**Chapter 843: Morning Routines and Distant Victories**
**Scene 1: Devastation – Anakin's Cabin**
Entering the cabin, I dragged myself to the bed, where I collapsed, flat out and with a thud. It had been a mediocre day, and I was completely exhausted.
First, I spent half the night messing around with Arden. Quite a find, I can tell you. My amazement was boundless, so I didn't act entirely wisely. She was, after all, a legendary figure in her own right. However, what's done can't be undone, so I had to keep my promise. After talking with Ahsoka, I finally got Lin to the infirmary, where a doctor droid examined her, gave her some shots, and recommended moderate exercise and a couple of days of bed rest, along with a more nutritious diet. At that moment, the woman looked around with a kind of childish delight. Yeah, right, back in her day, none of that stuff existed. Afterwards, I escorted her to the cabin next to mine and, after some thought, gave her a datapad and data crystals with information. Lin swore not to leave, to lie down and eat, and then immediately buried herself in the screen. It seems like she's in for a lot of interesting things... and some disappointing ones too.
A light electric shock generated by a small bracelet prickled my skin, rousing me from my morning slumber. This device served not only as an alarm clock, but also as a local watch replacement—it displayed holographic numbers when pressed—and as a miniature comlink whose signals could also be configured to silently alert in several ways. Raising my hand to my eyes, I peered at the faintly glowing numbers. It was very early morning. Three fifty minutes past five on the fifth day of the fourth month of the fifteenth year, to be precise. One of those days when you need to rise bright and early and drag yourself to headquarters to review the latest segment and sketch out future action plans. Of course, a regular alarm would have been simpler and more effective—disrupting the established daily routine is a bit of a strain. Well, the effectiveness is debatable, but it would certainly have been more pleasant. However, for some time now the situation in my room has changed: I was no longer alone, and the new alarm clock was simply the result of comprehending the realities of living together...
Turning my head, I couldn't help but admire Lin, who was quietly snoring next to me, clutching my left arm. A scene that had become familiar and ordinary over the past two weeks.
Yes, at first I racked my brains—why, what, and how, trying to understand such sophisticated female logic—but I stopped in time, realizing the futility of my pathetic attempts. I'd rather have something simpler—a sword and a hot horse, as they say. Ultimately, I gave up on the reasons for what was happening and, as they say, went with the flow. In a way, this even boosted my ego. Lin may love someone else, she may have some hidden agenda—but damn him, she's sleeping with me! She chose me, not someone else. And anyway, she lives in my room, bringing a modicum of pleasure and... comfort? The warmth of home? I don't know how to describe it all exactly... The pent-up psychological tension melted away; I even caught myself smiling more often. Sure, there were a few difficulties and funny moments—like changing the alarm clock—but ultimately, it was worth it. Neither Arden nor I thought about the future, and frankly, we didn't want to. And, really, what kind of personal life planning do Hutts need when there's war all around?
However, some issues needed to be resolved. For example, the status of Lin herself. Having appeared on the ship, the young woman inevitably sparked numerous rumors. However, the attitude toward her, though wary, was still positive. However, the more time passed, the more natural became the general desire to find out who she really was. It was only natural that her legalization had to be addressed. Under the Jedi—and indeed in general—the woman will conceal herself in the Force, so there won't be any problems. It's funny that she had to learn this technique already here, on the ship. Such methods weren't common in her time, but she mastered it quickly. However, for the "general public" an excuse was still needed. Arden herself suggested a solution. That's how a mercenary hand-to-hand combat instructor appeared on our squadron.
Well, and concurrently—"the General's own mistress."
That was the epithet I heard while walking down one of the corridors. And the officers I knew—like Renown and Lee Noriega—though they maintained an impassive demeanor when we met, their eyes gave them away. And the strangest thing was, there was nothing but approval and understanding, even a kind of relief, I think. After sharing this "problem" with Arden, she gave me a perfectly understandable answer, after which I could only bang my head on the tabletop—the conclusion was so obvious.
Freeing myself from Lin's embrace—I managed to do so without waking her—I slipped into the bathroom, where I took a quick shower. A proper water shower, the privilege of officers and senior command staff. Dagon ships each had these fancy showers and hot baths similar to the Jedi Temple hot springs but how did Dagon have these, well still he has his own accounts sure, and battle meld. Anakin couldn't do that but still.
**Scene 2: Bridge Routine**
On the way to the wheelhouse, I stopped by the officers' mess, grabbed a quick bite, and headed to the ship's wheelhouse, grabbing a couple of thermos flasks of coffee along the way. We'll definitely need some.
Although it must be said that no rush was expected. It's the most ordinary routine work—but no less necessary for that. Occasional surges now occur only when fighting for a new city begins and even then, the stress lasts a couple of days at most. And then, based on the initial results, we can see whether our plan worked or not; how well it was executed; and what adjustments are needed. However, so far, luck has been on our side. How's luck? I have a team of top-notch specialists under my command—that's what determines our success, not some will of Fate, the dictates of the Force, or the great Random.
