Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 87 - Seven Hundred Warships!

The Centarea system, the Maldrud sector.

The Sentales system is located in the outer ring of the star system, close to important trade routes.

The Peremian trade route.

As a transportation hub, it has become a focal point of contention multiple times during the Clone Wars and the Galactic Civil War.

In the game Star Wars: War of the Empire, Centares is an important outpost of the Empire.

The Mardrud sector is named after the Imperial warlord "Teren Mardrud".

He was one of the military leaders of the "remnant empire" after the empire split.

In the New Jedi Order series, this sector is one of the battlegrounds of the Yuzhan Vong war.

The Sentales system, located on the edge of the Mardrud sector, was once an Imperial supply depot.

Now controlled by remnants of a warlord, smugglers, rebel spies, and Mandalorian mercenaries vie for a lost Jedi artifact, rumored to point to an ancient power in an unknown realm…

But that's another story.

Ryan shoved the projector controller back into Hal's hand, a bittersweet sense of satisfaction welling up inside him.

He knew all too well that this was how the galaxy operated, and that even the lofty ideals of the Separatist Alliance couldn't cure these deep-seated problems.

Politics, from ancient times to the present, from the Bronze Age to the Space Age, is always bound to rot.

Sometimes it's not just about money.

No one can truly solve this problem.

All Ryan could do was to take advantage of these corrupt rules, at least for a goal that was more noble than others'.

Although he himself knew in his heart that the way to achieve this goal was not entirely clean.

The flames of war have spread throughout the universe.

Days passed, and the reinforcements that were supposed to arrive never appeared.

After traveling to the Maldrud sector, Raine's glimmer of hope gradually faded as he looked at the situation before him.

He was just five votes short of the nomination, which ruined Dooku's plan.

Even with the help of community organizations, it will definitely be more difficult to gather such a close number of votes next time.

Count Dooku will definitely remember this defeat and will not give them another chance like this.

That's all the delaying tactics Rennes can pull out of the box.

There's no other way forward but to fight a head-on battle.

"Let's fight!"

Rein shook off these thoughts, strode across the bridge deck, and walked to the huge visual display.

The metallic blast shield made a dull thud as it slid down in his hands.

He then activated the holographic head-up display.

A cold blue light instantly filled the space in front of me.

Fifty million kilometers away, the interception minefield they laid out resembled an invisible thorny area.

At this moment, dozens of support ships were adjusting their positions rapidly behind the Allied fleet, and the first batch of ammunition could be clearly seen being quickly loaded into the cargo hold of the supply ship by robotic arms.

Seven hundred warships!
This number weighed heavily on his mind.

This is more than the First and Second Fleets combined.

Most of these warships are now rootless drifters, having lost their home planet, and their desire to return home is stronger than ever.

There are also 800 warships, which should be rushing to the scene from the territory of the five major star sectors community according to the plan.

Never before have separatist forces rallied on such a massive scale since the start of this interstellar war.

We can't use any fancy tactics this time.

Putting everything else aside, Rennes has never played such a rich baton before.

With so many warships and countless commanders, coordinating them was a disaster in itself.

Separatist fleets have always relied on overwhelming numbers, coupled with textbook-standard formations, to maintain their footing in battle.

The Republic will definitely try every means to break through their formation and then devour them piece by piece.

To prevent this from happening, everyone must stay firmly in their place, follow orders, and absolutely not try to be a hero.

"Report, sir!"

Godell's voice broke the silence on the bridge: "The intercept array has detected three hundred engine contrail signals."

Renn paused, his eyes fixed on the screen, as if confirming something.

His fingers flew across the control panel, typing in communication frequencies. His voice boomed throughout the ship via the intercom: "Red alert across the entire area! All personnel, immediately to combat positions! Enemy numbers: 300..."

“Six hundred…” Godell leaned forward abruptly, his voice rising sharply, “No! A thousand! A thousand engine cone signals detected!”

A chilling coldness instantly rose from Renn's back.

He watched as red icons representing enemy ships surged forth like a burst dam on the holographic head-up display, instantly overwhelming the markings of the interceptor array.

The enemy made no maneuvering or evasion whatsoever; they simply overwhelmed us with brute force!

In that instant, Renn felt himself being pulled back to Yussel, and before his eyes appeared the all-consuming red tide of the "Arena" that mercilessly wiped out all the pieces on the chessboard.

This feeling is so similar... that suffocating feeling of watching a devastating wave crash down on you, right there, with nowhere to escape.

Raine took a deep breath, suppressing the tightness in his throat, his voice a little dry: "Send an emergency communication to Kolumex immediately! Request all mobile reinforcements to come at once!"

"Sir?"

A questioning voice rang out, seemingly wanting to confirm his condition.

“I’m fine.” Ryan forced himself to keep his voice steady. “A thousand enemy signals are approaching at high speed. Immediately cut off all communication channels, leaving only narrow beam and optical communication.”

