Sublight Drive (Star Wars)

“Report,” Jedi Master Adi Gallia’s footfalls were frantic in her march to the central turbolist of the Jedi Temple.

“With the help of Republic Intelligence,” Jedi Knight Iskat Akaris started first, her long strides easily keeping up with the hasty Tholothian, “We have narrowed down the location of the Sith Lord’s hideout to a single sector. All squads are in position, and are waiting for your green light.”

“Hold position until I arrive,” Gallia replied quickly, “I will lead the assault personally.”

“Understood, Master,” the red-skinned Knight dipped her chin in deference.

“Barriss?”

“I’ve identified seventeen more Sith agents in the Jedi Temple,” Jedi Knight Barriss Offee reported, “Eleven of which are also agents of Republic Intelligence.”

“Have you engaged them?”

“No,” the Mirialan Knight answered, “They’re all on high alert after Heezo’s disappearance… which ironically made finding them easier. But I have not directly engaged them.”

“Make all of them disappear,” Adi Gallia ordered simply, her deathly visage forcing the crowded gallery of the Temple to part before her like dust before a cosmic wind, “We only need one or two for questioning. Find the rest, if any. We can’t have any unaccounted loose ends before the operation.”

Barriss was silent, but the Jedi Master knew she had acknowledged her.

“Anything new on the Delta Source investigation?”

“I have my suspicions on a number of locations in the Temple where it is present,” Barriss started, “But nothing definitive. The Delta Source is almost certainly not present everywhere. I’m working on finding a common link between all the locations.”

“Delta Source is hiding in plain sight,” Jedi Knight Bode Akina gritted his teeth, “And that is what makes it most infuriating of all.”

“I see,” the Jedi Master murmured emotionlessly, “And PRIESTESS?”

Barriss Offee side-eyed Bode Akuna, “Ready and waiting.”

“Agree,” Knight Akuna adjusted his sleeves, “We’ve acquired definitive proof of communication between the Chancellor Palpatine and Count Dooku. With all the gathered evidence of the Executive Office’s corruption, the manifesto is complete, and PRIESTESS will broadcast it to the entire galaxy.”

“We need to dispatch the manifesto to our allies in the Inner Systems first,” Master Gallia reminded them, “So that they may review the evidence and prepare accordingly.”

“...Duly noted, Master.”

“You sound displeased, Bode,” Iskat Akaris jabbed her elbow into his side.

“I struggle to stomach the fact that this entire operation hinges on a Separatist spy network,” Bode grumbled.

“A Separatist spy network so deeply embedded in the Grand Army’s communication infrastructure that not even Intelligence knows it exists,” Barriss mollified, “All eyes are on the Jedi Temple right now, as we prepare the Expeditionary Fleet. We must assume the Chancellor and Republic Intelligence will be monitoring all communication–not just from the Temple, but from all Coruscant. The one place they won’t be looking is their own military satellites.”

‘Especially after they swept them all in the wake of the terrorist attack’ was left unsaid. The fact that PRIESTESS–whatever it was–could remain hidden even after Republic Intelligence’s closest scrutiny was proof enough of the network’s efficacy. Adi Gallia had to admit, the Confederacy’s digital engineers were second to none, and far outstrips the Republic’s. And with the desertion of the Rendili Defense Fleet to the Separatist Alliance as well, it was a foregone conclusion their starship engineering field would begin catching up in leaps and bounds.

The technological gap between the Republic and the Separatists was closing at an alarming rate, and the days of assuming an edge in officer talents had vanished as the Outer Rim produced monsters like Sev’rance Tann, Trench, Rain Bonteri, and Calli Trilm. Even the Republic’s venerable military tradition found itself counterbalanced by the Confederacy’s rapid adoption of Tann’s military reforms. Now, it was the Republic’s industrial behemoth–its vast, seemingly endless production capacity–that kept the war in balance, its sheer scale eclipsing the Outer Rim\'s by an order of magnitude, allowing it to sustain the heavy losses incurred in battle after battle much better than the Confederacy.

But even that edge, some whispered, might not hold forever. The Crisis in the Core–unleashed by what the Confederate Armed Forces had dubbed Operation Starlance–had allowed Admiral Trench to reclaim the Confederacy’s most critical production sectors and enabled General Farstar to shield the vital commercial hubs along the Corellian Run. Nothing enough to directly challenge the Republic’s industrial supremacy, but it was enough to drive home a hard truth: victory would not come as swiftly as once thought. And that was to say nothing of the spectre of rebellion hovering ever nearer, known only to a select few.