Our only headache was Jigat. The capital resisted stubbornly, and in the two weeks since the we've made only minor advances, taking control of just three districts. What percentage of the total that is—you'd have to ask Tinker, who, if not a droid, likes precise numbers? But in other areas, everything was going well. First, Hallam joined Sahab, Tars, Sarkem, and Arsam. Then we took the smallest city in Neimoidia, Lakht, right off the bat. Now, clone squads are finishing clearing the last district of Yusu. Ultimately, besides the capital, we only have three cities left to take: Zafar, Fanum, and Kesh. We're currently preparing to storm the latter. And this task is far from trivial, as droids, despite their relative "stupidity," learn quite quickly, and using the same tactics against them repeatedly could lead to serious problems. That's why you have to rack your brains every time, looking for new opportunities, inventing tactical moves and learning new ways to use available resources.
After wandering through the corridors and elevators for about five minutes, I finally arrived at my destination. At such an early hour, the control room was sparsely populated... somewhat sensible. The second-line duty shift consisted of sixteen operator-technicians, led by a clone midshipman. In the left, "aviation," control room, a dispatch team of a dozen sentient beings was twiddling their thumbs, and somewhere deep in the ship, another ten operators were hanging around at a backup control panel. According to the main battle schedule, the number of sentient beings in the main control room alone exceeded sixty, including the headquarters. Well, right now, of its entire staff, the only visible ones were Lee Noriega, a couple of lieutenants—judging by their brazen red faces, Vermetter and Pollard, Tinnych, and from the naval staff, Admiral Lusitan Kalgen.
"Good morning, gentlemen officers!" I greeted them cheerfully, approaching the tactical table and placing a tray of coffee on the nearest empty seat.
"Silent as a grave," the Jedi confirmed.
The woman glanced at the device screen.
"So, what was I talking about... Yes, let's continue…"
The morning briefing unfolded with the familiar rhythm of war. Reports from the ground forces, updates on droid movements, and projections for the next push into Kesh. Anakin sipped his coffee, listening intently as the officers laid out the latest developments. The war on Cato Neimoidia was grinding forward, district by district, but the momentum was theirs.
**Scene 3: Coruscant – Double Serving Bar**
Coruscant.
History has lost the original name of this bar, just as the memory of its former owner has vanished. But the place's recent history has become more interesting. Duke Cameron, who purchased this building on the roof of a large complex more than twenty years ago, completely redesigned its interior, and used the ad "Every second drink is a double!" to attract customers. Naturally, the name "Double Serving" quickly became attached to the bar. Duke, without hesitation renamed it...
The door opened, admitting the bulky figure of Yo Mohebbi, one of the regulars; the Duros owned a small shipping company and often delivered shipments of alcohol for Duke.
"It's been a while since I've seen you."
"Good work, my friend, good work!" Yo declared, taking a seat at the counter. "I managed to secure a military contract for spare parts delivery. It was a bit of a slog, Old Dorothy nearly lost her hyperdrive, but in the end, we made it on time and made a tidy profit. That's enough for repairs and even some equipment... How are you, Duke?"
"Not bad, Yo, not bad," Duke pushed a glass of drink toward the Duros. "Here, I got a brand new holoprojector at a reduced price. Just installed it today."
"Oh, you replaced that wreck that was showing two channels at once? That's simply magnificent. What are you waiting for? Turn on the machine."
Duke chuckled and clicked a key. The large screen immediately came to life, and the news anchor's voice echoed throughout the room.
"In other news. Today at two o'clock this afternoon, the planet Yag'Dhul was attacked by supreme commander Dagon with its shipyards and surrounding fleet destroyed. It occurred with numerous other operations that allowed the Corellian trade spine and Rimma trade route to fall under control. Plus the new offensive at Cato Neimoidia led by none other general Skywalker from the first days of the clone wars before he was overshadowed by general Dagon, and now ladies and gentlemen Skywalker is back leading the assault on Cato Neimoidia the heart of the Trade Federation. Many believe are the main part of the CIS due to their involvement in Naboo all those years ago. These offensive results in the 18th sector being brought officially under the entirety of Republic control while the only sectors remaining are the second, twelfth, fourth, Thirteenth and fourteenth."
"And now on to the economic news. The Confederate credit has fallen again in the last 24 hours, now trading at seventy-one point forty-two percent of one Republic credit. This latest decline—this time by sixty-five percent—is attributed to news of another batch of nova crystals mined on Mygeeto, which is now under Republic control."
Duke leaned on the counter, shaking his head. "The Dragon's on the move again. Yag'Dhul, Cato Neimoidia... It's only a matter of time before the whole Outer Rim falls."
Yo took a long sip, his Duros eyes gleaming. "Good for business, though. Military contracts are pouring in. Just hope the war doesn't reach Coruscant again."
The bar patrons murmured in agreement, the holoscreen casting flickering lights across their faces. The war was far away, but its echoes reached even this rooftop haven. The Dragon of the Republic continued his crusade, and the galaxy held its breath.