Empire's Vanguard: Sovereignty | Star wars

46. War and Dissent

"Thus it is that in war the victorious strategist only seeks battle after the victory has been won, whereas he who is destined to defeat first fights and afterwards looks for victory."

Sun Tzu

||Location: Corellian sector, Corellian system, Centerpoint Station||

|| Timeline: 25 ABY ||

The command room aboard Centerpoint Station hummed with a subtle yet tense energy, the air thick with the gravity of the situation. I had been engaged in countless war meetings before, but this one felt different—a mixture of desperation and thinly veiled hope hung over the room. The Yuuzhan Vong War had already stretched our resources to their breaking point, and I couldn't shake the sense that every decision now felt like teetering on the edge of a precipice.

Grand Admiral Gilad Pellaeon stood across from me, his face weathered and solemn. The man had seen too much war, too much death, yet here he was, still dedicated to the remnants of the Empire, now allied with the New Republic against a common enemy. His silence spoke volumes; he was no longer the bright-eyed officer with dreams of conquest but a man weighed down by the reality of endless warfare. Even after the fall of Dibrook, Pellaeon's resolve seemed intact, though tempered by the loss.

"Counsellor Kodo," Pellaeon said, his voice calm but firm, "we need to hit the Yuuzhan Vong harder. Our retreat at Dibrook emboldened them. They'll see this alliance as weak if we don't retaliate now."

I narrowed my eyes, already feeling the crackling tension rising between us. It was the third time today he'd repeated this argument, and while I understood his need for a strong counteroffensive, it was a reckless strategy in the long run.

"You want to throw more resources into a war we can barely sustain, Grand Admiral?" My voice cut through the room, laced with irritation. "We've lost too much already. Another aggressive move will only drain us further."

Pellaeon straightened his back, his military instincts kicking in. "What other option do we have? The longer we wait, the stronger they get. We're running out of time."

"We're running out of everything," I said, leaning forward and resting my hands on the table. "Supplies, troops, morale. We can't keep fighting this war like it's a traditional campaign. The Yuuzhan Vong don't fight for territory—they fight for destruction. We'll never match them in sheer numbers or endurance."

General Bylsma of the New Republic, a stocky man with a sharp temper, chimed in. "So you propose we just sit back and wait for them to finish us off? That's madness."

"No, I propose we be smarter," I snapped, my eyes locking onto his. "We can't afford to waste what little we have left. Time is not on our side, General. If we continue this path, we'll run out of men and material before we ever make a dent in their fleet."

The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling uncomfortably on everyone present. I could see the tension flicker across Pellaeon's face. He hated the thought of inaction as much as I did, but he also knew I wasn't wrong. We were bleeding ourselves dry with every passing day.

The door to the command center suddenly burst open, and a harried officer rushed in, his face pale. "Counsellor! A Yuuzhan Vong fleet has been spotted approaching Shramar."

I felt a jolt of urgency, the cold grip of reality settling in my gut. "How many ships?" I demanded.

"Enough to level the entire system, sir."