**Chapter 405: Salvage of the Ancients**
**Dagon's POV**
With the girls effectively ending their relationship, they were still in command, so I decided the best course was to reassign them. They no longer had active fleet or army command in Mern-13 or the 12th Sector. I assigned them to Lantilles training — they could still learn a lot there, and it kept them safe while giving them purpose.
As a week remained before the planned attack on Ryloth, I decided to help fulfill my promise with Sienar Fleet Systems. I stood on the surface of the *Scimitar*, Ethan piloting with me in the vacuum of space. I wore a special modified Sith and Mandalorian Neo Crusader armor that I had freshly forged for space combat. We approached Malachor V's orbit, and using the Force carefully, I collected half of a Centurion-class battlecruiser, then slowly backed out of orbit and placed it on a freighter bound for Lantilles or Sienar.
Yep, that was the plan. Apparently the mass shadow generator had kept the ships in pristine condition, or the effects of the battle 4,000 years ago still partially damaged them, but their hulls hadn't degraded. Thousands of destroyed Republic and Mandalorian warships were a good deal.
So far, I had collected the hulls of 30 Centurion-class battlecruisers, each 1,200 meters long. Half that size didn't matter — only that I gathered enough to make a new design of a ship 1,900 meters long, and 25 of those ships.
I also collected the Venator ancestors, which were apparently Mandalore the Ultimate's battleships, each 3,000 meters long. Those were placed over the orbit of Benath, where I would soon visit and give them plans.
"Sir, how much longer are we doing this for?" Puck asked over the comm.
"Yeah, it's getting boring just backing up the ship," Lucky added.
"Yeah, and still I keep hearing voices. It's getting creepy," Devil said.
"Oh, so three Alpha-class ARC troopers are scared of ghosts while I carefully move massive ships out of a graveyard for salvage," I replied, focusing on lifting another half-hull with the Force. The massive wreckage groaned as it rose from the surface, ancient metal still holding together thanks to the planet's lingering effects.
The three ARC troopers chuckled nervously.
"Sir, with respect, this place gives even us the creeps," Puck said.
I smiled under my helmet. "Just a little longer. These ships are worth more than you know."
**Scene 2**
The work was painstaking but rewarding. Each hull I salvaged was a piece of history — Republic and Mandalorian vessels from the ancient wars, preserved in the shadow of Malachor V. The mass shadow generator had done its job too well, trapping them in time.
I guided another half-Centurion toward the waiting freighter, the massive structure moving like a slow, obedient giant under my will. The Force flowed through me, steady and balanced, no longer the chaotic storm it had been after Naboo.
"Sir, incoming transmission from Rath," Ethan reported.
"Put him through."
Rath's hologram appeared on my wrist comm. The Sienar representative looked excited.
"General Dagon! I have collected all the necessary parts and raw materials from the ships to have your debt paid in full. Also collected the various materials for the 3 billion credit project you are about to build. But I request your presence for the new plans."
"Okay. I am coming there."
"Ethan, pack it up and set course for Lianna."
"Understood, sir."
As the *Scimitar* turned away from Malachor V, I looked back at the graveyard of ships one last time. Thousands of wrecks still waited. This was only the beginning.
The girls' absence weighed on me, but I pushed it aside. They had made their choice. I had made mine.
The war waited for no one.