a potential threat to the longevity of our Confederacy," Trench's response was plain.

"The government steers the state," I cautioned, "Not the military."

"Then we must impart on the government that wisdom," Trench stared into my soul, "We are the hounds of the state. Let's have them point their fingers in the direction of the hunt, not put them between our jaws." Something gripped me, then, as I looked into Trench's gleaming eyes. He was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't figure it out. I missed something –the thought was a clenching first, squeezing my arms to my sides– but what did I miss?

I overlooked something crucial, but it was something that the old Harch has already seen. Just what was it…

"–Where is General Grievous?" I burst out, uncaring that I was probably overstepping.

"He and Tonith have absconded westward with the dreadnought Devastation," the Admiral answered, "He has been unresponsive to Raxus' summons. The investigation into the Battle of Columex will have to wait."

"... You cannot be serious. Sir."

"Now, more than ever, we need more hands placed upon the helm of state," a rising commotion below drew our attention back to the railings, "General Tann has spoken with me, and I am inclined to agree with her. Expect a promotion, Commodore. Soon, your hand will join ours."

"The voting has concluded!" Speaker Lawise declared, "The nomination has two-hundred and seventy-six ayes and thirty nays. The nomination passes by an overwhelming majority; General Sev'rance Tann is hereby the first Supreme Martial Commander of the Separatist Armies!" The Parliament hall exploded into thunderous applause–more so pouring down from the mezzanines than from the senatorial benches themselves.

Even if many senators–Peace and War Faction alike, though for different reasons–were only clapping begrudgingly, the illusion of complete support was already established. As General Tann began reciting her oaths of office, another thought struck me.

"Admiral," I kept my head straight, "Why did you speak against General Grievous?"

"Commander Trilm approached me with a very convincing argument," Trench clicked his mandibles. So she really did… A convincing argument, huh? The only thing I can think of is the debt Trench owed me for saving his life. It's a shame I wouldn't be able to cash it in at a more opportune moment, but I think this was a good exchange anyway.

"You have misunderstood," Trench read my mind, "It seems you do not know Commander Trilm as much as you think you do." I snapped my head up at him, "Pardon? Sir?"

"I still owe you a life debt, make no mistake," Trench watched as General Tann received her new rank plaque, "Commander Trilm placed herself in my debt to persuade me." What? That Calli Trilm, placing herself in someone else's debt for no personal benefit? I couldn't help but frown. Hold on… if Grievous and Tonith are headed west, what about her? I wetted my lips, "Where… where is Commander Trilm right now?"

"Antemeridian Sector, pushing Republic forces back into the Mid Rim and fortifying our front against any further incursions."

"..."

"Allow me to tell you what I think of Calli Trilm," Trench chuckled deeply, "She is cut from the same cloth as Count Dooku. She is prideful, ambitious–and she despises being in someone else's shadow. She will never use somebody else's name, because her dignity would not allow it."

"Take this piece of advice, Commodore," we watched as a messenger snuck through one of the side doors before whispering something into Senator Avi Singh's ear, "You must secure Commander Trilm's loyalty at any cost. Once you are an admiral, you will be stepping out of our shadows. Your successes will no longer be attributed to your superiors, but yourself. Your name will be spoken in the media, and appear on the desks of Senate committees and even Dooku himself.

You will need trusted friends, and it is apparent to me that Commander Trilm already trusts you."

"... I find that hard to believe." Senator Singh had shot to his feet and scampered towards Senator Bonteri, relaying the messenger's words. In a rare display of utter shock, Mina's eyes were wide open as she stared at Ames.

"If you find yourself in a disagreement with her," Trench said distantly, "Then you must find common ground before it proves fatal on the battlefield."

"I will heed your words, Admiral," I finally decided.

"I trust that you will…" Trench's words drifted away as frenzied whispers spread through the Senate. Usually, Bec Lawise would put an end to the confusion by now, but even the Congress Leader himself was struck to silence by whatever he saw on his console. Mina Bonteri was whirling around, scanning the upper decks until her eyes met mine. The Speaker took a deep breath– "We have just received a transmission from the Republic Diplomatic Corps!

The Republic Senate has voted in favour of a peace initiative between our states, and have extended an offer for preliminary negotiations!"

"Peace!?" Voe Atell didn't let a stunned silence take hold, "The Loyalists face one defeat and now they're suing for peace!? How many systems and worlds have we lost!? This is obviously a ploy to quit while they're ahead! With General Tann at the head of our military, we must seize the initiative and take back what we had lost!" The War Faction and Coalition Senators erupted into roars of agreement, verbally tearing the Republic's offer into pieces.

After all, many Coalition worlds were still occupied by Loyalist armies. The Peace Faction, on the other hand, were far from celebrating. Instead, panicked buzzing ripped through their ranks. This was a disaster. It was the Peace Faction that had nominated a Supreme Commander, and now the Republic was suing for peace? This was nothing other than a disaster for them. Mina Bonteri stared at me, watching my reaction. I mouthed something at her, nodding shallowly, and the edges of her lips curled upwards.

"May we have order!" Speaker Lawise demanded, "There will be a Senate session scheduled for the debate and voting of this peace initiative– the dais recognises the Senator from Onderon."

"Might I suggest that our new Supreme Commander reveal her thoughts on this matter?" Senator Bonteri asked. I could see War Faction senators leaning forward eagerly, while confusion gripped the ranks of Peace Faction senators. The question both sides had was obvious; why was she so confident? The holocam droids circled around General Tann like vultures waiting for their next meal, while the person in question drew herself up.

"As Supreme Commander of our military forces," Sev'rance Tann started, to a deathly quiet audience, "I must take into account the ultimate mission of the Confederacy of Independent Systems; to secede from the Republic state, with each and every memberworld of the Separatist Alliance in its borders. However, it is also the mission of the Confederate Armed Forces to defend the livelihoods of our people, and protect the sanctity of our constitution.

As such, even if this peace initiative fails, it is still my official recommendation that we respond to the Republic favourably."

"In fact!" the Supreme Commander raised her voice, completely gripping the Senate in her address to the point where neither faction could seek to oppose her, "It is not just my official recommendation, but the oathsworn duty of each and every one of us to seek peace where we can! Believe me, we will fight the Republic to the bitter end if our objective is not reached, but until the Republic proves unreasonable, the Separatist Armies will fight at the negotiating table just as hard as we do on the battlefield!"