“Master Gallia,” Bode Akuna suddenly asked as the turbolift lobby came into view, “Forgive me, but I must ask… is this operation truly necessary?”

“If you want to stop it, Bode,” Master Gallia murmured, “It is already too late. Too many plans, schemes have been set into motion. Even if I wanted to call it off, there is no slowing down its momentum.”

After a period of strangled silence, the Jedi-Republic Intelligence operative blew out an explosive sigh, “It just seems like we have different priorities. The Sith must be rooted and destroyed, yes, but would destroying the Republic in the process be worth it?”

Adi Gallia paused, arm freezing as she reached out to summon the lift, “The Republic is already dying, Bode. If we let the Sith see this war to its end, there won’t be a Republic left to destroy.”

“But we can– we could’ve…” the Human struggled with his words.

“We could’ve destroyed the Sith, and revived the Republic?” the Jedi Master turned around, an eyebrow raised, “Without risking a civil war? Is this what you intend to say?”

Bode clenched his fists, and Barriss took a step forward, “I believe he intends to say we could’ve gone about this without plunging the Republic into another civil war, that we didn’t have to consign ten million more deaths to the galaxy.”

There was troubledness lurking behind the eyes of the two Knights, as if they were still wrestling with the terrible creature they were plotting to unleash. Unlike them, Iskat Akaris held no such reservations. Adi Gallia held in an exasperated breath. It was precisely this situation that prevented her from informing the Jedi High Council of the details of their plot. Because it is unavoidable that the Jedi–

“You love the Republic,” she informed them factually, “You cannot bear to see it end like this.”

Bode nearly flinched, “Why would I love the Republic–?”

“You love the idea of the Republic,” Master Gallia said gently, “You love this civilization, the only civilization the galaxy has ever known. You love this civilization, because without it there is no order to keep the peace, only chaos and with it war.”

“Sounds like an apt summary for what we are trying to do,” Iskat laughed blandly.

“But the Republic is not civilization,” she continued, “That… misunderstanding… is the idea the Sith so desperately peddle. The idea

that the Republic is order and civilisation, and that the Confederacy is chaos and barbarism and primitiveness and savagery because they are not the Republic. I’m sure this propaganda is of passing familiarity to you?”

The three Jedi Knights were quiet, listening intently.

“This idea is one not even the Jedi can escape,” the Jedi Master lamented, looking up the turbolift shaft, as if she could see the High Council at the very tip of the spire, “It is convincing, enticing, seductive. So much so that even Jedi Masters of the highest order have fallen for it.”

“That’s Palpatine’s final trap for the galaxy,” Adi Gallia finished, “To make the idea of civilization so palatable that everyone would be eager to swallow even his version of it. That’s why he puppets this war.”

“Then… then what?” Bode demanded, “We destroy civilization? Is that what we are doing?”

Adi Gallia sighed like a teacher whose student didn’t absorb her teachings, “No, Bode. Only this civilization. We are going to tear it apart so horribly until not even the Sith can put it back together and necromance it into a dark facsimile to lord over.”

“Stop loving the Republic–unlike other attachments, like people and objects, it will not ever return the favour. Love civilization instead, the civilization that can coexist with others, the civilization can prosper in order and peace and burn in chaos and war. The civilization that can pick up its pieces on its own and put itself together no matter how many times it falls apart. If that exists, then it means the people still hold onto hope, and the galaxy is still moving forward, not stagnating like this rotten corpse we call the Republic.”

She summoned the turbolift, and entered its capsule, “You have your stations. Bode, return to Republic Intelligence and monitor the situation. Barriss, you will remain here in the Temple as our insurance in case anything goes wrong. Iskat, your skills will be best put to work with me on the field. We pull this off well, and we kill the Sith without any need for a civil war. Any last objections?”

The three Knights shook their heads. Adi Gallia smiled. They have collected all the cards in their hands, and every front has been accounted for. Their final assault on the fortress of the Sith would come from all directions. All the cards were in their hand… and now it was time to throw it on the table, and hope for the best.

“Then may the Force be with you, no matter where you may wander,” she wished them the old adage, and they responded in kind.

