Grand Admiral

Nine years, nine months, and fifteen days after the Battle of Yavin… 

Or forty-four years, nine months, and fifteen days after the Great Resynchronization. 

(Four months and thirty-five days since arrival). 

For millennia, the production of weapons in all their forms, particularly on an industrial scale, necessitates a reliable supply of resources. 

In the case of the Balmorrans, these resources were quite literally at their doorstep. 

The Balmorra system comprises six planets, only two of which—Balmorra and Nevuta—are habitable. 

The latter was once home to a native species of the same name, but over four thousand years ago, during the Mandalorian Crusades, settlers from Balmorra scoured Nevuta's surface, systematically eradicating the local population with ruthless efficiency. 

The enterprising Balmorrans transformed Nevuta into a colony. However, it now serves less as a resort destination for affluent Balmorrans and more as a storage facility—a metaphorical "balcony" where obsolete equipment is stowed. Much like old skis, a child's sled, or a vintage "Ocean" refrigerator that still functions despite the occasional electric shock, these items are not entirely useless, merely awaiting rediscovery. 

Nevuta is not solely a repository for outdated machinery. It also houses production facilities for legacy technology, which, despite its age, remains in demand among certain clientele. 

Yet, it undeniably functions as a warehouse for obsolete relics. 

The Balmorrans' greater interest in Nevuta lies in its extensive mining operations, extracting vast quantities of valuable minerals. These operations extend to the system's four uninhabited planets and the four moons orbiting Balmorra itself. 

In essence, the entire system is a colossal reservoir of resources, continuously funneled to the system's central hub—Balmorra, the planet-factory. 

The history of this world is compelling, particularly its betrayal of the Old Republic during the conflict with the Sith Empire over three thousand years ago. However, such ancient disputes are irrelevant to the present. 

The Dominion's presence here is not driven by historical grievances but by a far more tangible objective. 

The planet's history is intricately tied to the output of Balmorran Arms, a company headquartered on Balmorra, with its cutting-edge production facilities located on the planet. While Nevuta offers a glimpse into ancient history and outdated industry, my interest in Balmorra stems from its recent past—specifically, the last thirty to fifty years. 

Before the Clone Wars, Balmorra and Balmorran Arms were part of the Techno Union, a future member of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. The planet produced vast numbers of B-1 battle droids. As the Separatist Crisis escalated, preceding the Clone Wars, Balmorra had no intention of seceding from the Galactic Republic. However, with the outbreak of the conflict, Republic forces attempted to shut down the battle droid factories, committing what could be considered the cardinal sin of capitalism: halting a highly profitable enterprise. 

The response was swift. By the end of the twenty-second year before the Battle of Yavin IV, in the first year of the war, Balmorra seceded from the Galactic Republic. 

The Confederacy of Independent Systems promptly deployed a fleet of Providence-class dreadnoughts to protect the planet. Positioned near industrial giants like Hambarine and Kuat, Balmorra became a significant source of tension, supplying the Confederacy with an extensive array of weaponry. 

The "assortment" of products from Balmorra's arms manufacturers was vast. 

The outcome of this orchestrated war is well-known. With the establishment of the New Order, the Galactic Empire, with its stringent control over arms production, swiftly subdued the Balmorrans. 

Under the New Order, an Imperial governor oversaw the planet and its production. During Emperor Palpatine's reign, Balmorrans manufactured weapons for the Imperial Army. In collaboration with Kuat Drive Yards, particularly after the mothballing of Rothana Heavy Engineering's facilities, Balmorrans became the primary producers of AT-ST scout walkers. Additionally, the planet housed factories for various AT-AT models and most other armored and ground vehicles used by the Galactic Empire's armed forces. 

Following the Battle of Endor, the Rebel Alliance aided the Balmorrans in breaking free from Imperial influence. With the proclamation of the New Republic and its core principles, the dreams of local arms magnates were realized. 

The New Republic imposed no controls on arms production or trade, opting to leverage this revenue stream from member planets to bolster its budget. 

However, arms manufacturers are astute sentients, reluctant to share their profits. This is especially true when one possesses factories producing military equipment in demand across the galaxy. 

Consequently, major producers like Kuat, Fondor, and others, while part of the New Republic, operated under special conditions. 

The New Republic's enrichment plan developed a slight crack, through which its economy faltered. 

