**Chapter 546**
**Scene 1**
**Passel Argente POV**
**CIS Fleet – Hyperspace**
Passel Argente stood on the bridge of his flagship, the *Alliance* — a heavily modified Lucrehulk-class battleship Type C. The vessel bristled with over 500 dual heavy turbolaser batteries, making it one of the most heavily armed ships in the Corporate Alliance fleet. Around it flew the strongest armada he had ever personally commanded.
50 Recusant-class heavy destroyers
300 Recusant-class light destroyers
90 Providence-class Dreadnoughts (2km variants)
90 Lucrehulk-class battleships
450 Munificent-class frigates
150 Techno Union frigates
120 Dauntless-class heavy cruisers
250 Sabaoth-class Destroyers
This was power. This was vengeance.
"Dagon Marek will finally pay for his arrogance," Passel muttered, clenching his fists. "When I present his head to the Separatist Council, they will have no choice but to elect me their new leader."
The blue pilot droid at the helm turned its head. "Sir, we are arriving in one minute. However, we are detecting strange readings ahead."
"What strange readings?" Passel snapped.
The ship suddenly jolted violently — even while still in hyperspace. Alarms screamed across the bridge as the vessel shook like it was being torn apart.
"What is happening?!" Passel yelled, grabbing a railing to steady himself.
"Sir, there are mines!" the droid reported frantically. "We just lost contact with three frigates. Attempting emergency hyperspace procedures!"
"Sir, hull breaches on decks 12 through 50!" another droid shouted.
Explosions rippled through the formation. Munificents and Recusants were ripped apart by gravity waves that distorted space itself. Passel's eyes widened in rage and disbelief as more reports flooded in.
*Stay calm,* he told himself. *Remember the plan. Defeat Dagon and the Corporate Alliance will dominate the Confederacy.*
A brilliant flash of light filled the bridge as a gravity mine detonated directly ahead. The viewport shattered. Passel Argente had only a fraction of a second to scream before the bridge was consumed in fire and vacuum.
**Scene 2**
**TX-01 POV**
**Orron III Orbit**
TX-01 stood motionless on the bridge of his command ship as damage reports flooded in.
"Status," the tactical droid ordered.
A subordinate unit responded immediately: "One Recusant-class heavy destroyer, five Recusant-class light destroyers, one Providence-class Dreadnought, two Lucrehulk-class battleships, ten Munificent-class frigates, twenty Techno Union frigates, twenty Dauntless-class heavy cruisers, and fifteen Sabaoth-class Destroyers have been destroyed. All remaining vessels have sustained minor to moderate damage. The Corporate Alliance flagship *Alliance* has been completely destroyed along with Magistrate Passel Argente."
TX-01 processed the information without emotion. "Very well. Our operation has suffered a setback. Retreat to safe space and—"
Green turbolaser fire suddenly rained down on the fleet from extreme range. Three more Munificent-class frigates exploded in rapid succession.
"We are being attacked!" a droid reported. "Republic long-range batteries are firing!"
TX-01 turned toward the tactical display. The enemy fleet was positioned around the three moons and the planet in a defensive crescent formation. At its heart, the *Grey Wolf* and several other capital ships moved in an unusual rotating drill-like pattern, their combined firepower focused into devastating lances of green energy.
"Attempting hyperspace jump in 3… 2… 1—"
The fleet tried to flee, but a powerful gravity well suddenly yanked them out of hyperspace. Two Munificent-class frigates collided with a Providence-class Dreadnought in the chaos, resulting in three more destroyed vessels.
"Sir, we are detecting an artificial gravity well generated by enemy ships," a tactical droid announced. "Image coming through now."
The scan showed the *Grey Wolf* at the center of the enemy formation, surrounded by powerful escorts in a moving drill pattern. Their long-range fire continued to shred the CIS lines.
TX-01's photoreceptors glowed coldly. "Very well. Reposition the fleet. Advance toward the first moon. Once we destroy the enemy flagship, prepare for emergency jump."
The battered yet still numerically superior CIS fleet began its desperate push toward the nearest moon. Vulture droids and tri-fighters poured out of the surviving carriers in waves, while the heavier capital ships returned fire as best they could at extreme range.
TX-01 calculated the odds again.
Victory probability: 34% and dropping.
But retreat without engaging was not an option. The mission parameters were clear.
"Focus all fire on the *Grey Wolf*," he ordered. "Eliminate General Dagon Marek at all costs."
The Battle of Orron III had truly begun.