The doors slammed shut. It would be the last time the four of them would be together in one place ever again.

⁂

Argazda Orbit, Argazziis System

Kanz Sector

My datapad pinged, a notification popping up. I read it, one ear listening to the Skakoan’s maintenance report.

“My engineers estimate will be able to operate Number One again in three hours,” Bunt Dantor informed me.

I resisted the urge to rub my face. Is it the gun, or is it the Techno Union? It took five standard days to silently travel from Korphir to Argazda, and in the entirety of that time Number One was under repairs. One week of downtime between shots! Practically 125 hour reload cycle! What kind of batshit insane weapons engineer thought this was acceptable!? Oh wait, he was standing right in front of me!

Taking a blank expression as a cue to continue, the Skakoan scientist coughed through his pressure suit, “Now that we have calibrated the weapon’s highest output shot, we can calculate the most optimal energy input to balance power and efficacy.”

Ah, I see. So they effectively overpowered the first shot to use it as a constant variable from which they could calibrate the guns. I wonder why they didn’t do that while the ship was under construction… or was that the very first time Conqueress’ fired? The notion sent shivers down my spine. What if something had gone wrong? I was half urged to ask, but decided it would be better for my health to remain ignorant.

Fuck. I should change flagships.

But to what? A Givin Wavecrest?

“We will need a larger sample size to continue optimising the firing cycle, however,” Bunt Dantor continued, ignorant of my inner panic, “If we had been able to analyse the results back at–”

“We fired a single round,” I interrupted him, “A single round at an interdiction nexus. It would be hubris to assume an entire fleet could be destroyed in the fallout, as had been stationed in Korphir. And, if I had reviewed this ship correctly, I recall that Conqueress is woefully deprived of close combat weaponry.”

“Well, that’s because–”

“Yes, yes, superweapon and all that,” I waved him off, standing up slowly, “All superweapons must have an obvious weakpoint, I am well aware of that design philosophy.”

“Pardon–”

“Thank you for your report, chief,” I smiled at the Skakoan, “Please keep up the good work. I am counting on you.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Bunt Dantor staggered–as much as he could stagger in his metal coffin–but bent stiffly nonetheless, “I am at your service, Admiral.”

As he returned to his station, I headed toward the rear of the bridge, where a short corridor connected the pilothouse to the Combat Information Center. And aboard Conqueress, the CIC was nothing short of monumental–larger, even, than the command spaces on most Providence-class battlecruisers. Of course, it had to be. Conqueress was a dedicated long-range artillery and command platform, designed to operate from the rear of any fleet action, far from direct fire.

Everything about her design revolved around that role; her entire superstructure housed expansive intelligence and targeting systems, all required to coordinate and accurately land the titanic strikes from her main battery. Entering her CIC felt like stepping into a digital brain; a seamless, multilevel network of data links, sensor feeds, and targeting arrays, orchestrated to project her fire across impossible distances with ruthless precision. For a ship like this, a state-of-the-art combat nerve centre wasn’t just expected–it was essential.

And that also meant a communications and electronic warfare suite that would put even the latest Munificents to shame. Again, it was all but necessary to her survival on the battlefield.

I found Augur at one of those stations. He had summoned me here, after all.

What I wasn’t expecting, however, was the details upon his console. A familiar silhouette shone there, shaped like a finned dagger. Below read: Munificent-class frigate, Repulse. Briefly, I wonder where that old friend of mine was now. A Sullustan breaking yard, most likely. It was a bitter thought.

“She was my old flagship,” I pulled a nearby chair over, taking a seat next to the droid, “Something about her sparked your interest?”

“Statement: I must know about my commander to synergise with them and dispatch orders effectively,” Augur did not divert his photorecepting gaze, “This is necessary homework.”

I smiled wanly, though he could not see. Silly droid, you will always synergise with me. It was never my concern.

“Indeed?” I raised an eyebrow, “Ask away.”

Augur closed the window, “Clarification: this is not the matter I called you for, Admiral.”

I did not respond.

“However,” his facsimile of a mouth flashed with light as he articulated the syllables, “I must admit something drew me to Repulse.”

I laughed out loud, catching the attention of some nearby droids. That’s because you served aboard it, I answered in my head, only with a different name. Alas, the Confederacy’s new super tactical droids had so much more advanced personality matrices than their older cousins. I received Augur on the day I stepped aboard Conqueress, and intended to overwrite his personality matrix with the memory bank I had on hand… but in the end that data had been absorbed instead, rather than overwriting Augur.

