**Chapter 864: Infiltration and Reorganization**
**Scene 1: Transport Liner Cabin – San Chiya POV**
Entering her small cabin on the transport liner, Midshipman Zina Tagris tossed her duffel bag onto her bunk and then went to the bathroom to wash her face. Turning on the faucet, she placed her cupped hands under the stream of water, then splashed it generously onto her face. A couple of minutes later, after drying her face with a towel, she looked into the slightly fogged mirror. An unremarkable face, short chestnut hair, brown eyes... She couldn't be called beautiful, but...
For her, it was the ideal appearance.
For in reality her name was San Chiya, of the "children of Yun-Yuuzhan"...
San Chia was born twenty-two years ago, on the craftworld Brenzlit Vurghal, the "Timid Elder" which had been one of the first to arrive in this galaxy several decades earlier. Using the local gric coordinates, they ended up in square E-5. There, the nearly dead craftworld landed on a habitable planet, where Vong formation began. After encountering the Chiss Ascendancy, the Vong temporarily retreated back to this sector, lying low and gathering their strength.
San Chia came from the caste of tricksters, followers of Yun-Harla, the goddess of lies and deceit. From childhood, her parents groomed her for infiltration into galactic society, so that she like many others, would conduct reconnaissance and exploration, so that when the main fleet arrived, they would have all the information they needed to conquer this galaxy and cleanse it of all evil. At the age of twelve, her transformation began. The caste of shapers worked hard breaking and reshaping her body to more closely resemble the locals, the most common species in this galaxy-humans. Only her face remained virtually unchanged, but it was successfully camouflaged by the finest uglith mask.
And so, a year ago, at the request of the warrior caste, she was inducted into the Anaxes Academy. There, she began training to become a naval officer and even achieved some success becoming the sixteenth in the accelerated class that graduated a week ago. San Chia followed the precepts of her caste, one of which could be summed up in just one word: Tchurokk. Listen. And she listened, absorbing the knowledge and never revealing her true nature or her thoughts. She had almost grown accustomed to these kana a bar, these maggot droppings, these damned droids that constantly scurried around. However, San Chia silently thanked the goddess Yun-Harla that she had been sent not to this Confederacy of Independent Systems, but to the Republic.
In fact, after establishing a base on Belkadan, in square L-9, things moved much more quickly. The girl knew of at least fifty agents dispatched throughout the galaxy. Her homeworldship, now the colony capital, resting on a lake, was not left out. One of the scouting teams, traversing the Chiss Ascendancy's territories along the very edge of the galaxy, stumbled upon a state of the Si-ruk race. Research began, but even from the first conclusions, it was clear they could use them for their own purposes.
Chiya herself was currently en route to Coruscant. Having graduated from the Sixteenth Class, she was given the chance to choose her destination, and after some analysis, she chose Mern-Thirteen, a GAR unit led by the recently appointed Supreme Commander of the Republic, a certain Dagon Marek. Having followed this commander's combat record, Chiya concluded that surveillance would bear fruit. After contacting command, she received approval for her plan.
Taking one last look in the mirror, San Chia whispered with just her lips.
- Do'ro ik-vong prat…
"Yeah I wouldn't get too comfortable," a voice appeared from behind her.
Before she could blink a red lightsaber pierced her chest.
Pain. Incredible pain. Then fire burning her internal body to dust as she fell. She saw a figure cloaked in darkness before darkness claimed her too.
The mirror reflected a perfectly ordinary face—nothing that would draw attention. San Chiya allowed herself a small, private smile. The uglith mask was flawless, blending her into the background of galactic society. No one would suspect the Yuuzhan Vong infiltrator beneath the unassuming midshipman exterior.
She had been preparing for this role her entire life. The shapers had reshaped her body to mimic humans perfectly. Only her face remained mostly unchanged, hidden behind the mask. She whispered the prayer to Yun-Harla, committing herself to the path of deception and reconnaissance.
The words had barely left her lips when a voice sliced through the quiet cabin like a blade.
"Yeah I wouldn't get too comfortable."
A red lightsaber ignited behind her, its crimson glow casting eerie shadows. Before she could react or turn, the blade plunged through her chest. Agony exploded through her body, white-hot and unrelenting. The dark figure twisted the weapon, and fire consumed her from within, burning away the Vong enhancements and the carefully crafted disguise.
As she collapsed to the floor, her vision fading, she caught a final glimpse of the cloaked figure—shadow and wrath incarnate—before everything went black.
**Scene 2: Dagon POV**
"Another one. Interesting but a sleeper agent. Perhaps I should investigate this further," Dagon said as he suddenly realized he was looking at terrified passengers.
'Crap.'
"Nothing to see here folks just a Separatist saboteur. Troopers dispose of her body," Dagon said as he signaled the shuttle local security officers.
"Yes sir."
