Rothana.
The seat of power, the seat of one of the final bastions of hope for a fledgling force that represented one of the few cohesive vestiges of Republic rule. With the entire Galaxy on the verge of collapse, with communications reduced to almost absolutely nothing and with coherent command and control stripped bare for all to denigrate, what was left? Nothing. Only those smart enough to take what little they could find, create their own ways, and flee the ensuing chaos.
Commander Zane Watts was one such man. A Jedi-- yes. Absolutely, a Jedi Knight, fully ordained and powerful enough with his stature in the Republic military to command his own battlegroup. That battlegroup was now the bastion of hope over the planet of Rothana. A tenuous agreement had been signed between Zane and the remnant government of the planet: the military prowess, knowledge and capabilities of Zane's battlegroup, in exchange for what vehicles and vessels of war that Rothana Heavy Engineering, a subsidiary of Kuat Drive Yards once upon a time, could make for them. It was a fair deal. In essence, it gave the Republic soldier command of his own world that he could turn into a fortress. It was not a bad deal, truth told. Now in charge of the fighting men and women of the planet, it gave Zane's group a chance to survive and rebuild.
Once, it had been called Jedi Strike Operations. A beautiful rapid-response team commanded from one of the very few Valiance-class Star Destroyers ever commissioned by the Republic, led by one of their best-trained and well-loved commanders - the clone of Jedi Master Ben Watts. Strike Ops had a single mission: take the fight to the Dark Side however possible. Zane's love of warfare and commando flash-training made him the perfect candidate for the job. With their small-unit focus, their ability to deploy multiple commando teams led by Jedi to different battlefields and their single-minded unity of necessity, Strike Ops was a largely successful group.
That all had to change, didn't it?
The one perk to having a Jedi-oriented Republic warfleet was that multiple Jedi from across the Galaxy had been with Zane when everything went critically wrong. Experienced or not, they came to Strike Ops to learn, to train, even just to visit or as a waystation to other parts of the Galaxy - and then the nuclear weapons started deploying. On his ship at that moment in time, dozens of Jedi were available - and they all went with him at that time. What didn't go with him did one thing: spread the word.
The Jedi, and the Republic, would stand here, at the edge of the Galaxy. Tell your friends: Zane was taking command.
Aboard the Execution in Autumn, Commander Zane Watts surveyed his domain. The beautiful planet Rothana below, his Valiance-class Star Destroyer above flanked by its two Venator escorts, filled to the brim with starfighters and tanks and shuttles and whatever else they could carry. It wasn't much; the ship was barely functioning on crew and what few Force-users they had left were still working to contain the damage left to the ship itself. But they survived. They would continue to survive. He simply hoped that what messages he'd put out there for other Jedi and Republic leaders to find him - encrypted, naturally - would bear fruit. Perhaps a Jedi hopeful would stumble on the beacon over Ossus. Perhaps Coruscant would provide a few Jedi to the cause. He didn't know. All he had was hope.
Let them come, Zane thought to himself. He knew they would.