Just weeks ago, Balmorra, maintaining its neutrality, secured substantial contracts with the New Republic for the production and maintenance of Imperial and other military equipment. 

A convenient arrangement, to be sure. 

However, prior to the Battle of Coruscant, I announced strikes not only on New Republic military targets but also on those of their allies. 

Balmorra is a legitimate target and will remain so, whether its residents wish to see Star Destroyers in their skies or not. 

*** 

Ion cannons blazed with bluish-white fire, searing the deflector shields of an aging Imperial light cruiser, forcing the nimble Arquitens-class vessel to retreat beyond dangerous range. 

Yet, it and its five sister ships, having endured the barrage from Abyssal Fury's gunners, rapidly disengaged, only to execute a maneuver to reposition and alter their attack vector. 

The cycle repeated again and again. 

The Arquitens-class light cruiser, while swift, is a relative term. Compared to TIE Interceptors, which clashed with Nevuta's planetary defense fighters, the Arquitens ships were sluggish and cumbersome. 

Nevertheless, their laser cannons and handful of turbolasers could inflict significant damage, relentlessly peppering the Star Destroyer and its escorts. 

The commander of the Abyssal Fury formation faced a dilemma: destroy these innocuous yet persistently irritating Arquitens cruisers or continue ignoring them until the trap was fully sprung. 

The first option would allow an immediate transition to landing operations on Nevuta. The second offered the prospect of capturing five trophy ships. 

True, Arquitens cruisers are no Bellator-class dreadnoughts or Vindicator-class heavy cruisers, but they are trophies nonetheless. 

Captain Shohashi's promotion, earned by risking his ship but securing a swift Bellator-class dreadnought and an entire squadron of Star Destroyers, had left no one in the Dominion fleet indifferent. 

Naturally, the "Butcher of Atoan" inspired envy—some genuine, some begrudging. Some celebrated Shohashi's success, while others dreamed of replicating it, earning another colored bar on their command insignia. 

In the Imperial Starfleet, one could command the same vessel for a decade without advancing to a Star Destroyer's bridge. In the Dominion, despite its smaller fleet compared to the Galactic Empire, career progression was not an issue. 

Currently, Star Destroyer commanders, effectively leading formations, received higher salaries than before and performed commodore duties. 

There was little doubt that promotions would soon follow. 

The pragmatic nature of a fleet commander could not simply overlook five potential trophies by opening fire to destroy them. Moreover, Arquitens cruisers were respectable ships—fast, maneuverable, requiring minimal crew, and capable of retracting their artillery into the hull. They could enter planetary atmospheres without catastrophic consequences, unlike Imperial-class Star Destroyers. 

This allowed them to support ground assaults, neutralize fortified positions, and suppress enemy artillery. 

However, the Oath demanded a different approach from Captain Stormaer regarding these planetary defense vessels. 

The Grand Admiral had assigned his formation a clear objective: seize specific assets on the planet. Mothballed equipment needed to be extracted by any means, and stormtroopers aboard Abyssal Fury were growing restless. 

— To all ships in the formation, — Stormaer activated his communicator. — Switch to turbolaser fire. Suppress enemy vessels by all available means. 

The battle's rhythm shifted. 

Abyssal Fury ceased toying with the cruisers, methodically targeting their deflectors with single turbolaser shots, salvos from medium turbolasers, and ion cannon barrages. 

Heavy cruisers, forming a pincer around their lighter counterparts, unleashed their blister turrets, transforming the localized sector around the five Arquitens cruisers into a true battlefield. 

— So much potential wasted, — Stormaer muttered, watching as his formation's corvettes obliterated one cruiser's superstructure with concentrated fire. Moments later, two of its three sublight engines succumbed, turning the ship into a blazing torch with a burning stern, tumbling toward the blockade. 

A central engine exploded, tearing apart the cruiser's rear hemisphere and exposing its vulnerable interior. 

The crew likely clung to hopes of salvation, but with shattered engines, escape was impossible. 

Attempting to board it would be a futile waste of time—an encumbrance, not a trophy. 

Abyssal Fury struck relentlessly, hammering turbolaser energy into its adversaries' hulls. 

Armor plating tore, and fiery pillars marked hits on critical systems. One Arquitens, attempting to slip beneath the Star Destroyer's hull while unleashing its full arsenal, found itself ensnared by tractor beams. 

