Solo's fleet had been traveling through hyperspace for nearly two hours, with an estimated four-hour journey remaining to Lantilles Fleet Base.
However, this return lacked the joy of triumph. The battle at Togolia Orbit, while not a catastrophic defeat, was undeniably a loss.
Inside the tactical room of the *Dingyuan*, Solo stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Ento Ragnos, attentively listening to Lieutenant Li Norega deliver the combat summary.
Several holographic projections hovered above the tactical table, clearly displaying the battlefield situation and data charts.
Yet an inexplicable unease lingered in Solo's mind, like a persistent prickling sensation. Combined with days of accumulated fatigue, it made him unusually irritable.
"...The battle lasted thirty-one minutes. Thanks to Commander Rinuan's tactical maneuvers, we successfully rescued the remnants of the Dietmar Flotilla. However, the damage assessment is grim," Li Norega's voice remained clear and calm. "Of the four remaining Hailfire-class ships, three require emergency repairs and will be docked for one to three months. The condition of the fourth is still being assessed. The rest of the ships, including most of the frigates, were completely destroyed. The Southeast Flotilla Air Wing suffered a seventy percent loss rate and is effectively combat-ineffective."
Lagnos muttered a Zabrak curse under his breath and asked, "What are our losses?"
"Relatively light," Li Norega replied, pulling up the updated data report. "Only one Pelta-class frigate was struck by a heavy turbolaser cannon and sustained minor damage. The Dingyuan remains unscathed. In terms of fighters, we lost thirty-seven in total. The squadron protecting the main hangar lost twelve, the squadron responsible for defending the rear lost eleven, and General, your Yellow Team lost eight. The remaining losses were scattered across other squads."
"In plain terms, we still got our asses kicked," Solo said with a bitter smile. "Rinuan did save everyone, but we failed to seal off Togolia. Command won't be happy."
Lagnos nodded, clearly impressed with Li Norega's performance. "Appointing you as head of the Combat Tactics Department was the right decision. Compiling such a detailed report in just two hours is impressive."
"What about enemy losses?" Solo asked.
During the battle, he had been too preoccupied with restraining the Vulture fighters and evading their fire to pay attention to the status of their larger vessels.
"We can't provide an accurate assessment yet," Li Norega said, pulling up the enemy ship damage records. "Multiple *Munificent-class* frigates were hit repeatedly, but we can't confirm the extent of the damage. We've discovered four wreckage sites, all *Munificent-class*. The transport ship remains undamaged."
"What about the fighters?"
"According to our fighters' black box records, our pilots shot down 272 *Vulture* fighters," Li Norega added. "Commander Tano had the highest score with 36 downed. You're second, General, with 23. Commander KP-34T09 of the Eleventh Squadron is third with 8."
After finishing the report, Li Norega dismissed the holographic projection, saluted, and left.
Solo and Lagnos continued discussing follow-up matters.
Requesting additional fighters and pilots, arranging repairs for damaged ships, compiling casualty lists... Another half-hour of frantic activity passed before Solo could finally escape. He headed for the training hall to practice with his lightsaber and clear his mind through meditation.
Just as he was about to enter the training hall, a sudden realization struck him—the source of his unease had finally surfaced: Ahsoka.
Without hesitation, Solo turned and hurried toward Ahsoka's quarters.
Ahsoka's quarters were dimly lit, the door tightly shut.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, maintaining a meditative posture. Though her outward appearance remained calm, a heavy weight pressed down on her heart.
Before the battle, she had eagerly anticipated piloting a fighter and proving her capabilities to her Master, determined not to disappoint him.
During the fight, she threw herself into the fierce combat with exhilaration, downing Vulture droid after Vulture droid. Yet in the heat of the moment, she completely forgot Solo's warning.
The result: nearly a third of the Clone Troopers in her squadron were lost.
All because of her negligence.
Until now, she had never commanded anyone, only carried out her Master's orders.
But now, she had personally caused the sacrifice of her comrades.
Ahsoka waited in despair. She knew her Master would come to reprimand her soon, and this waiting felt more agonizing than the battle itself.
For the first time, she truly understood the reality of "death"—the fleeting energy fluctuations when a single Clone Trooper fell, the explosive surge of energy when an entire ship was destroyed... Last time Solo said, "Nothing can change; you just have to get used to it," she could comfort herself with the excuse, "I wasn't the one in command." But this time, she *was* the Commander, and the responsibility was inescapable.
