Solo stood before the holographic sandtable in the temporary command center, his gaze sweeping over the assembled officers. "Gentlemen," he began, "I have two announcements to make."
All eyes focused on him, including Ahsoka, who leaned forward slightly.
"First," Solo continued, "we've received reinforcements: two Hailfire-class assault ships. Command didn't specify the exact number of troops they're carrying, but it's likely not much."
"What's the second announcement?" Ahsoka asked urgently, her eyes brimming with anticipation for the upcoming mission, the moment he finished speaking.
Solo glanced at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "Patience, Ahsoka. I'm here to share information, not play games of 'I know something you don't.' And I certainly won't be running out waving my cape like some fool... that would be absurd."
A low chuckle rippled through the command center, and Ahsoka's cheeks flushed crimson as she lowered her head in embarrassment.
Solo's smile faded, his tone turning serious. "Back to business: Supreme Command has assigned us a new mission—to support General Skute's assault on Diado. Based on our flight path, it'll take us about fourteen hours to reach the planet. Factoring in the time needed to load supplies and wait for the reinforcements to arrive... we have two days to prepare. Let's distribute the tasks."
He turned to a burly clone officer. "Commander Bram, I'm taking the Second, Third, and Fourth Regiments—three battalions of robots, twenty AT-TEs, fifty AATs, ten SPHAs, and half the speeders. I'm leaving the First and Sixth Regiments, along with the remnants of the Fifth Regiment, to you. I hope we won't be attacked while I'm gone, but if anything happens, you have enough forces to repel the enemy or hold out until reinforcements arrive. Follow the defense plan as previously deployed."
"Yes, sir!" Bram stood ramrod straight, his voice deep and resolute.
"Ahsoka," Solo said, turning to his apprentice.
"Master?" Ahsoka's head snapped up, her earlier embarrassment completely gone, replaced by nervous anticipation.
"Go get ready."
Ahsoka blinked, a puzzled look on her face. "Ready for what?"
"It's very cold on that planet," Solo said, his gaze sweeping over her with obvious disapproval.
Ahsoka was wearing a crop top that exposed most of her shoulders and arms, along with thin white leggings and flimsy boots.
"I have my armor, so I'm not worried about the cold. But with that... *rag* you're wearing, you'll be frozen speechless by the time we get there."
"Master, you just don't understand fashion!" Ahsoka retorted, her chin jutting defiantly, her Togrutan lekku swaying in sync with her indignation.
"As a man, it's perfectly normal for me to be clueless about fashion," Solo replied calmly. "But you need to dress warmer... unless you want to stay on the ship and miss all the action."
Ahsoka's face crumpled in frustration and displeasure, but both knew she would never willingly remain behind, even if it meant wearing "unfashionable" thick clothes.
A few hours later, Solo had barely returned to his temporary quarters when he was summoned back to the Command Center by a Clone Trooper operator.
"Commander Renan's holographic communication, General," the operator reported.
The communication connected, and Renan's image appeared on the screen, his face clearly weary yet radiating a sense of relief. "I'm glad to see you safe and sound, General Viktor."
"Mutual," Solo nodded. "Thank you for stabilizing the sector earlier. Is the fuel we sent still sufficient?"
"More than sufficient," Renan chuckled. "By the way, two Hailfire-class cruisers just passed through, each carrying three clone trooper battalions and 150 V-19 Torrent fighters. They said they're heading to support you. Is there trouble on your end?"
"It's not exactly a problem," Solo replied. "I just received a new mission: to support General Skute's assault on Diado."
"How many troops will you be deploying?" Renan pressed.
"My Legion plus these two reinforcement units, but I need to leave some to guard the base." Solo shrugged. "Command hasn't provided any detailed information. We'll have to take things as they come."
"Do you need my help?" Renan asked earnestly.
"Not immediately. Just stay on standby," Solo said. "Thanks to your arrangements, the Separatist forces in this sector have weakened considerably. But they still outnumber us in ships. If anything critical comes up, I'll contact you immediately."
"Understood," Renan nodded. "Oh, and about the Fleet Tactical Manual you requested earlier, I've compiled the data onto a data crystal. It'll be delivered to you by one of the *Hailfire*-class ships."
"Thank you so much. This is crucial for me," Solo said sincerely.
