Phew, I made it… Not for nothing I raped my brain and the astromech from the engineering battalion with his databases —to find the right ships. I was lucky that both the Marauder and the H-6 had been developed long enough ago to be included in the relevant catalogs, and the fact that they were still available for sale also played a role. I doubt it would have been that easy with classified technology.
Some group of pirates or rebels had even flown the H-6. Though, honestly, I'm not sure what counts as "rebels" these days.
But Yoda—Force bless him—you really made my day. "Help capture the planet…" Easy to say! How many enemy troops are there? What units will arrive with the ships? How many troops and vessels does this Squater have? Are they all sitting up there in the Council drinking bleach?
Wait—there's a file. I opened it and began scrolling through the small dossier. Diado… Diado… Ah, here it is. The planet lies on one of the branches of the Parlemian Trade Route and is controlled by the Trade Federation's people. The system's name… well, well—Diado. The locals clearly lack imagination. Let's see what else we've got. An icy planet, pretty inhospitable. Around minus ninety degrees at the poles, but at the equator it's relatively mild—just fifteen below zero. No native population, but twelve alien species live there, including Humans, Twi'leks, Devaronians, Rodians, Ithorians, Verpines, and even—drum roll—Jawas themselves. The inhabitants aren't particularly fond of traders, but they don't have the guts to start an uprising. Interesting facts: the flora and fauna are rather scarce, the planet produces a small quantity of metals and rare ores, and two small moons orbit it.
The data was scarce—very scarce. Still, at least now I knew where to fly and what to expect. The Council often sent Jedi on missions using the principle of "go there, I don't know where, bring back that, I don't know what." At least, that's the impression I got from watching the animated series. And Obi-Wan's search for Kamino—same story.
Well, at least they sent ships. And under my command, too. Are they starting to appreciate me? And if these ships are Acclamators, then… three Acclamators is already a decent force. In any case, I'll finally have some orbital cover instead of dodging every CIS pod like the devil dodges holy water.
Turning to one of the B-1s accompanying me, I gave the order:
"Call the regimental commanders and the commander of the Marat to me—we'll have a briefing. In two hours."
"Roger Roger, General!" the droid replied crisply.
Those things had quite a story. I'd been unable to get my hands on an R-series astromech. On Separatist ships, it was a rather specific "commodity", which was also taken care of, as it cost as much as a company of B-1s. So I had to settle for a pair of droids as orderlies.
They were OOM-series units, distinguished by their more advanced intelligence: regular battle droids used fourth-class AI, while the OOMs boasted third-class artificial intelligence. Their limited combat capability was compensated for by built-in communication systems. They operated within a range of up to a hundred kilometers and could even maintain contact in orbit.
***
"So, fellow officers, I've got a couple of news items for you."
Those gathered at the command post turned their attention to me.
"First, we're getting reinforcements—two Acclamators. Unfortunately, the number of troops hasn't been specified, but I doubt they'll allocate much."
"And what's the second piece of news?" Ahsoka asked impatiently as soon as I paused.
"Patience, Snips. I called this meeting to share information, not to pull some tragicomic stunt like, 'I know something, but I'm not telling,' and then dramatically wave my cloak and dash off into the corridor."
The faces of the assembled officers broke into barely restrained smiles, and my Padawan blushed.
"So," I continued, shifting to a serious tone, "High Command has tasked us with supporting General Squater's attack on the planet Diado. According to the data, it'll take about fourteen hours to get there, plus the time for loading and ship arrival. In short, we have about two days to prepare. Now for the details."
"Commander Blam," I turned to the clone, "I'm taking three regiments—the second, third, and fourth. Three battalions of droids. Twenty AT-TEs, fifty AATs, a dozen SPHAs, and half the speeders. I'll leave you with the first, sixth, and the remainder of the fifth. Hopefully there won't be any enemy attacks while I'm away, but if there are, you'll have enough strength to repel or at least hold out until help arrives. You know the defense plan."
"Yes, sir!"
"Snips."
"Teacher?" The girl had already overcome her embarrassment and was now waiting for orders with visible enthusiasm.
"I advise you to prepare."
"For what?"
"Just so you know, it's pretty cold on that planet. I don't care—I've got armor. But you…" I gave her outfit a critical look. Her stomach was bare, her chest covered with a strip of fabric that barely qualified as a 'top,' and her arms protected only by elbow-length gloves, leaving her shoulders bare. Her white, tight pants and thin boots didn't inspire much confidence either—those rags would be miserable in freezing weather.
"You don't understand anything about clothes, Teacher!" the Togruta huffed indignantly.
"I'm a man—it's my job," I replied evenly. "But you'll have to dress warmer if you don't want to stay on board and miss all the fun."
Her expression reflected annoyance and de-e-e-ep dissatisfaction, but we both knew what her answer would be…
***
A few hours later, I was summoned back to the command center.
"Commander Rinaun on the line," one of the clone operators reported.
"Glad to see you're well, Commander."
"And you. Thank you for the timely fuel delivery—we really needed it. Two Acclamators have arrived, each carrying three regiments of clones and 150 fighters. They say they're heading your way. Are you in trouble?" Rinaun asked with interest.
"No, but I've been ordered to support the assault on the planet Diado."
"With what forces?" the commander asked.
"My Legion and these reinforcements, I suppose. I haven't been given the specifics yet. But some of the troops will have to stay behind as a garrison," I said, spreading my arms.
"Do you need help?" he offered.
"Be ready, just in case. Thanks to your efforts, the Separatist forces in our sector should be weakened, but…"
"I understand—the Separatists still have superiority in numbers and ships. Let me know if anything goes wrong. If I can, I'll assist."
"Thank you, Commander. Though I'll try to manage on my own."
"I have no doubt," the officer smiled through the hologram. "By the way, General—you once asked for advice on fleet tactics. I'll be sending an infocrystal with one of the ships."
"Thank you very much…"