*Dagon Marek – POV*
The stars snapped back into existence as the fleet tore out of hyperspace.
Boz Pity hung ahead of us like a dying ember—its surface choked with smoke and ash clouds drifting through a dim atmosphere. Even from orbit the world looked wounded, scarred by industry and endless droid foundries grinding out war machines for the Confederacy.
But it wasn't the planet that drew my attention.
It was the wall of metal guarding it.
Ethan's tactical projection expanded across the bridge the moment our sensors locked onto the enemy formation.
The **CIS blockade fleet**.
All of it controlled by tactical droids.
Cold.
Precise.
Predictable.
The numbers scrolled across the display.
One **Lucrehulk Command Ship** carrying roughly **1,500 Vulture droid fighters**.
Thirteen additional **Lucrehulk battleships**, each packed with roughly **1,600 Vulture droids**.
Thirty **Recusant-class destroyers**.
Eighty **Munificent-class frigates**.
An enormous fleet.
More than enough to intimidate most Republic task forces.
But intimidation only worked when your opponent reacted the way you expected.
I had no intention of doing that.
"Formation confirmed," Ethan said.
Our fleet had emerged from hyperspace exactly where I wanted.
The formation resembled an ancient battlefield technique I had studied once long ago—an old Korean maneuver from the Imjin War.
The **Crane Wing Formation**.
A wide sweeping structure designed to encircle and crush larger forces.
Except this version had teeth.
At the very tip of the formation stood the **Terminus**.
Behind us, like a spear shaft of armored warships, drifted the **seven dreadnought battleships**.
Their massive hulls glowed faintly as their reactors surged toward combat output.
Further back, lines of **Acclamators**, **Consular cruisers**, and **Arquitens escorts** fanned outward like the wings of a hunting bird.
A trap.
And we had flown directly into the heart of the Separatist blockade.
Perfect.
"Enemy reaction?" I asked.
Ethan scanned the tactical feeds.
"Minimal fighter deployment detected."
That made my eyes narrow slightly.
Odd.
A fleet that size should have already flooded the void with Vulture droids.
Unless—
"The tactical droid doesn't see our fighters," I said quietly.
Ethan tilted his head.
"Clarify."
"Our hangars are masked behind the main hulls."
Meaning from the Separatist perspective…
This looked like a heavy capital ship assault.
No starfighter screen.
No carrier support.
Just a line of warships charging directly into the blockade.
Which meant their tactical calculations would assume something simple.
Brute force.
And brute force was easy to counter.
Unfortunately for them…
That wasn't what I was doing.
"Helm," I said calmly.
"Prepare attack maneuver."
The clone navigator looked back.
"Course?"
I allowed myself a small smile.
"The **Ackbar Slash**."
Several officers on the bridge exchanged quick glances.
The maneuver was still theoretical.
A capital ship tactic designed to punch through enemy fleets by turning a line of ships sideways through a defensive formation, allowing maximum broadside fire.
But only certain ships could perform it effectively.
Ships with extremely wide firing arcs.
Ships like the **Terminus**.
And the **Dreadnought battleships** behind us.
"Execute on my mark."
Outside the viewport, our fleet accelerated.
The **Terminus** surged forward first.
Seven dreadnoughts followed in perfect alignment behind us.
Massive engines roared across the void as the spear of warships drove straight toward the CIS blockade.
Munificent frigates began shifting formation.
Recusant destroyers adjusted vectors.
But they were already too late.
"Now."
The fleet turned.
Hard.
Our line of ships pivoted sideways as we tore straight into the enemy formation.
For a moment the stars vanished behind a storm of weapons fire.
And then—
The **Focused Spectral Array Cannon** fired.
A beam of blinding white energy erupted from the spar cannon of the *Terminus*.
It carved through space like a blade of sunlight. One shot for each frigate, and with a recharge time of 5 seconds
Ten **Munificent-class frigates** simply ceased to exist.
Their shields collapsed instantly under the beam's pressure before their hulls ruptured in expanding spheres of molten metal.
The blast tore a clean corridor straight through the blockade.
"Path cleared," Ethan reported.
"Continue advance."
The dreadnoughts behind us opened fire.
Heavy turbolasers roared across the void.
Missile launchers flashed.
Beam cannons mounted along their hulls lanced into nearby ships.
Munificent frigates exploded in chains of fire.
Recusant destroyers tried desperately to reposition, but our line of warships had already sliced between them.
Each dreadnought carried a hidden surprise.
Mounted along their port sections—
**SPHA-T artillery cannons.**
Originally designed as planetary siege weapons.
Now repurposed for fleet combat.
Brilliant lances of energy speared outward as the artillery beams fired.
Entire sections of the enemy line collapsed under the barrage.
Yet still…
No fighter swarm.
The tactical droid hesitated.
Calculating.
Trying to understand what it was seeing.
Which meant this was the moment.
"My first fleet battle," I murmured quietly.
Then I closed my eyes.
The Force flowed around me like an ocean.
Battle meditation began.
I reached outward across the fleet.
Thousands of minds.
Clone troopers.
Pilots.
Commanders.
Each one a point of focus in the Force.
I touched them gently.
Strengthening their awareness.
Sharpening their reflexes.
Guiding their instincts.
Suddenly the fleet moved as one organism.
"Two Acclamators per Munificent," I ordered calmly.
The tactical network updated instantly.
Acclamator squadrons broke formation and surged toward the remaining frigates.
"Light cruisers engage Recusant destroyers."
Consular and Arquitens vessels accelerated forward, missiles launching in brilliant streaks of light.
"Deploy starfighters."
Hangar doors opened across the fleet.
Hundreds.
Then thousands.
V-19 Torrents screamed into the void.
Behind them came the **Whisper Interceptors**.
Then the heavy **N-6 Scurrg bombers**.
The sky above Boz Pity exploded into a starfighter war.
But my focus remained on the capital ships.
"New formation," I said quietly.
"Arrowhead."
Our dreadnought line shifted.
Ships tightening into a narrow spear.
Then—
"Spiral formation."
The fleet twisted inward like a drill.
Designed to pierce through layered shield networks.
Directly toward the enemy flagship.
The **Lucrehulk command ship**.
"Spectral cannon charging," Ethan said.
The massive weapon hummed beneath the hull.
Energy building.
Target locked.
"Fire."
The beam erupted again.
It slammed into the Lucrehulk's shield bubble.
For three seconds the barrier held.
Then it shattered.
The beam speared directly into the enormous donut-shaped battleship.
The Lucrehulk broke apart in a cascade of fire.
Sections of the ring structure tore free and drifted away as secondary explosions rippled across the hull.
Behind us, missiles from Arquitens cruisers slammed into Recusant destroyers, crippling their engines.
SPHA-T beams from the dreadnoughts carved through another line of frigates.
The blockade was collapsing.
I opened my eyes.
The battlefield burned across the viewport.
Enemy ships exploding.
Fighters twisting through clouds of debris.
"Deploy bombers," I said calmly.
Because the battle was only just beginning.