Abyssal Fury's port batteries greeted the trapped vessel with a near point-blank salvo, inflicting catastrophic damage. The cruiser's light artillery and retractable turbolaser turrets were obliterated by a bluish-green wave, exposing compartments and offering gunners a rare view of the enemy's interior—a maelstrom of escaping atmosphere, crew bodies, and debris. 

— Landing parties, prepare, — Stormaer barked into the comm. — Portside artillery, switch to ion cannons. Tractor beam operators, maintain control of the enemy light cruiser until our forces secure it. 

Perhaps he wouldn't claim all five Arquitens cruisers, but one was certain—maybe two or three. 

Far ahead, blinding flashes illuminated Abyssal Fury's bow, coinciding with the commander's rueful sigh. 

One trophy it is, then. 

A ground operation awaited, with potential for further spoils. 

*** 

Chimaera maneuvered into its designated orbit around Balmorra's closest moon. 

I observed as an Acclamator-class assault ship, escorted by a Strike-class medium cruiser, approached the small, lifeless celestial body. 

This trophy group's mission mirrored those of three others: seize ores and metals mined and prepared for shipment to Balmorra. 

Similar trophy groups, each comprising a Victory-class Star Destroyer escorted by two Acclamators, were dispatched to the system's four uninhabited planets, where Balmorran mining complexes operated, supported by light forces. 

While not critically dependent on external resource reserves, underestimating the New Republic's Joint Command's scrutiny of this operation would be unwise. 

My actions may have temporarily disrupted and disoriented them, but sentient adaptability to changing environments is remarkable. Soon, the New Republic will devise countermeasures against me. 

The more disinformation they receive regarding the Dominion's true capabilities, the better. When Coruscant regains control of its orbit—and it will, though not without difficulty—its commanders will question why, beyond Balmorra's factories and equipment, I also seized metal reserves. 

Let them conclude that the Dominion faces significant resource extraction challenges. This will aid in misrepresenting our combat readiness. 

The New Republic may currently lag in certain areas, but they will soon identify weaknesses in my strategy and attempt a counterstrike using acquired intelligence. 

Whether anyone survived Home One is irrelevant. Assume the enemy knows of Guardian's existence. Thus, we must repair and deploy it swiftly, with adequate escorts. 

Analyzing the destruction of Executor-class super Star Destroyers reveals they fell to Rebel or New Republic light forces or sabotage. Large-scale battles between ships of this or similar classes were rare post-Endor. 

Standard raiding operations against enemy convoys have faded, slightly earlier than anticipated. 

Keeping Red Dragon and other Sunburn project ships hidden indefinitely is impractical. At best, we can conceal their numbers. 

Moreover, I must devise tactics to counter such weapons. My demonstration of ion cannons mounted on starships may prompt the New Republic's Joint Command to develop similar systems. By the time of Palpatine's invasion, they might field a few such vessels. 

Though, perhaps I'm overly optimistic. 

Nevertheless, the critical timeline approaches. 

Stakes rise daily, necessitating accelerated execution of certain plan elements. 

Efforts to bolster the Dominion's defenses proceed apace, but constructing a state—new factories, bases, and mines—requires more. Prisoners wielding pickaxes on third-rate planets, clearing forests, or draining swamps are useful, particularly in demonstrating their government's disregard for its captured soldiers. 

However, such efforts won't suffice to build all I envision by Palpatine's invasion. 

Thus, the operation to secure production means and assets proceeds on two fronts. 

Confiscation of Imperial technologies, factories, and warships by the regular fleet is well-known. 

The second front—Captain Hoffner's legitimate arms and technology purchases for planets unaffiliated with him—I keep discreet. 

Balmorra falls under the first category, necessitating a military operation. 

While corvettes and gunboats pursued fleeing Balmorran transports across the system, Chimaera, escorted by four Victory-class Star Destroyers, ten Dreadnought-class heavy cruisers, and an equal number of CR90 corvettes, covered ten Acclamator-class assault ships serving as armed transports, tightening a cosmic noose around the planet-factory. 

To be candid, what awaited was not a battle or skirmish but a slaughter. 

The opposing forces were not even a rearguard—merely potential casualties of their own folly. 

Seven Kaloth-class battlecruisers—bulky, well-armed, but incapable of halting our assault group's advance to the planet-factory's orbit, defended by five Golan II stations. 

Forty-four turbolasers, twenty-four laser cannons, and a dozen fighters per Kaloth. Formidable armament, but only against those lacking a Star Destroyer. 