"They...are coming."

……

Carly Trilm had no time to think about anything else; her entire focus was fixed on the tactical situation map in front of her.

What the picture shows is practically a live broadcast of a disaster!

The intelligence clearly stated that the Allied fleet could outnumber the "Long Spear Fleet," but now the number of enemy ships that have appeared is three hundred more than theirs!
what does this mean?
Either the Republic has secretly crammed a thousand warships into each of its star sectors.

If that's the case, the Independent Galaxy Confederation won't last a month before it's finished.

Or... it wasn't just the "long-spear fleet" that came!
In either case, those guys in the naval intelligence department are in big trouble this time.

Carly gritted her teeth, a surge of anger rising to her head.

Those people in the Republic aren't stupid!
Of course they know we have a large number of people, so how could they not send more warships over?

She cursed in her heart.

“Tex, tell me something useful!” she commanded urgently, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the armrest of the conductor’s chair.

"The enemy is charging at full speed toward our front, sir," the tactical robot TX-103 replied in a flat, electronic voice. "There are no complex formation changes. The only thing worth noting is their approach route. Their intention is clear: they plan to crush us with sheer numbers. The minefields we've laid have only slightly slowed them down, but detection indicates they are accelerating again."

"..."

Just as Carly was intently staring at the vast battlefield map, an icon on the left edge began to flash rapidly.

That's the symbol of the "White Hand Fleet"!

The formation under the command of Ryan Bontri was ramping up its engine thrust to an astonishing 1000 units of acceleration, forming a standard combat column, and charging straight ahead like a drawn sword.

The engine nozzles of 120 warships spewed out dazzling flames, leaving neat trails in the void.

They were arranged in three straight columns.

On the far left is the heavy main battle line, composed of the most heavily armed warships.

In the middle are cruisers and frigates with greater maneuverability.

On the right is the auxiliary fleet, including the crucial aircraft carrier.

Almost simultaneously, the icons for the Tarsené Squadron and the Brix Squadron also lit up.

These two "unaffiliated" squadrons from the Lost Sector followed closely behind the "Repulse" and joined the charge without hesitation.

The number of dots representing the alliance on the screen instantly surged to 250.

"Mark the enemy's location immediately!" Carly gave the order decisively.

"Marking the location." Tex's processor completed the calculation instantly.

Carly nodded as she saw the marking was complete, feeling somewhat relieved.

"Signal the 'Clem' fleet! Order them to enter battle sequence one! Engines up to 1000 bars acceleration! Calculate interception time?"

"Fifty minutes later, the relative speed of the interception will be 30,000 kilometers per second." The robot reported the precise calculation result. After a brief pause, it asked, "Sir, may I issue a strategic assessment?"

"Go ahead."

"Based on the current balance of power and situation analysis, our probability of winning is 27.399%." TX-103's voice remained calm. "From a purely strategic perspective, withdrawing to the Kolumex star system, where we can join our reinforcements and fight from our defensive fortifications, is a wiser choice."

“Robots, this isn’t a simple arithmetic problem,” Carly retorted gently but firmly. “Centares is a signatory member of the Alliance. Look at the Maldrud Combat Squadron; it has thirty-seven Centares-flagged warships!”

Her tone was heavy as she continued, "If you insist on talking about data, then let me tell you, over sixty percent of the warships and crew members in our fleet have had their homeworlds fall to the Republic! The only reason they're still standing here with us is because they believe the Alliance will fight for them!"

“Psychological factors are often considered unstable variables in tactical models,” Tex responded calmly.

“No,” Carly’s voice carried a power, “For the vast majority of intelligent races, this ‘psychological factor’ is entirely controllable and reliable. When it’s on your side, the power it unleashes is beyond the calculation of any cold probability model… Come on, robot, let’s give those loyal lackeys an unforgettable lesson!”

The "Clem" fleet, together with the Salvara and Purkel combat squadrons, formed the rightmost edge of the Allied fleet.

A total of approximately 180 warships.

The massive hull of the "Sereno Star" trembled slightly amidst the roar of its sub-light-speed engines. The powerful thrust propelled it forward, and the entire formation followed closely behind, as if drawn by invisible threads, maintaining a disciplined formation.

To avenge those destroyed homes.

For the faint but still existing hope of liberation.

To protect the world that has not yet been affected by war.

In the name of the Confederation's freedom!

Regardless of the beliefs burning in the hearts of the crew members of each warship, at this moment, seven hundred shining points of light suddenly illuminated the cold starry sky of Centares.

Their brilliance ignites an era.

Or will it merely erupt for a moment and then return to eternal darkness?
No one knows.

But the very existence of these seven hundred warships is a testament to the will of the separatist alliance in the face of life and death.

(End of this chapter)