Not bad. Very good. Now you," I nodded to the brigadier general, if I remembered his rank and insignia correctly.
"Brigadier General Bevell Cody. This is Oberst Artern Kurtz, and Colonels Dylan Kartaz and Rodgmy Blackmoore. Two of our brigades, formerly part of the Nubian defense forces, are now under your command.
Although they are not clones, the men look brave. Greenish light armor, somewhat similar to what General Veers's troops wore on Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back—only the helmet was more familiar in shape, resembling a special forces design. Well, who hasn't seen movies about special forces? The armor itself was impressive: shoulder plates, arm guards, greaves, a specialized belt, and a backpack strapped behind.
Emotionally, though, the Nubians were a letdown. They definitely didn't want to go somewhere in the ass end of the galaxy. Sure, they were willing to die defending their own planet, but laying down their lives for the Republic and its ideals? Not so much. Well…
"What about your personnel and weapons?"
"Each brigade has ten thousand men and is divided into four regiments. The weapons were varied—each regiment had its own—but after the reorganization, our small arms were replaced with standard clone rifles and DS-15 carbines. Plus disposable grenade launchers. Plus one hundred WLO-5 speeder tanks, fifty Freerunner repulsorcraft, and twenty CMD-1 command speeders."
"What are those beasts?" I asked, turning to Sumeragi.
"WLO-5 speeder tank, manufactured by Ubrikkian Ord Pedrovia. Twelve meters long, four meters wide. Crew: three intelligent beings—pilot, gunner, and shooter. There are four additional seats for paratroopers. Maximum speed: one hundred and ten kilometers per hour. Armament: one heavy laser cannon. The tank is very easy to operate, maintain, and repair."
I glanced down from the observation bridge.
Looks like those are the machines standing opposite the Acclamator… Fuck, what a piece of junk. Aggressive design, gigantic engines—and the gunner is completely exposed. With no shield, the hull is covered in bronze armor plates. Hence the weight and the reduced speed. We'll have to think about how to mount a couple of Z-6s on it and protect the gunner, otherwise the whole thing will be practically useless. No doubt, its cannon packs a punch—sure, it could even take down an AAT—but the rate of fire isn't exactly impressive.
"Next."
"Freerunner repulsorcraft, manufactured by Kelliac Arms and Armor Company. Fifteen meters long, five meters wide. Crew: six intelligent beings. Speed: three hundred kilometers per hour. Flight altitude: up to one hundred meters. It has a deflector shield. Armament… two heavy anti-vehicle laser cannons on turrets, two pairs of anti-personnel light blaster cannons on turrets, and one anti-aircraft turret with medium blaster cannons."
I liked these machines better. Sleek, dignified lines; all weapons mounted on turrets; gunners and operators protected by the hull. It even had a shield—which was very impressive for such a compact platform.
"And what is the CMD-1?"
"Sir, it's a speeder—a mobile command post. It's based on the XT-130 repulsor tank. Eight meters long, three meters wide, two meters high. One pilot, six passengers. Speed: five hundred and forty kilometers per hour. No weapons."
I turned to Colonel Saga.
"Do you happen to have any more of those?"
"We do, General. How many do you need? By the way, we also have a medical version—the MCD-1. It can transport four wounded patients and comes with an IM-6 medical droid," the Rodian added.
"Then… let's take twenty command units and fifty medical units."
"We'll have them ready in half an hour, General. But without pilots, I'm afraid."
"That's not a problem. We'll find someone to fly them."
"Anything else, General?"
"Sumeragi, is the list ready?"
"Long ago, sir," the girl replied, handing me a holodisk, which immediately found its way into the Rodian's hands.
"I'll see what I can do. If you need anything else, contact me. May I go now?"
"Go, Colonel."
Turning back to the assembled officers, I began to deliver my speech.