For Dreadnoughts, a Kaloth poses a threat in one-on-one combat, likely sustaining damage incompatible with further mission objectives. 

However, I had no intention of allowing such a matchup, where a Dreadnought's turbolaser count is outmatched by over double. 

— Captain, — I addressed Pellaeon, — are the ships prepared for battle? 

— Affirmative, sir, — Pellaeon confirmed. — It almost feels… regrettable to obliterate these opponents. They're merely doing their duty. 

— As are we all, Captain, — I reminded him. — But you're correct. We will first declare our intentions. Given that our prior warning reached only Coruscant's populace due to a sector relay blackout, the Balmorrans deserve a choice: fight recklessly or surrender what we require. Broadcast the ultimatum I issued to Coruscant, the New Republic, and Balmorra, with redactions. Mr. Ghent should have prepared the dissemination version. 

— They may call for reinforcements, — Pellaeon noted. — Kuat and Hambarine are not far. 

— Three days, Captain, — I stated. — That's the time required for the nearest allies to reach Balmorra. By then, we'll have departed with what we need. No one but those loyal to the Empire and Dominion may hold Imperial property, and even then, only temporarily. 

*** 

The Balmorran defense fleet's advance spoke volumes. 

The Grand Admiral's warning, coupled with a demand for surrender, yielded no constructive response. 

The Kaloths surged forward, deploying aging Headhunter Z-95s, AF-4 variants—the last of their series, built by Incom Corporation before the Clone Wars, where they proved their mettle. 

These fighters served the Empire briefly post-New Order but were relegated to the periphery, used by rebels, pirates, and privateers. 

It was peculiar to see such relics defending a renowned planet-factory. Pirates or privateers might rely on such outdated craft, but Balmorrans? 

My gaze drifted to the Kaloths' gray hulls, where fresh paint obscured something—perhaps insignia. The rest of the hulls bore the scars of time and wear. 

Lieutenant Jainer suddenly realized the implication. 

— Gray Leader to Chimaera OCC, — he activated the comm channel to the flagship's Operations Control Center. 

— OCC, go ahead. 

— I suspect Balmorra is defended by mercenaries, — Jainer stated. For pirates, corsairs, and mercenaries, painting emblems on ships is common—a mark of affiliation. Pirates often favored claw motifs. — These ships are too old for a planet-factory. Hulls show signs of painted-over emblems, likely faction insignia. 

Silence followed, then a response: 

— Information received, Gray Leader. Continue your assigned mission. 

— Acknowledged, — Jainer sighed, easing the control yoke forward, leading his squadron into the lower echelon. 

What had he expected? 

A mere observation, unlikely to alter the mission's outcome. 

It was merely food for thought: why would a planet-factory, with profits in the billions, hire external forces instead of maintaining its own fleet? They had Golan stations, so security forces existed. 

Perhaps they economized on a dedicated flotilla, or it wasn't ready for combat. 

Let command ponder that. His and his pilots' task was clear: eliminate these elusive mercenaries and prevent attacks on Dominion ships. 

His TIE Interceptor sliced through two Headhunters like a vibroblade through butter. The mercenaries, belatedly realizing an enemy had slipped into their rear, began to turn, firing laser cannons at nearby Dominion interceptors. 

Gray Wing retaliated. Two pairs of interceptors targeted the Headhunters. Standard tactics against shielded ships: one distracts, the other strips defenses. 

While the enemy was preoccupied, Jainer and his wingman executed a turn, hammering the shields and hulls of both targets with precise cannon fire. 

Twin flashes erupted—two "bandits" dispatched to their mercenary afterlife. 

Jainer's interceptor darted through the explosions, banking to evade another Headhunter's fire. Other pilots intercepted the pursuer, shaking it off their commander's tail. 

The maneuver brought Jainer and Gray Two beneath a Kaloth, which was engaging a nearby Dominion heavy cruiser. The mercenary cruiser's gunners were alert, swiveling turrets toward the TIE Interceptors. 

The onboard computer signaled a target lock. 

— Break left, — Jainer ordered, dodging a laser cannon's beam. 

He threw his craft into a dizzying spin, evading the cruiser's fire as two Headhunters opened up on his tail. 

Nothing new—shaking such pursuers was routine. 

Jainer yanked the yoke, simulating an ascending loop. His wingman stayed glued to his tail. 

