Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 68 - "Bang!" (Bonus chapter for every 68 monthly votes, please vote!)

"Shadow Squadron, halt operations! Repeat! Shadow Squadron, halt operations!"

R2-D2 emitted a series of urgent alarms, confirming the presence of a large number of green life signals crammed together inside the cargo hold of the transport ship.

The sensors clearly showed that there were at least tens of thousands of living beings crammed together inside the cabin!
Meanwhile, a squadron of Y-wing bombers from the "Shadow" squadron adjusted their course, engines at full throttle, and hurtled straight toward the transport ships!
Even more alarming, a CR90 light frigate was positioned between the bomber group and the transport fleet, facing the impending attack head-on!

"Damn it!" The "Shadow" squadron leader's curse suddenly rang out in the communications channel. "All personnel halt operations! Repeat, halt operations."

"What!?"

"Raise the price! Raise the price quickly!"

At the last moment, the Y-wing bombers of the "Shadow" squadron pulled up their noses sharply, like a torrent crashing into an invisible reef, and narrowly scattered in front of the brave CR90 frigate. They then quickly maneuvered and regrouped at a safe distance from the transport convoy.

"All aircraft units, maintain alert and standby at current positions," Anakin ordered, then switched communication channels. "Confederate frigate 'Unicorn,' this is Admiral Skywalker of the Republic Navy. Please cease all fire while we verify the situation."

There was a moment of silence on the communication channel, followed by a response: "Received, General Skywalker, thank you for your cooperation."

Almost simultaneously, the massive Unicorn activated its deceleration thrusters, its engine nozzles emitting a soft blue light, and the huge ship slowly came to a stop, hovering in space not far from the Hammerhead Squadron.

As if in response to the agreement reached between the two parties, the annoying communication interference suddenly disappeared.

"General Skywalker!"

Pang Krell's furious voice instantly burst into the communications channel, "What the hell are you doing?! My gunboat squadron is in position, just waiting for your fighters to sweep it away..."

Anakin Skywalker's voice was unusually calm, yet like tempered ice: "Master Krell, could you please explain why you just ordered my troops to fire on a civilian transport ship full of refugees?"

He keenly noticed that the entire communication channel of the Seventh Flight Squadron was unusually quiet, and all the pilots were listening intently.

They all knew perfectly well that they had just come a step away from committing unforgivable war crimes.

“Civilian transport ships!?” Krell asked, still sounding annoyed. “Those cargo ships! They might be carrying separatist war supplies, heading to…”

"Possibly!?" Anakin's voice suddenly rose, bursting with suppressed rage. "Those ships are filled with living refugees! A simple scan would prove it! And you're telling us that the generic refugee markings on the ships are a separatist trick! You're concealing the fact that they're all officially registered with the refugee relief movement!"

“That’s what they claim!” Krell retorted sharply. “Do you think this is the first time they’ve played this trick? I’ve let their ‘refugee ships’ pass before! And what happened? They used that ‘humanitarian corridor’ to launch a surprise attack on my fleet! The whole so-called ‘evacuation operation’ is just a pretext for them to wage war on this planet!”

"And what about radiation contamination?" Anakin pressed on, his voice icy. "What about the nuclear weapons?"

“The Republic’s army never uses nuclear weapons, General Skywalker,” Master Krell let out a cold, sarcastic laugh. “All the nuclear warheads that were detonated came from the Atlanteans’ own arsenal. They destroyed their own homeland with their civil war! And look at those transport ships, Skywalker, look at their models! AA-9 'Bojatef' transport ships! Maximum design capacity of 30,000 passengers! How many people are on board now? 10,000? 15,000?”

The Jedi Master spoke with absolute certainty, as if he already knew everything.

Anakin's gaze swept across the control panel.

Model: AA-9 "Bojatev".

Maximum capacity: 30000 people.

R2 emitted a low humming sound to indicate confirmation, while displaying an estimated life sign of 10,000 to 15,000 people.