"So. Now that we've met, I'll outline our mission. We're heading into the Wild Space to fight droid forces attacking peaceful planets. We'll most likely be operating alone, although it's possible we'll be part of a larger formation. Now—about responsibilities and assignments."
"The flagship of the flotilla is the Acclamator-class military assault ship Akagi. Williams, does the Resolute have a small hangar?"
"Yes, sir. Maximum capacity—sixteen gunboats."
"Take four squadrons of Actis interceptors."
"Um, General, four squadrons won't fit. At most—one and a half…"
"They will fit. These interceptors are small. You'll be attacked first, as the most dangerous target, so I'm assigning these fighters to you for protection. In exchange, we'll take one squadron of Torrent aboard the Akagi. In total, we'll have two squadrons of Lavins, two squadrons of ARC-170s, and one bomber squadron. The remaining V-19s will be distributed between the two Acclamators.
"Next. We'll distribute the infantry evenly between Taidirium and Bannager—one brigade per ship. The clone regiment goes to the Resolute as an anti-boarding force; after all there no landing craft were available. Equipment from the support brigades will be divided between them too. Allocate ten medical speeders per brigade. In addition—seventy-two Z-95s per Acclamator.
"Shirainyu, you're on the Bannager. Paris—the Taidirium.
"Now, the corvettes. Endel, Sperro—your Consular-class ships will form our strike group. O'Hara, Lind, Retana, Rindi—your Corellians will provide cover for the Acclamators and the rest of the formation. The same applies to you, Valcker, Tarllson, and Ti Ray, with your Pelta-class frigates. Especially you, Ti Ray—we only have one medical frigate."
I paused, drawing a breath. It wasn't easy to devise tactics and coordination on the fly, but there was no other option.
"Overall coordination of ships and aircraft is yours, Sumeragi. Mirro—you handle communications. O'Connor, take the Akagi. Cerri, you're in command of the flotilla. And now—" I looked around deliberately, "—I want the ships ready for departure in ten hours. Is that clear to everyone?"
"Yes, sir!" the intelligent beings answered in unison.
"General, please excuse our lateness!" came a doubled voice from behind me.
I turned to see two officers—or, more precisely, two agents. Intelligence and Security, if I remembered the new insignia correctly.
"Allow me to introduce myself! Agent Firmus Baracus, Security Service," said the tall, imposing human, snapping a salute. Behind him, the second officer—a woman—stepped forward.
"Agent Selan Santorini, Intelligence."
***
In truth, Selan had been here for quite some time. She had simply decided this was a perfect opportunity to observe—and learn. And she learned a great deal.
First and foremost—the Jedi. She disliked the Jedi because she didn't understand them. They were too… opaque, too complex. Difficult to "read," regardless of species. But this one… no. His actions were as clear as the waters of Alderaan—direct, uncomplicated, and at the same time admirable. He immediately established who was in charge. His speech was rough, but… authoritative and confident. And yet he maintained an easy rapport with his subordinates, addressing some by last name, others by first. Selan had never encountered that before.
Second—the officers themselves. Those who had arrived with the Jedi clearly treated him with sympathy, which was rare in naval circles. It was no secret to Selan that the Navy tended to be skeptical of Jedi command ability. Not openly, of course, but still. In this particular case, the Jedi seemed to have earned their respect.
And third—his gaze. It was… strange. Strange enough to spark her professional curiosity. Selan made a mental note to pull everything she could on this Jedi later. Her instincts told her that something here didn't quite add up.
And then it went further.
Few of those present noticed it, but when the Jedi looked at the women… well, he evaluated them by entirely ordinary male standards— which was utterly out of the ordinary. He didn't even pass her by — when most people instinctively did, given her profession.
"Don't take this as an insult, agents, but… you're only good to be sent for death," the Jedi smirked after finishing his appraisal of them.
"Well, never mind. Baracus. Santorini. Your place is on the flagship.You'll remain with headquarters for now; I'll figure out where to assign you later."