I had been warned that super tactical droids were quite… temperamental, and fiercely protective of their personality matrix, so I didn’t press the issue, nor inform Augur about it. Not that it mattered, I quite liked the outcome, that mix of familiarity and new advancement. The best of both worlds, I had decided, and not worth tampering with.

“Maybe the synergy you are searching for is already there?” I suggested, tenderly leaning on the console to avoid toggling anything, “So, what is it?”

“Notification: new updates from PRIESTESS,” he said, bringing up another window, and I immediately sat up, spine popping as I did, “There are urgent developments in the Republic I calculate you may have a vested interest in.”

“You calculated correctly.”

“Acknowledgement: I am pleased to hear this,” Augur nodded, before continuing on, “Analysis: PRIESTESS has dispatched a manifesto to specific star systems in the Core Worlds and Mid Rim. PRIESTESS also intercepted an order for reinforcements to armies along the Hydian Way.”

I patiently waited for him to sift through the material.

“I have linked this information to a separate announcement; the Jedi Expeditionary Fleet has departed Coruscant, and is bound for Serenno.”

“How many,” I murmured–so they’ve begun, and the die is cast–lost in thought, “And how long?”

“Analsysis: one-thousand capital ships, five-thousand escorts, and five-thousand troopships,” Augur answered, “They will proceed Rimward on the Hydian Way, reinforcing the invasion fleet with even more ships and soldiers. The earliest they will reach Serenno is in twenty-four days, by the swiftest pace.”

Ten-thousand warships. Ten-thousand warships. Ten-thousand warships.

The Republic really pulled out all the stops this time, haven’t they?

And we only had a month to prepare–maybe over a month, if the Expeditionary Fleet takes their time. Fortunately, PRIESTESS was well-integrated into the Confederacy’s intelligence network, and anything I knew would also be known to Star Station Independence.

The question is: what should I do? Ten-thousand warships and countless soldiers were descending on Serenno, determined to seize it for the Republic. Was that acceptable to Independence, or were we aiming to take Serenno for ourselves? And would we have enough time?

I quickly ran the calculations in my head. Getting to Gravlex Med and back wouldn’t be simple. The Celanon Spur was the most direct route, but it was embroiled in a vicious campaign between Loyalist forces and the Serenno-aligned Separatists. That meant our only real option was the longer detour–the Veragi Trade Route. Stretching far north through the New Territories and hugging the edge of the galactic spiral, its course was painfully indirect, strung along isolated civilizations, and designed to avoid the vast expanse of the Chopani Void–a barren, sprawling gap between two galactic arms. Nothing lay within it. No planets, no stars. Just emptiness.

Ironically, ships dared not cross it despite its lack of hazard; the risk of anything going wrong was, frankly, terminal.

Fifteen days to reach Gravlex Med via the Veragi Trade Route, nine or ten if we push the Givin. Another fifteen to return. Factor in how long we will be sojourning at Gravlex Med–days, possibly–for the retrofit and…

We would miss the entire campaign.

What to do, what to do… I could feel Augur’s gaze levelled on me intensely.

“...Can we reach Independence from here?” I asked, masking the unsurety I felt.

“Assessment: that possibility is highly unlikely.”

I mulled over the options a little longer, fingers drumming steadily on the console. It would not be unreasonable to just continue with the mission, but… it’s the endgame now. Both the Jedi and the Sith have tossed the coin, each betting it would fall in their favour–and this was my one chance to snatch it out of the air. I couldn’t exactly let the opportunity slip… unless of course, the CAF had a plan of their own.

Therefore, it would be sensible to first confirm the situation with Star Station Independence. But how? We were deep behind enemy lines, and all the communication transceivers in the area belonged to Serenno or Coruscant. To reach friendly CAF space, I would practically need my own secret personal transceiver network…

An old memory then struck like a KKV right out of Conqueress’ maw. An old, nearly forgotten memory. Hold on, don’t I have my own secret personal transceiver network!?

Where are we right now? In Serenno’s backyard!

The same backyard where I planted dozens of spy frigates in black with every intention of spying on Serenno’s communications to report back to me! They had been replaced by PRIESTESS, but it wasn’t like they could have gone anywhere. If they had been organically crewed, they would all be lost by now, the stuff of legends, a ghost fleet drifting aimlessly… but they were droid crewed. The question now was: did they have enough fuel to survive until now?