Sensors showed the mercenaries mimicking the maneuver, relying on repulsors rather than main thrusters. 

— Prepare for deceleration and pivot, — Jainer instructed his wingman. — Now! 

He cut the engines, letting the enemy track his trajectory. The TIE Interceptor flipped, its four cannons unleashing a barrage on one Headhunter's shields. 

His wingman mirrored the maneuver with precision, lagging only a moment. Eight cannons reduced the first Headhunter to debris. 

The second wisely switched to main thrusters and fled. Both interceptors pursued, probing the Incom craft's shields with short bursts. 

A flash caught Jainer's eye. Turning, he saw the Kaloth's port side ablaze, a Scimitar assault bomber streaking away, leaving a gaping wound in the cruiser's hull. 

Executing a combat turn, Jainer locked onto an enemy fighter via sensors. 

The Headhunter veered right, evading fire and attempting a barrel roll to gain Jainer's tail. 

Audacious. 

Jainer, suppressing nausea, mirrored the maneuver, cursing his inertial compensator's suboptimal setting. 

For seconds, the adversaries spiraled in a classic "carousel," each vying for a firing solution. His wingman, attempting to assist, was drawn into a duel with another foe. 

As his stomach churned, the mercenary broke, bolting straight, banking on engine speed. 

Jainer, breathing deeply and maxing the compensator, gave chase. 

Internal organs settled, though the taste of bile lingered. 

A lesson for next time. 

The enemy zigzagged like a drunken tauntaun, to no avail. 

Contacting a nearby bomber squadron's commander, Jainer offered a kill. Fighter and interceptor pilots racked up kills regularly, but bombers, less agile, targeted larger prey, rarely engaging small craft. 

— No need, — the bomber lieutenant replied. Before Jainer could retort, he clarified: 

— Third craft, lock onto Gray Leader's target. Others, finish the Kaloth. 

A noble bomber pilot. 

The comm clicked—a TIE bomber pilot calmly requested target designation. 

Jainer assigned the fleeing Headhunter and another harassing his wingman. 

— Acknowledged, — the bomber pilot replied. — Engaging. Cover? 

— Covering, — Jainer confirmed, ready to shield the bomber from opportunistic attacks. 

TIE bombers, sluggish but deadly, were vulnerable to faster craft. 

The TIE bomber didn't hesitate. Its launch cassette flared, firing three concussion missiles. The silvery-gray projectiles streaked toward the first target. 

Frantic evasion shook off one missile, but the second struck the Headhunter's cockpit, the third vaporizing the craft. 

— Engaging second target, — the bomber pilot reported, already locking onto the next. — Cover? 

— Covering, — Jainer affirmed. 

The TIE bomber fired again, its triple missile salvo reducing another Headhunter to burning debris. 

Less than thirty seconds later, his wingman rejoined, the TIE Interceptor's hull scorched but operational. 

— Thanks for the assist, — Jainer commended the bomber crew. 

— Acknowledged, — the bomber commander replied, heading toward his squadron's engagement. 

Jainer took a moment to admire the bombers' work. 

The Kaloth, crippled by the Scimitar, couldn't fend off the relentless bomber squadron. They methodically fired concussion missiles, stripping turrets and weapon systems. 

The cruiser's attempts to reposition were met with preemptive strikes, neutralizing gun emplacements. 

When a hole large enough for a corvette appeared in the Kaloth's hull, Jainer shivered. 

Bombers earned their derisive nicknames, but their efficiency was chilling. 

No pilot, however green, would envy the mercenaries whose cruiser split in half during a maneuver. 

The bombers, task complete, leisurely returned to Chimaera for rearming with proton torpedoes or concussion missiles, ready to resume dismantling the enemy. 

Fighters might down hundreds of enemy craft with speed and firepower, but bombers' single successful runs claimed far more. 

A Kaloth's crew? Jainer's computer estimated just under fifteen hundred. 

One sortie, one cruiser erased from the mercenary fleet. 

Another Kaloth burned, its bridge struck by a Scimitar's proton torpedoes. Captain Bren pressed the attack, skimming the cruiser's hull, leaving explosions in his wake. Within a minute, the Kaloth blazed from bow to stern, shuddering from internal detonations. 

Two Victory-class Star Destroyers pinned another Kaloth, turning it into a punching bag, hammering it with missile salvos it couldn't counter. 

Four heavy cruisers boxed in their prey, pummeling the engineless, smoking vessel with no intent to release it. 