Dagon stood in the narrow corridor, the red lightsaber still humming faintly in his grip. The Yuuzhan Vong agent—disguised as the unassuming midshipman—lay crumpled at his feet, her body already disintegrating from the dark side energy that had consumed her.
"Another one. Interesting but a sleeper agent. Perhaps I should investigate this further," he muttered, deactivating the blade with a snap-hiss.
The passengers in the nearby compartments stared in wide-eyed terror, some backing away, others frozen in shock. Dagon cursed inwardly. 'Crap.'
"Nothing to see here folks. Just a Separatist saboteur. Troopers dispose of her body," he said calmly, signaling the local security officers who had rushed to the scene.
"Yes sir," one clone trooper replied, moving quickly to secure the area and remove the body.
Dagon stepped back, his mind already racing. Another Vong infiltrator. They were finding more of them lately—agents embedded in key Republic positions. This one had been heading to Coruscant, likely targeting Mern-Thirteen. He would need to investigate further. The Vong threat was growing, and he couldn't allow them to compromise his plans.
**Scene 3: Mern-Thirteen Reorganization – Anakin POV**
Yesterday we arrived on Coruscant. There was a ton of work to do. The bulk of Mern-Thirteen had arrived a little earlier and had already spread out to their respective deployment sites. Ground forces had already occupied the barracks and begun routine operations: vehicle maintenance, gear repair, and resupply. Some ships, mostly transports, had also docked on the landing pads near the barracks. Clone marshal commander Blam, having been promoted, commanded both the Thirteenth Legion, which wasn't part of any of our clone corps and was a separate unit, and these four Stormtrooper Corps: the Sixtieth, Sixty-First, Sixty-Second, and Sixty-Third; the clones were busy preparing and even managed to participate in our army's training. Although...perhaps we should call the clones stormtroopers by now?
In total, this army consisted of four corps, plus several separate units like Yves Vanko's Thirty-Ninth Rocket Marine Regiment and two Duros space marine regiments under Colonels Ellors Madak and Kadan Bille. The total number of troops in Mern-Thirteen was almost three hundred and fifty thousand, and the organics numbered almost half a million.
And we haven't even started the second stage of the reorganization yet.
The fleet split. Some hovered in orbit around Coruscant, near the north pole, while the other half—the damaged ships—docked with the orbital structures surrounding Centax Two. Repairs to the damage had already begun, along with resupply. At least the Triumphs and the new Resurgents had solar ionization reactors and kyber reactors, which didn't require such frequent refueling. In today's reality, this isn't such a critical issue, but in canon, the increased autonomy of Imperial ships with solar ionization reactors had repeatedly saved many lives.
Yes, Moff Fliri Vorru, commander of Sector Two, essentially sabotaged my order, but it was difficult to undermine legally. He's an overly experienced bastard, with both his own influence and outside help. He clearly lobbies for the interests of many, and this sixty-five-year-old Corellian certainly has his own agenda.
And so, taking him down will be difficult. Or rather, it would be difficult. Yes, the Moff was dishonest, but considering that many senators are even more shady... compared to them, Vorru looks like a downright good boy.
Although he has ties to some criminal groups, particularly smuggling groups, he has a good cover, making it virtually impossible to bring him to justice. This unique individual, in fact, trades information, sharing patrol routes in his sector.
If not for one "but." One that Vorru himself likely doesn't even suspect. One of the groups, the Sharp Blades—a small pirate gang—re-sells information obtained from the Moff if the target is too difficult for them. And by coincidence, one of their regular customers is a certain Summit Firdun who also happens to be a low-ranking commander in the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Of course, he uses the information for his own purposes, but the fact remains, and the Moff can be prosecuted for treason.
I selected several candidates, after which I approved the new appointments. There were two of them: one concerned Sector 19, where Oswald Teshik would take over as Moff and the young Miltin Takel was dispatched hastily to Nubia.
Anakin Skywalker reviewed the latest reports in the Mern-Thirteen headquarters, the bustling command center alive with activity. The reorganization was proceeding smoothly, but the political maneuvering was just beginning.
"The fleet is splitting as planned," he said to the assembled officers. "Damaged ships are docking at Centax Two for repairs and resupply. The Triumphs and Resurgents with their new reactors will need less frequent maintenance, giving us greater operational flexibility."
Clone Marshal Commander Blam nodded. "The ground forces are settling in. The Thirteenth Legion and the four Stormtrooper Corps are conducting joint training exercises. We're preparing for the next phase."
Anakin leaned back, rubbing his chin. "Moff Fliri Vorru is proving difficult to remove legally. He's sabotaging orders while maintaining plausible deniability. But we have leverage—his connections to the Sharp Blades pirate gang and their sales of patrol data to Summit Firdun of the CIS. Treason charges will stick."
The officers murmured in agreement. Oswald Teshik and Miltin Takel were strong candidates for the new appointments. The reorganization would strengthen Republic control over key sectors.
Anakin allowed himself a small smile. The pieces were falling into place. The Republic was changing, and he was proud to be part of it.