**: Interlude – Bones of Peace, Blood of War**
**Dagon's POV**
The airspeeder hummed through the night skies of Lianna, city lights blurring beneath us. My mind, however, was far from the view.
Extrapolating our current situation, the plan was proving far more difficult to implement than anticipated. Assembly lines for droids or weapons were relatively easy to acquire and inexpensive — especially now, with wartime production surging. But shipyards and proper docks were another matter entirely. The main suppliers remained Telgorn (a Sienar subsidiary), Kuat, and Sluis Van. The price for even the simplest open dock with necessary infrastructure started at forty million credits for vessels up to three hundred meters, and climbed to four hundred million for facilities capable of handling ships up to two kilometers long. Closed docks added another forty percent to the cost.
Resource extraction was even more prohibitive. A Kuat-built Lormar-type mining and processing plant ran one and a half billion credits new. Even an old, used one would set us back around eight hundred million.
Money, money, and more money. The bones of peace, the blood of war. Off the top of my head, a secret startup of this scale would require at least a hundred billion credits. Those were some hefty figures. And everything had to be done in absolute secrecy. While hidden shipyards might be feasible with the right shell companies and bribes, moving a behemoth like a Lormar platform — two kilometers in diameter and three and a half kilometers tall — would not go unnoticed.
The airspeeder finally reached the barracks complex. I contacted the dispatcher, opened a secure corridor to our private block, and took manual control for the final approach. The pilot droid was already undergoing a memory wipe procedure, just in case. It would wake in an hour with a fresh factory-fresh personality.
After landing, I headed toward my quarters, but my body demanded refueling first. I detoured to the officers' dining hall. Imagine my surprise when I found Fleet Admiral Kinaun sitting alone at a corner table, dejectedly poking at a long-cold meal with a spoon.
"Sir," the officer said, rising to offer a somewhat mechanical salute as I approached.
"Can't sleep?" I asked, heading to the dispenser unit.
"Huh? Yeah… I can't seem to sleep," Kinaun muttered.
It was strange. He was usually far more collected and decisive. I selected a high-protein tray, waited for it to materialize, and carried it over to his table.
"Did something happen?"
"No, everything's fine," he replied too quickly. "Personal problems."
"Maybe I can help with something?"
"If only…"
"Still — share it. Two heads are better than one. You're just going to sit here until morning otherwise."
Kinaun paused, then finally blurted out, "General… what do you think would make a good gift for a girl?"
*Oh. So that's how far things have gone.*
I chuckled inwardly and leaned forward with a confidential smile beneath the mask. It was no secret to me why Kinaun had been sighing over this particular girl. He had taken a serious interest in Lyra Blissex from their very first meeting. On the battlefield, Kinaun was bold, decisive, and ice-cold. In matters of the heart, however, the man was utterly lost. Understandable, perhaps — Lyra was brilliant, driven, and operated in an entirely different world of high-end engineering and corporate politics.
"Just between you and me," I said, keeping my tone light, "an expensive, ornate gift probably isn't the right move here. Lyra wouldn't be impressed by something flashy. Choose something thoughtful instead. A trinket — a hair clip, a bracelet, or a pendant. Something fun, like an animal or a bird. Turns out there's no direct word for 'keychain' in Galactic Basic due to the lack of physical keys in most societies these days."
Kinaun looked up in genuine surprise. "You think that would work?"
"Yes. You want the gift to be memorable, right? Think outside the box. Something personal that shows you actually see her — not just her position or accomplishments."
The Fleet Admiral sat quietly for a moment, processing the advice. Then he stood up with sudden decisiveness, his earlier melancholy evaporating.
"Please forgive me, sir, but I need to fly somewhere right away."
"Good luck," I said, waving a hand at his retreating back as he hurried out of the dining hall.
I focused on my meal, the corners of my mouth twitching slightly beneath the durasteel mask. Even in the middle of a galaxy-spanning war, with *Spear of Light* looming and secret shipyard projects draining resources, people still found time to fall in love. Or at least try to.
It was almost… humanizing.
My thoughts drifted back to the hundred-billion-credit problem. Secret mining platforms. Hidden shipyards. The infrastructure needed to sustain a long war — or perhaps something more permanent. The Republic was winning battles, but the real victory would be won in the shipyards and factories, not just on the front lines.
I finished eating in silence, the weight of command settling back onto my shoulders. Kinaun had his personal campaign tonight. I had an empire to build in the shadows.
The Dragon of the Republic still had work to do.