That, I could not be certain. The most energy intensive task of any starship was propulsion, but these spy frigates haven’t gone anywhere. Their only active systems were their intelligence and communication suites–suites that have been running non-stop for two years. But there was a chance, and it was a chance I was quite willing to take.

“Navigation,” I called over my shoulder, glancing at the astrogation station behind me, “Project time frames. Factor in the maximum speed at each major junction, push fuel usage where necessary, short-cut the Veragi Route if need be. I want a hypothetical timeline to hit Gravlex Med and return within twenty days.”

“Roger roger,” came the response, the droid’s voice wary, yet efficient. He likely knew what an impossible task I was asking, but he was a droid, so he’d try anyway.

The console in front of me started displaying coordinates and rough figures from the navigator. Fifteen days cut down to twelve with optimum speeds and ideal conditions. But it was still too long. I cursed under my breath. Augur’s metallic frame shifted slightly, as though to remind me he was still waiting.

He had no need for sleep, no tolerance for delay, and no time for hesitations. And I could feel every judgmental micro-expression his droid face might’ve allowed.

“Nevermind that, then,” I muttered. Looks like I’ll have to dig through my memory banks to recall all my spy frigates. Unfortunately, I was human, so my memory was far from perfect. Fortunately, I had a droid with me who had perfect memory, and had just so inherited the memory of all the frigate locations.

“Augur…” I said slowly, “We’re going to need to dig inside your brain for a bit.”

⁂

“Master Plo Koon will lead the Expeditionary Fleet over Serenno,” Jedi Master Mace Windu told the High Council, “And I will lead the ground forces onto the planet. Are we agreed on this matter?”

A round of affirmations swept through the arranged seats, a gathering of the wisest and venerable, and vaunted Jedi Masters in the galaxy planning the final strike against their old enemy. The plan was sound. Master Windu was one of few in the Jedi Order with the skill and expertise to defeat Count Dooku in a straight lightsaber duel, where the Sith Lord would surely play to his strengths. Meanwhile, as one of the Temple’s–nay, the Republic’s–best admirals, Master Plo would engage and occupy Serenno’s starfleet in orbit.

The grim sternness of the Jedi Master moved onto Master Gallia, “Master Gallia, you will remain on Coruscant with Master Stass Allie and Master Shaak Ti. Master Yoda will also remain on Coruscant to counter the Sith Lord once he is exposed. The Sith–Master and Apprentice–are now both accounted for.”

“We must prepare for the worst,” Master Kenobi ran a hand through his beard, “We must expect some sort of trickery from the Sith. They won’t go down this easily.”

“We will counter whatever Dooku has in store for us at Serenno,” the reticent Master Saesee Tiin stated firmly, “The Expeditionary Fleet will be the largest gathering of Jedi Masters and Knights since the Battle of Geonosis.”

“I concur,” Master Kit Fisto was serious, his usual breezy attitude replaced by one might be called proper for a Jedi of his calibre, “We are no longer new to war. The Masters and Knights in the Expeditionary Fleet are veterans, the best of the best.”

The best of the best. If they were talking about the best of the best… then wasn’t there one Jedi conspicuously missing? Or rather, one Jedifleet?

Anakin Skywalker’s Open Circle Fleet. The best of the best.

“And what of… young Skywalker?” Mace Windu articulated the name as if it pained him to admit that no Jedi expedition would be complete without him, “His presence would be a great boon to us at Serenno.”

“At war,” Master Shaak Ti answered simply.

A sinister wind swept through the Council Chamber, one that might have been reserved for mention of the Dark Lord of the Sith. No, the very words ‘at war’ was enough to prickle the skin and tighten the throat. They all knew why the Open Circle Fleet was occupied.

“Anakin and Scout…” Master Obi-Wan Kenobi elaborated, “...are still occupied in the southern front, defending against Horn Ambigene’s invasion of the Republic.”

One might have once called the Battle Hydra’s Operation Starlance the invasion of the Republic, and nobody would have faulted them for it. In fact, one might have once called the Pantoran’s Sarapin Campaign the invasion of the Republic, and nobody would have faulted them for it. Everyone would now. Now that the Separatist Alliance has shown them what a real invasion should look like. Mere raids would never be mistaken for an invasion ever again.