Chimaera, holding another Kaloth in tractor beams, pounded it with turbolasers, shredding it from bow to stern. When it exploded, the flagship calmly shifted fire to support two heavy cruisers, catching another Kaloth in a crossfire. The mercenary ship fired back, but nothing could save it. Its engines detonated in a blinding flash. 

When the light faded, only the burning forward half remained, defenseless. A second salvo from three ships ended it swiftly. 

Jainer scanned for the seventh Kaloth and the remaining enemy fighters. He located them eighty-seven units away, their engine glows and escorts signaling a retreat rather than face certain destruction. 

Missile weaponry—concussion missiles, proton torpedoes—had long vexed Imperial forces. Now, the Dominion's regulars turned the same tactic against the enemy. 

Victory-class missile salvos? Post-Imperial-class, who took these old ships seriously? Missiles were dismissed; turbolasers were deemed the solution. 

The Galactic Empire's command, selling hundreds of Victories to the Corporate Sector or relegating them to periphery patrols, underestimated their potential. Only with the Rebel Alliance did launch systems appear on flagships, super Star Destroyers, and select dreadnoughts. 

Meanwhile, the five Golan II stations bristled with turbolasers and missile launchers, ready to meet Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet with a hail of fire. 

Now would be the moment for Red Dragon to emerge from hyperspace, obliterate the stations, board them, and haul them to the Dominion, as at Coruscant days ago. 

But Chimaera called for no such aid. 

Instead, the formidable flagship continued closing on the orbital platforms, rallying heavy cruisers and the four nearby Victories. 

— Chimaera OCC to Gray Leader, — the comm crackled. 

— Gray Leader to OCC, on comms, — Jainer responded. 

— New task assigned… 

Jainer shook his head. 

"Creb, wherever you are, you're missing epic battles. I hope you're doing something truly useful, not training pilots. The fleet can't afford to lose you." 

*** 

Eighty-six units. 

The distance between the Dominion fleet assaulting Balmorra and the Golan II orbital defense platforms. 

Five stations, each larger than any Star Destroyer in my command. 

Collectively, they boasted one hundred sixty-five turbolasers and fifty proton torpedo launchers. Standard ranges: seventy-five units for turbolasers, sixty for missiles and torpedoes. 

Standard Imperial siege tactics dictate entering turbolaser range without closing to torpedo range, battering each station's shields sequentially. 

However, each station's shields could outlast the endurance of my Star Destroyers. 

Closing to allow Victories to unleash massed salvos risks damage from kinetic projectiles—difficult, though not impossible, to intercept. 

A stray missile or torpedo could target a bridge, reactor, or hangar, potentially costing me one or more ships. 

Losses are inevitable in war—only a fool believes otherwise. 

But turning a straightforward operation into a self-inflicted defeat, with further operations in enemy territory ahead, is unacceptable. 

— Sir, the enemy is deploying fighters, — Pellaeon noted. 

— I see, — I replied, noting the captain's tension from Chimaera's bridge, as if uncertain of victory. — Are our interceptors and fighters in position? 

— Affirmative, sir, — Pellaeon confirmed. — The enemy is deploying A-9 Vigilance interceptors. 

— Costly Kuat machines with heavy armament, — I acknowledged, recalling the GoloNet pricelist from Kuat Drive Yards during Rederick and Pent's mission preparations. — Evidently, a project stalled before Endor has been revived. 

— Their turrets have a swivel mechanism, — Pellaeon added. — Their pilots don't need to tail our ships to fire; they can engage from multiple angles. The guns rotate ninety degrees horizontally and forty vertically. 

— Correct, Captain, — I confirmed. — Moreover, these machines are piloted by experienced operators familiar with the craft, negating any advantage our pilots might have against the swivel mechanism. 

The enemy fighters closed. 

Their tactic: a preemptive strike to lure us under the stations' fire, goading us into pursuit. At long range, the Golan stations could severely damage our fighters, let alone our Star Destroyers and cruisers. 

— We have minutes before engagement, Captain, — I said. — Let us analyze our adversary. 

Pellaeon paused. 

— Their ships lack hyperdrives, — he observed, recognizing this was no idle exercise. 

— Correct, — I affirmed. — They're also exorbitantly priced compared to Imperial equivalents, costing nearly two hundred thousand credits. Yet, Kuat's engineers omitted deflector shields, ejection systems, and launchers. 