Meanwhile, in orbit around Diado, Captain Kamanal Maruk sat restlessly in the command chair of the *Lucrehulk*-class ship LH-1740.
The Neimoidian's face was pale, his fingers tapping incessantly against the armrest.
He had served the Trade Federation for seventy years, enduring countless hardships to finally become the consul of this remote planet. Yet he never imagined war would come knocking at his door.
Outside the viewports, the surface of Diado shimmered with a deep teal hue, its plains blanketed in thick layers of white ice. The sunlight glinted off the icy expanse like countless polished steel plates.
Maruk gazed at the planet, his mind repeating the mantra: "I must succeed, I must succeed..."
Not long ago, two Republic ships suddenly appeared in orbit. He had strained every resource, even losing a *Munificent-class* frigate, just to barely halt the enemy's landing forces. Still, some Republic troops had managed to reach the surface and were now trapped in a canyon, proving stubbornly difficult to eliminate.
He dared not deploy his "Vulture Droid" fighters for low-altitude attacks, as they were crucial for orbital defense.
Currently, his forces consisted of only one *Lucrehulk-class* battleship missing its central module, plus four *Munificent-class* frigates—a far weaker force than he had anticipated.
What made him even more anxious was the fate of a "colleague" who had been ordered to retake a planet's forward outpost. Not only had the Republic Army repulsed the attack, but the officer had also suffered catastrophic losses of ships and robots before making a humiliating retreat.
"Losers... losing so many resources, their careers are completely ruined." Maruk shivered. He absolutely couldn't afford to repeat their mistake.
By the end of the first day, the two *Hailfire*-class ships sent to reinforce Solo finally arrived.
These two brand-new assault ships were crewed entirely by clone troopers. Each carried three fully manned clone battalions, twelve AT-TEs, twenty-four LAAT/i gunships, and one hundred and fifty V-19 Torrent fighters.
This allowed Solo to leave four fighter squadrons to guard the base, no longer needing to worry about rear security.
The troops quickly finished loading. Solo led the fleet into orbit. After coordinating flight paths with the captains of the two *Hailfire*-class ships, they activated their hyperspace engines.
He always found this galaxy's navigation system fascinating. Sometimes reaching the galaxy's edge took only a few days, but deviating from the planned route could extend the journey to weeks or even months.
For example, this trip to Diado: a direct flight would take seventy hours, while taking a detour would only take fourteen hours. It was practically a paradox.
After entering hyperspace, Solo returned to his cabin and strictly ordered no one to disturb him.
He retrieved the data crystal Renan had sent from the storage locker and inserted it into the terminal.
Solo was immediately captivated as he opened the first page.
Though some technical jargon was beyond his expertise, he could easily grasp the core content.
The Renann Family's collection was remarkably comprehensive, covering everything from the strengths and weaknesses of various ship models and their operational methods to tactical analyses of regional conflicts, diagrams of ship maneuvers and formations, and even combat notes from fleet commanders.
Maps, charts, tables, and blueprints filled the pages, the sheer volume of information overwhelming.
Solo guessed this was a condensed version, with Renan having undoubtedly omitted the family's core secrets. He didn't mind.
Even this limited content would keep him occupied for a month, let alone fully understanding it.
"It looks like I'll have to sacrifice sleep again," he chuckled ruefully, suddenly missing Earth's coffee.
As the hyperspace jump ended, the Diado star system came into view.
Solo stood on the bridge of the *Dingyuan*, accompanied by Captain Ragnos.
Not far away floated two *Hailfire-class* cruisers. Thick smoke billowed from the right-side hangar of one, clear evidence of recent combat.
"General, the Separatist fleet has fewer ships than we anticipated," Captain Ragnos reported.
Solo gazed at the icebound planet on the observation screen. The display confirmed his suspicion: the Separatist fleet wasn't as formidable as he'd feared.
"All ships, launch fighters! Then close with the enemy vessels and prioritize targeting their 'doughnuts'—the energy shields. Once the other ships are in disarray, finish them off with torpedoes!"
This was his first order of the battle.
"Ahsoka!" Solo turned to his apprentice behind him. "Get ready. Once we establish contact with General Skute, we're heading to his flagship to coordinate our actions."