“This…this doesn’t change the fact that you’re committing war crimes, Master Krell.” Anakin turned his attention back to the core issue, his voice heavy with disappointment. “If you do this, how are you any different from those separatists? We are Jedi…you should have higher principles! Have you lost your way!?”

“We are at war, General Skywalker!” Krell’s voice suddenly turned cold and deep. “We are first and foremost soldiers of the Republic! To win, some priorities must supersede those…moral fastidiousnesses!”

"Moral fastidiousness?" Anakin repeated the word, feeling a chill of absurdity. "You're slaughtering innocent civilians!"

“I’m eliminating the threat of separatism,” the lost Jedi corrected. “From the moment we accepted the appointment as generals of the Republic, we knew that victory would come at a heavy price. I know the strategic value of Atlaken, and it must not fall into enemy hands under any circumstances. You understand that too, otherwise why are you here?”

Krell is right.

Atlaken cannot be lost.

However... everything before our eyes has crossed an insurmountable line.

“You will be held accountable for your actions,” Anakin’s voice was icy, declaring each word clearly. “You will have to explain to the Jedi Council… no, you will have to face trial by a military court.”

“I’ve seen things, things that you and anyone on the committee can’t even imagine,” Krell’s voice suddenly lowered. “Do you think I’m blind to what I’ve done? I know every single one of my mistakes; they haunt me every night, making me pay the price. Over and over again, endlessly.”

But a few months ago, for the sake of my responsibilities to the Republic, I accepted all of this. One day, you will face the same choice. After this battle is over, I will personally present everything to the committee.

"I know it just as well as you, Krell. I also know the taste of being consumed by nightmares, reliving failure again and again in the darkness."

Anakin cried out in his heart, but ultimately said nothing.

A heavy sense of exhaustion washed over him, and he raised his hand to rub his temples hard, as if trying to dispel the heaviness.

All of this should have been simple... but war is never simple.

……

Paris leaned back in her chair, every word of the fierce exchange on the communication channel still vividly etched into her mind, like cold needles piercing her heart.

“Little Tower,” her voice was as flat and monotone as a stone carving, “Master Krell…is what he said true? About the previous evacuation and attack?”

“If what he says is true,” Little Tower replied calmly, “I cannot verify it independently. All those who might know the full truth of the matter are probably no longer alive. Without in-depth investigation, all we can grasp are the statements that the two sides in the conflict insist on.”

Each side has its own version of events!
Paris muttered to herself.

She recalled someone saying that war is the result of irreconcilable differences in the definition of the same word.

"Sir?" Lieutenant Carroll's voice came through the comms, tinged with tension. "Those Republic fighters... they're still lurking nearby..."

“Keep course and keep going,” Paris’s voice was unusually calm, with an undeniable certainty. “They won’t fire.”

In order to end this endless war, both the Republic and the separatist alliance need to compromise on the definition of "victory".

However, how can such a compromise be reached when both sides are giving their all to achieve their own ideal of a pure and overwhelming victory?

The Jedi Council...do they turn a blind eye to Master Krell's actions?
She didn't want to believe it was intentional, but... the Force flowed within her, bringing a strange sense of comfort and clarity.

She now sees both sides of war clearly.

If she could become a Jedi Master...would she have enough influence to change the way the Republic fights?
She chose to sink into the depths of the Force, allowing it to guide her onto the right path.

She blinked gently, a thought flashing like a spark in the darkness.

"Has the draft surrender terms been prepared?" Paris turned to Little Tower.

The tactical robot silently handed her a data tablet.

Paris's eyes quickly scanned the terms and conditions listed on the screen.

“I believe these terms will best meet the core demands of both sides,” Little Tower said confidently. “The core demand is that all our troops must be allowed to withdraw safely and without hindrance. As a condition for appeasing the Republic, we will transfer control of the Catalina system to their troops and promise to cooperate with any possible investigations into related war crimes. Based on the current battlefield situation analysis, it is expected that the Republic will accept these terms to avoid further loss of personnel and equipment and end the military conflict in this region as soon as possible.”

“Very good!” Barris took a deep breath and looked out at the deep starry sky in front of the bridge. “Open the communication channel. Send these terms... to General Skywalker.”