— They have life support systems, — Pellaeon countered. 

— True, — I agreed. — But a pilot's suit, like those used by our or Republic pilots, would be preferable. What use is life support if a ship is hit and the pilot, without an ejection system or protective gear, cannot escape? 

— Their speed is high, — Pellaeon noted. 

— Higher than a standard TIE Interceptor, — I conceded. — But this, like the swivel turrets, drives up costs. This is why these otherwise excellent interceptors, in production before Endor, never replaced the TIE series. 

— Some Imperial Remnants procure them, — Pellaeon remarked. 

— Indeed, — I agreed. — Cut off from Lianna, they cannot standardize their fleets, resorting to whatever's available. But a frontline craft shouldn't be overly expensive, even if easy to pilot. Costs for parts and technical expertise escalate exponentially. 

— True, sir, but how does this knowledge help us neutralize them and assault the platforms? — Pellaeon inquired. 

— We must study the ships and fighters our enemies deploy, — I stated instructively. — Today, they aim to provoke a chase, luring us under the stations' fire. But their limited procurement—only two squadrons per station—thwarts their plan. 

— What countermeasures will we employ? — Pellaeon pressed. — Their interceptors will be hard to eliminate, especially with their deflector shield raised, — he gestured to Balmorra's pale-yellow planetary shield. — Even if we breach it, it'll be a prolonged siege. 

— No need to eliminate them prematurely, — I replied, pointing as our CR90 corvettes advanced to meet ten enemy squadrons. — We'll neutralize the second part of their plan. Several tactics are currently in play. First, observe the Scimitar striking the first station's hangar with proton torpedoes. Then, watch as ion cannons disable the others. 

— But Red Dragon isn't in this operation, — Pellaeon noted. 

— Who said our ion cannons would fire? — I replied, feigning surprise. 

Pellaeon's expression was priceless. 

*** 

Manufactured by Kuat Drive Yards, the v-150 Planet Defender ion cannon was a sophisticated, high-tech complex. 

This massive weapon, with an autonomous power supply, was designed to neutralize starships in high planetary orbit. Typically mounted on a rotating base and encased in a permacite-reinforced hemispherical shell, its modular structure allowed assembly in hours with proper preparation. 

Each cannon included a dedicated reactor, buried forty meters underground for safety. Three levels of crew quarters and storage lay between, with enough supplies for a twenty-seven-person crew to survive three months. 

Upon activation, the v-150 required mere minutes to align on its base and select a firing sector based on telemetry. 

Its primary drawback was vulnerability to ground assaults and aerial bombardment. A retractable blast shield offered some protection, but not against direct bomb or torpedo strikes. 

The v-150 was often paired with planetary shields, though their high cost—up to six million credits per projector, plus immense energy demands—made this combination rare. The Planet Defender could drive off enemy ships, allowing the shield to reach full strength. 

Synchronized with planetary shields, the cannon could fire through brief shield openings. 

However, its limited firing arc—hundreds of square kilometers—required strategic placement to protect key infrastructure, bases, or spaceports. 

These thoughts flashed through Rederick's mind as he dragged the body of a Balmorran v-150 gunner, killed instantly by a Noghri's obsidian blade through the neck. 

The entire garrison of twenty-six met similar fates, cut down by Noghri death commandos before raising an alarm. 

Now in Dominion Intelligence's hands, the cannon sealed Balmorra's fate. 

Rederick swiveled the cannon to face its target. The intercom buzzed with the local garrison commander's voice, baffled by the gunner's unordered repositioning. 

How mistaken he was. 

The order existed—just not from Balmorran command. 

When the energy buffer charged, Rederick fired. 

The massive planetary shield projector, straining to maintain a vast deflector sector in orbit, crackled with lightning, frying its electronics. 

A vast swath of starry sky opened, signaling Balmorra's command that economizing on shield projectors was a grave error. Half the sky now lay open to invasion, with insufficient generators to close the breach. 

A bitter realization, but only the beginning. 

The cannon's timer counted down recharge seconds. 

Glancing back, Rederick confirmed the Noghri had fortified defensive positions around the installation. Protective systems activated, shielding it from potential strikes. 

The buffer pinged—the cannon was ready. 

Five Golan platforms to stop Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet? 

Rederick aimed at the first target beyond high orbit. 

He pressed the trigger. 

The Planet Defender spat ion fire and began recharging. 

One down…