"Yes, Master! Don't worry, I'll do my best!" Ahsoka nodded vigorously, her thick fur cloak wrapped tightly around her.
Solo had purchased the cloak from the indigenous people of Donovia and insisted she wear it. Though Ahsoka had initially vehemently protested, calling the cloak "ugly and cumbersome," the prospect of participating in the battle had eventually convinced her to comply, though she still seemed a bit disgruntled.
On the battlefield, the firepower of three *Hailfire-class* assault ships quickly overwhelmed the *Lucrehulk-class* battleship.
The battleship was clearly an older model, and its shields quickly overloaded under the assault ships' fire.
The Separatists' four *Munificent-class* frigates initially attempted to counterattack, but seeing the tide turn against them, they immediately activated their hyperspace engines and retreated.
Without support from their mothership, the *Vulture droid fighters* became easy targets and were swiftly eliminated by *V-19 Torrent fighters*.
With the space battle concluded, Solo led his fleet to approach General Skute's flagship.
After exchanging identification codes, he and Ahsoka boarded a *LAAT/i gunship* and headed to the *Hailfire-class* assault ship.
Jedi Master Phinnion Skute was already waiting in the hangar, his delight plainly visible.
The short, dark-skinned Kubaz, with his wrinkled face and sharp eyes, had nearly jumped for joy when he learned of the reinforcements' arrival.
For the past few days, he had been deeply worried about his apprentice, Kam'Akachek, the young Verpine who had led two battalions into a canyon, where they had been trapped by Separatist forces and cut off from the main army.
Scout had tried several times to send gunships for rescue, but each attempt failed due to the enemy's overwhelming firepower. He could only pin his hopes on reinforcements from the Jedi Council.
Now, may the Force bless us, three *Hailfire*-class assault ships arrived. Their method of dealing with the enemy fleet reignited his hope for victory.
The gunship's ramp lowered, and several clone troopers leaped out first. Their armor was painted an unusual steel-gray, with unfamiliar markings on their chest and shoulder plates—a stark contrast to the standard white armor.
Next, a tall figure in blue armor stepped onto the hangar deck and removed his helmet, revealing a young face, likely in his twenties.
Behind him followed a petite figure wrapped in a fur cloak, only two bright eyes visible.
"This..."
What surprised Scout most was the appearance of two B-1 battle droids, their white-and-red-painted hulls trailing behind Solo like obedient attendants.
Finally, two clone troopers in green-gray armor emerged and took up positions near the gunship to stand guard.
Solo stepped forward, extending his hand. "Greetings, Master Skute. I am Jedi Knight Solo Victor, sent by the Council to assist you in capturing this planet. This is my apprentice, Ahsoka Tano."
Ahsoka bowed in greeting. "It's an honor to meet you, Master Skute."
Master Skute quickly returned the gesture, subtly sensing Solo through the Force. The other's Force presence was steady and powerful, carrying an unexpected maturity for his age.
"I'm delighted to meet you so soon!" he said urgently, without time to dwell on his observations. "The Council's swift response to my request is most welcome! Your arrival is perfectly timed! Please follow me to the Command Center. I'll brief you on everything I know about this planet... My apprentice is in dire need of rescue below. We must act quickly!"
Solo nodded. "I'll do everything I can to accelerate the offensive. That's precisely why the Council sent me."
Master Skute immediately turned and strode toward the ship's Command Center. Solo and Ahsoka followed closely, accompanied by a B-1 battle droid that trailed them step by step. Meanwhile, the clone troopers left in the hangar completed the handover with Skute's guards and prepared for their next deployment.
***
In a corner of the hangar, a Clone Lieutenant couldn't resist approaching the Clone Troopers Solo had brought, examining them curiously. "Brothers, where did you come from? Why is your armor painted like that? And... what's this tin can doing here?"
He pointed at the B-1 battle droid.
He was genuinely surprised to see Clone Troopers accompanied by a Separatist robot!
"We are the 13th Legion, under General Viktor's command," a Clone Warrior answered solemnly, patting the B-1 on the shoulder. "This is our trophy."
"What... what? A trophy?"
The B-1 battle droid swiveled its head, its electronic eyes flashing, clearly not understanding what "trophy" meant.
"None of your business. Shut up."
"Roger! Roger!!"
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