**Chapter 528**
**Command Decisions**
**Dagon POV**
**Aboard the Gray Wolf – Private Command Suite**
**Lantilles Orbit**
The *Gray Wolf* hung in high orbit above Lantilles like a silent predator, its massive hull gleaming under the system's distant sun. I sat alone in my private command suite, the large holographic display rotating slowly in front of me. Fleet status reports, supply manifests, strategic overlays, and personnel files filled the air with glowing data. The girls were resting in our shared quarters after the long day — a much-needed break after the drinking incident and the emotional whirlwind of the past weeks.
I rubbed my temple, reviewing the latest intelligence. The 11th Sector push into Felucia was looming, but first I needed to solidify our defenses here. The Gordian Reach and the broader Outer Rim were still volatile. With the Valahari situation stabilizing under Republic control, it was time to make some hard command decisions.
*Proton torpedoes typically carry a high-yield, nuclear-level explosive,* I thought, skimming through old technical files I had recovered. *Estimates for standard starfighter-mounted torpedoes range from 1 kiloton to over 100 kilotons of TNT. Heavier variants used by Acclamator-class assault ships are capable of surface-bombardment roles, including Base Delta Zero operations. They're fusion-based projectiles that release high-velocity proton particles — excellent at bypassing ray shields but stopped by particle shields.*
Assault concussion missiles were even more devastating for capital ships — a handful could destroy a target completely, with some equipped with Chepatite-Thorium warheads encased in durasteel penetrators for deep strikes.
*In space, zero gravity takes away most explosive power,* I mused. *That's why torpedoes and missiles are often underutilized in fleet actions unless launched from fighters or bombers. The Providence-class carriers and dreadnoughts carry over 100 proton torpedo launchers with three torpedoes each, but shielding, firing angles, and fuel constraints limit their use. Same for the Republic. But in the 12th Sector, thanks to our raw material resources, we can stay fully equipped. Still, turbolasers remain king for most engagements.*
I leaned back in my chair, considering the bigger picture. The *Terminus* had finished repairs and was a monster — based on the future Imperious-class Star Destroyer with a mounted kyber reactor and upgraded heavy turbolasers. It was worth 200 CIS ships in raw firepower. But I couldn't risk it against Subjugators or similar super-ships without proper support. It needed to stay as a defensive anchor.
"Time to reorganize," I muttered aloud.
I activated the comm. "Fleet Admiral Kinaun, report to my ready room."
A few minutes later, the door hissed open. Kinaun entered, posture straight and professional as always. At 39 years old, he still carried the enthusiasm of a much younger officer, but with the steady wisdom of someone who had seen too many battles.
"General," he said with a crisp salute. "You wanted to see me?"
I gestured for him to sit. "Yes. I've made a decision regarding fleet command before we push into the 11th Sector. The *Terminus* has completed its repairs. It's yours now."
Kinaun's eyes widened slightly, a rare flash of surprise crossing his face. "Sir… that's a great honor. I won't let you down."
I smiled faintly, though it didn't reach my eyes. "Don't get too honored yet. You're staying here as part of the defense fleet alongside Moff Terbon. The other Resurgent-class ships will join my main fleet for the coming operations."
I brought up the list on the holodisplay, the six powerful vessels rotating slowly:
- *Blossom*
- *Ranger*
- *Gray Wolf* (my flagship)
- *Resurgent*
- *Fortitude*
- *Fulminatrix*
"Six Resurgents in total under my direct command," I continued. "The *Terminus* has the firepower of two hundred CIS ships. Its crew is battle-hardened, and with the kyber reactor and heavy turbolasers, it's the perfect anchor for Lantilles defense. We've won the 12th Sector, but we're still the closest to numerous CIS worlds. I need reliable command staff in stable areas. You're one of the few I trust completely to hold this sector if the CIS tries something desperate."
Kinaun looked torn, his hands clenching slightly on his knees. "Sir, with respect… I would prefer to remain with the main fleet. The *Gray Wolf* has been my home for these campaigns. Serving under you has been—"
I raised a hand, cutting him off gently but firmly. "I know. And I value your service more than you realize. But this is necessary. The *Terminus* is too valuable to risk in every engagement. You'll have full operational authority here. The defense grid, the shipyards, the kyber matrix — everything we've built at Lantilles needs a steady hand. If the CIS launches a major counterattack while we're committed to Felucia or Mygeeto, you'll be the one holding the line."
Kinaun was silent for a long moment, processing. Then he straightened, resolve settling over him. "Understood, General. I won't disappoint you. The *Terminus* will be ready for anything."
I stood and clasped his shoulder. "You never have. Dismissed."
As he left, I exhaled slowly, leaning against the desk. *Man, at 39 years old he still has the enthusiasm of a young admiral. It's hard to be in command sometimes. Sending good people away to hold the rear while I push forward… it never gets easier.*
I looked out the viewport at the orbiting fleet. The Nebula-class ships were integrating well. The X-wing project with Subpro and Incom was moving forward. My forces were stronger than ever.
But the war was far from over.
Felucia awaited. Mygeeto loomed. Dooku was still out there, plotting. Grievous and Selena would likely come hunting for me soon.
I allowed myself one quiet moment of reflection before heading back toward the bridge. The girls would be waking up soon from their hangover. Through the bond, I had felt their collective misery earlier — Kayla's dramatic groans, Ahsoka's lekku twitching in protest, Shin's quiet suffering. They had clearly enjoyed the confiscated senator wine a bit too much.
*Perhaps I should have gone in and healed them,* I thought with a quiet chuckle. *Next time.*
The war never stopped. But neither would we.