Tens of thousands upon tens of thousands of warships.

Hundreds of millions upon hundreds of millions of soldiers.

All crashing Coreward in an unstoppable avalanche that took the full might of not one, two, three, but four Sector Armies to fight–and struggle–against their unrelenting advance. Operation Starlance was a nail that pierced the Republic’s side, but Horn Ambigene was the hammer that pounded it into the anvil. The Grand Army liked to say that Horn Ambigene had been beaten back eight times because eight battles had been fought at Wroona, but that framing of events was simply to make the situation palatable to the masses.

An invasion cannot be beaten back eight times. If it could, it couldn’t be called an invasion. An invasion occurs once, and succeeds or fails once. That is a simple military premise. No, Horn Ambigene’s invasion was still ongoing. Across hundreds of star systems, and thousands of planets. It was a brutal back and forth, an ongoing struggle to prevent the Tombmaker from taking another step forward. Both sides are spent, both sides are faltering.

But the Tombmaker did not earn his frightful moniker by being dissuaded by some strong defences.

Master Kenobi took a deep breath, “Anakin’s latest report–”

“More reinforcements, I must presume?” Master Windu leaned forward.

“More soldiers, more ships, more equipment, more bacta, more Jedi,” Master Kenobi grimaced.

“Well, we can’t afford to send anymore Jedi,” Master Shaak Ti mused, “We have committed every available Jedi on Coruscant towards the final assault against Serenno.”

“Master Aayla Secura is dead,” Obi-Wan Kenobi gritted his teeth, “Along with fifteen other Jedi Knights we sent to the southern front. Horn Ambigene had bombarded six more Loyalist strongholds since the campaign began, excluding Eriadu. Suffice to say, Anakin will not be joining us.”

Adi Gallia couldn’t even feel it anymore. The death of her friend, the razing of six more planets. The Force was still, like a stagnant pond of water, with neither energy nor motivation to flow. She only felt numb.

“One with the Force, Master Secura is,” Master Yoda finally said, gripping his cane tightly as he met the eyes of every member of the Jedi High Council, “Bring justice to the Sith, we will. End the war, end the suffering, we must.”

Jedi Master Adi Gallia stood up, “The galaxy’s eyes are set upon us. Every action we take in this Serenno Campaign will reflect on the entirety of the Jedi Order. We must not fail, for we cannot afford to.”

One by one, the Jedi Masters of the High Council rose to their feet.

“Then– may the Force be with us all.”

It was the twilight of the fourteenth year since the Great ReSynchronization, and in another galaxy, the closing months of 21 BBY. On Coruscant, millions of eyes lifted skyward from the spires and balconies, terraces and towers, watching the grand ascent of the Jedi Expeditionary Fleet. One by one, colossal capital ships rose from the crowded naval yards nestled between skyscrapers, filling the sky with armoured hulls and engine thrusters. One-thousand warships surged upward all across the city-planet’s distant horizons, joining in an orderly spiral as they climbed for orbit. Around them, swarms of escort ships and troopships of every class and size darted like schools of fish in orbit, consolidating from every yard across the expansive capital star system.

One-hundred Jedi Masters, four-hundred Knights and Padawans. Ten-thousand starships of every shape and size. One-hundred and fifty million soldiers, both veterans and fresh faces alike; including ten-million elite cloned troopers stationed across every Jedi flagship, all veterans who had weathered countless campaigns across the stars, marshalled once more to bear the Republic’s banner.

The Expeditionary Fleet would rendezvous with reinforcements from every Sector Army along the way, consolidating their numbers before mounting the grand undertaking toward the Confederate heartland. Their objective lay up the Hydian Way, through the harsh defences of Separatist-held systems, with their final aim set on Serenno itself–the stronghold of the archenemy of the Republic. It would be an offensive to rival that of Operation Trident and Operation Storm-Door.

Jedi Masters Yoda, Shaak Ti, Adi Gallia, and Stass Allie solemnly watched the lines of shimmering warships ascend past layers of clouds and disappear into the darkness of space. Below, Coruscant’s citizens gathered in squares and on rooftops, some in salute, others caught up in fervent cheer, many with a question–how many of our sons and daughters will die this time?–and all clutching awe to their chests.

May the Force be with you.

Whichever face the coin lands on… it would be the last and greatest offensive of the Galactic Republic.