"I've disappointed Master..." Ahsoka shook her head vigorously, trying to shake off the negative emotions, but it was futile.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Through the Force, she immediately sensed it was Solo.
"Master?" Ahsoka opened her eyes, her voice trembling slightly.
"May I come in?"
"Of course."
Solo entered the cabin and sat down beside her, his gaze fixed intently on her. "Ahsoka, we need to talk."
Ahsoka didn't dare meet his eyes. She lowered her head, her voice choking with emotion. "I'm sorry, Master... It's my fault. Because of me, so many people died... I don't know how to command, and I'm not suited to be a Commander. I thought I could do it, but I've disappointed you."
She desperately held back her tears, her fingers turning white from the strain.
"You're taking yourself too seriously, Ahsoka," Solo's voice suddenly turned harsh, completely unexpected.
She jerked her head up, her eyes wide with shock.
Her Master had never spoken to her in this tone before.
"Do you really think their deaths are all because of you? Don't be naive!" Solo's voice carried a hint of anger. "The war is ongoing, and they are soldiers, born to fight. To them, dying in battle is honor, not tragedy. They don't care if it's because of you or someone else—what matters is that we make their deaths meaningful."
He closed his eyes, intertwining his fingers tightly. "I bear the responsibility for tens of thousands of lives. Thousands have already died, and I don't know how many more will sacrifice themselves in the future! You think you have it hard? What about me?"
Solo's voice nearly turned into a low growl.
He suddenly stopped, took a deep breath, and sealed his emotions within the Force, though a trace of exhaustion still escaped.
"Master..."
Ahsoka's sense of grievance and self-reproach gradually transformed into anger, influenced by Solo's emotional state.
"Think about it, Ahsoka," Solo said, his voice regaining calmness but carrying an unyielding seriousness. "We're at war. The moment we step off this ship, we fight until death. No one taught us how to wage war, but that's no excuse."
He stood up and walked towards the door, leaving one final statement: "The Jedi Code says, 'There is no ignorance, there is only knowledge.' Let me put it another way... Knowledge is power. While you still can, go and learn—even from your own mistakes."
The cabin door closed, leaving Ahsoka alone in the dimly lit room. Solo's words echoed incessantly in her mind: *What was that all about?*
Forcing herself to calm down, she began to carefully consider her Master's intentions.
Solo returned to his quarters, the door silently sliding shut, isolating him from the outside world.
He punched the wall, the sharp pain in his knuckles paling in comparison to the turmoil within him.
"Damn it, where did that rage come from? I almost lost control!"
He slumped to the floor, repeatedly reciting the Jedi Code in his mind, trying to purge his turbulent emotions.
After prolonged reflection, a disheartening conclusion gradually took shape:
He had gone too far.
When he first crossed over to this world, he felt as if he were living in a fog, a surreal excitement surrounding the Jedi, the Force, and the war, as if he were playing an ultra-realistic game.
But now, the excitement had faded, and the crushing weight of reality left him gasping.
Those deaths weren't numbers; those sacrifices weren't plot points. This was real war, and he was already deeply entangled, with no escape.
"A self-righteous transmigrator, convinced of his omniscience, yet failing to grasp even the most basic sense of responsibility." Solo chuckled bitterly. "It's easy to criticize wars from behind a screen, but when you personally command troops and watch soldiers die because of your decisions, you realize just how difficult it truly is."
More importantly, he finally understood the true meaning of the Jedi Code.
Jedis renounce extreme emotions, not because emotions are inherently dark, but because those gifted with the Force perceive emotions with far greater intensity than ordinary people.
In calm, they are like the deep sea; in anger, they are like erupting volcanoes, with no middle ground.
If emotions are not controlled, they will control you, clouding judgment and even leading to the Dark Side.
"Emotion is fleeting; serenity endures." This phrase does not deny emotions, but advocates for rational control, ensuring that emotions do not interfere with critical decisions.
Even the Sith, who exploit the Dark Side, require extreme emotional control; otherwise, they risk falling completely into monstrous depravity.
Palpatine lost control during his duel with Windu, transforming into a deranged tyrant.
Anakin, unable to control his anger, ultimately became Darth Vader, personally destroying his own family.
Solo finally realized that his previous understanding of the Jedi Code had been far too superficial.
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