**Chapter 842: Gray Reckoning**
**Scene 1: Yag'Dhul Orbit – Dagon POV**
Yag'Dhul orbit.
As the orbital shipyard was destroyed and the enemy fleet was in pieces.
We lost 10 Triumphs and 15 Vectors.
Casualties nearly 90,000 both crew and pilots. Still for such a key world it was a decisive victory.
So I decided to capitalize and send a message of fear. Orbital bombardment on the ecumenopolis.
"Open fire," I said calmly.
Dagon Marek stood on the bridge of the *Annihilator*, the massive super-dreadnought's command center alive with the controlled chaos of victory. The holographic tactical display showed the remnants of the Givin and CIS fleet scattering like broken glass—shattered hulls, drifting escape pods, and clouds of debris marking where once-proud warships had stood. The three moons of Yag'Dhul continued their erratic dance, gravitational tides pulling wreckage into unpredictable spirals, but the planet's gray cloud cover now glowed with the fires of burning orbital platforms.
The Yag'Dhul shipyards—the massive ring structures and 120 individual orbiting facilities that had supplied the CIS with hyperlane calculations, Wavecrest frigates, and critical components—were gone. Reduced to glowing slag and expanding clouds of molten metal. The Republic fleet had paid a price, but the blow was decisive.
Dagon's scarred face remained impassive as he reviewed the casualty reports. Ten Triumph-class Star Destroyers lost, fifteen Vectors destroyed or crippled. Nearly ninety thousand dead—crews, pilots, support personnel. It was a heavy toll, but for such a key world, it was a decisive victory.
The Givin had been the mathematical backbone of the CIS, their brilliant minds discovering new hyperlanes and optimizing production. Now that backbone was shattered. Dagon allowed himself a small, cold smile. The message needed to be clear. Fear would do what diplomacy never could.
"Open fire," he said calmly.
The *Annihilator*'s ultra-heavy siege cannons and the Mandator IVs' orbital autocannons roared to life. Massive lances of green and crimson energy lanced down through the atmosphere, targeting the ecumenopolis below. The gray cloud cover parted violently as the bombardment began, thunderous explosions blooming across the planet's surface like malignant flowers.
**Scene 2: Yag'Dhul – Government Office**
The Givin were there doing calculations.
"We must surrender and send all the ones in charge to the Republic for execution," one council member said.
"Agreed. The nuclear attack on Coruscant set death warrants on all our heads. Surrender and we should be fine," another member said sarcastically.
"Council members, we need to get you underground now. The Republic has—"
He didn't finish his words as he was destroyed by orbital bombardment.
The underground command bunker beneath the capital's central spire was a marvel of Givin engineering—reinforced durasteel walls, redundant shield generators, and mathematical precision in every angle. Yet none of it mattered when the sky itself fell.
Councilor Vexxar Qul stood at the head of the long calculation table, his elongated Givin fingers tapping rapidly across a holographic display. Equations floated in the air—projections of Republic fleet movements, estimates of remaining shipyard capacity, probabilities of survival.
"We must surrender," Vexxar said, his voice a precise monotone. "Send all the ones in charge to the Republic for execution. It is the only logical path."
"Agreed," Councilor Thrix added, adjusting his spectacles. "The nuclear attack on Coruscant set death warrants on all our heads. Surrender and we should be fine."
The other councilors murmured agreement, their bulbous heads nodding in unison. The Givin were not warriors—they were mathematicians. Logic dictated survival above pride.
"Council members, we need to get you underground now. The Republic has—"
The aide never finished his sentence.
A blinding flash of green energy tore through the reinforced ceiling. Orbital bombardment from the Republic fleet ripped the bunker open like a tin can. Durasteel melted, concrete vaporized, and the entire chamber erupted in fire and shrapnel. Vexxar Qul was thrown across the room, his body slamming into the far wall as the shockwave hit. The last thing he saw was the gray sky through the massive breach, filled with the silhouettes of descending Republic dropships.
The Givin government had ceased to exist in a single heartbeat.
**Scene 3: Aftermath and Message Sent**
An estimate, 20 million dead, probably enough for message, all their giant buildings were destroyed.
"Leave 10 Vector-class Star Destroyers for blockade duty and prepare for planet wide control. The rest prepare to jump," Dagon said to Fleet Admiral Dittmar.
"Yes, General."
Dagon stood on the *Annihilator*'s observation deck, watching the gray planet below burn. The orbital bombardment had been precise—targeting the major population centers, government spires, and remaining shipyard infrastructure. Twenty million dead. A harsh number, but one that would echo across the CIS. The Givin had chosen secession. Now they would learn the cost.
The giant suspension towers and mathematical spires that defined Yag'Dhul's ecumenopolis were gone—reduced to glowing craters and collapsing ruins. The three moons continued their chaotic orbit, their gravitational pull now pulling debris from the destroyed shipyards into new, unpredictable patterns.
"Leave 10 Vector-class Star Destroyers for blockade duty and prepare for planet wide control," Dagon said to Fleet Admiral Dittmar. "The rest prepare to jump."
"Yes, General," Dittmar replied, saluting crisply. "The *Olympus Mons* and supporting elements will remain to coordinate occupation. The rest of the fleet will be ready within the hour."
Dagon nodded, turning away from the viewport. The beast inside stirred with satisfaction. Fear was a powerful weapon—stronger than any superlaser. The destruction of Yag'Dhul's shipyards and the decimation of its population centers would send a clear message to every remaining CIS world: resistance meant annihilation.
The *Annihilator* and the main armada began maneuvering for the jump. Fondor awaited. Then Mon Cala. Then the final reckoning with Hutt space.
The Dragon's shadow lengthened once more.