……

Metalon, Metalon Galaxy.

Tarsenai Sector.

After Ryan briefly learned what had happened in Atlantis, the situation indeed took an unexpected turn.

However, this is normal; not everything can go as planned.

However, Ryan has always been good at adapting to changing circumstances.

“Notify Holgo to cancel the planned ambush,” Rein quickly ordered, his mind clearing. “Order him to hold his position in Vijonn, and then… have Little Tower send the girl back to us… Also, move the ‘Unicorn’ fighter squadron to Odd Tiddle on standby.”

"Yes, yes!"

Rein moved the points of light representing various forces rapidly across the star map in his mind, frantically recalling various scenarios from the war game, trying to piece together the Republic's possible next move.

A thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and he slowly turned his head, his gaze once again falling on the silent "Flame Messenger" outside the window.

“Wait, the plan has changed,” Raine changed his mind again. “Send the ‘Flame Messenger’ to Odd Tiddle along with the ‘Stellar’ squadron, with Little Tower as the commander of this squadron.”

His gaze shifted back to the possible exit of the hyperspace passage, a familiar feeling mixed with vigilance and excitement churning in his stomach.

This is the battlefield intuition honed through ten years of naval service.

He turned around abruptly and found that Hal was still standing there, waiting for his further instructions.

"Hurry up!" Ryan's voice carried an undeniable sternness. "Go and relay the orders immediately!"

After confirming that there were no other urgent matters, Hal immediately nodded, turned around and quickly left the bridge to carry out orders.

Raine strode to the navigation control console, gently pushed aside the navigation robot that was operating, and took his place.

He closed his eyes and recalled the key tactical tags and parameters, then his fingers began to tap rapidly on the control panel, instructing the system to calculate the estimated time for a standard Republic task force to arrive at the location from the Salvara sector.

The console quickly displays a number.

Rein quickly inserted the data card of the 'ARENA' tactical system and compared the calculation results with the system's historical projection data.

"Am I right?" he asked without looking up, more like talking to himself.

The navigation robot, which had been pushed aside, stepped forward. Its processor, behind its dark optical sensors, was running at high speed, carefully examining the parameters and calculations input by Renn.

A few seconds later, it emitted an affirmative synthesized sound and nodded.

Rein reached out and patted the robot's cold metal shoulder, then raised his voice and ordered, "Goldell! All ships are on yellow alert. Execute Standard Combat Order Five. Also, have the 'Stellar' squadron depart immediately and leave this system!"

Despite the lack of any obvious signs of enemy activity, Godell carried out the order without question.

Raine's gaze swept across the huge observation window, watching as the warships of the "White Hand" fleet began to reorganize into four relatively compact oval squadrons under silent commands.

He silently noted down the positions of each ship and their potential routes.

Due to a lack of sufficiently experienced organic commanders, the vast majority of the fleet's warships were connected to a unified tactical network through the core of four C3 'Luke Hook'-class warships at the rear.

These four core ships are directly connected to the upgraded central command system of the USS Repulse.

The thought that in the upcoming battles, Raine would finally be able to sit in the rear command center instead of going to the front lines as before filled him with a sense of relief that almost made him hum a little tune.

When the battle begins, he can comfortably stay here, strategize, and control the situation.

When robots charge into battle amidst a hail of bullets, they simply follow their programming and have no regard for the location of their commander.

While they may lack initiative, their discipline and overall coordination would absolutely crush any fleet of the Republic composed of organic life forms.

This is one of the major advantages of robotic crew members.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rein saw the massive hull of the "Flame Messenger" begin to turn, heading towards another hyperspace portal entrance.

As the danger in the Euceron Sector increased dramatically, the Flame Messenger and the rest of the Stellar Squadron had to take a much longer route to Odd Tiddle.

Raine turned around, facing the direction of the hyperspace exit he had been staring at, raised his hand, made a gun gesture with his index finger and thumb, and aimed at the void.

He imagined the Republic's fleet leaping out from there.

He gently raised his wrist and silently recited:
"boom."

(End of this chapter)