"Attack!" came a shout from the forward positions.
A moment later, Obi-Wan saw thousands of new droids begin their march toward the Republic troop positions in endless rows. Hundreds and thousands of the Confederacy's mechanical soldiers, generously pouring fire onto the Republic positions, advanced inexorably and inevitably. Like a sentient's foot upon a bug's dwelling.
Only one small detail worried Obi-Wan.
The Republic base had now become that bug's dwelling.
From the very first battle, he had begun to suspect they were being drawn into a trap. Christophsis was too attractive a target, rich in its crystal mines and minerals. The Senator from Alderaan, Bail Organa, had essentially taken it upon himself to organize a refugee camp on the planet. The ruling elite had managed to flee the planet, taking all valuables with them. The ordinary inhabitants were left to languish in slavery under the CIS heel.
Anakin had rightly noted (though Obi-Wan caught himself thinking he would never directly support this hypothesis) that if Organa hadn't been on the planet, or if someone who wasn't an important figure in the Senate had been in his place, the Republic would never have thrown such significant forces into liberating this world.
Whatever political disagreements were raging in the Senate between Chancellor Palpatine and Senator Organa, the former turned out to be no slouch, having secured Jedi intervention in resolving the issue of the Christophsis occupation. And along with it, assistance for Organa.
Now, the planet wasn't exactly depopulated... Most of the population that had survived the occupation had been transported to a safe place by Republic warships.
And Christophsis had turned into a battlefield.
Even though the Republic had managed to break the orbital blockade of the planet, land a relatively successful assault force, and seize a massive beachhead — not just somewhere on the outskirts, but in the capital — the droids were not so easy to break. The remaining ships of the siege group had tested the Jedi's Venators, busy evacuating the population, time and again, and each time they retreated to the backwaters of the system, to Christophsis's moon.
But as soon as both ships had departed orbit for the sector army headquarters, the Separatist ships returned to geostationary orbit. And the planet's connection with the outside world was cut off again.
Obi-Wan considered it unsafe to leave one of the Venators in orbit. Despite all their power, they couldn't compete one-on-one with the five Munificents and one Lucrehulk that made up the CIS forces. If Obi-Wan hadn't sent both ships to the base for resupply, they would have fallen yesterday with the arrival of new CIS ships.
And in fact, today's CIS offensive was the result of yesterday's reinforcements. Scouts had noted that the enemy had added three more Munificents and one Providence-class ship to the six already in orbit.
The latter was a new CIS design, essentially their answer to the latest Venators. Designed by the Quarren, it had not only good armament and protection but also almost three hundred droid starfighters. More than a worthy answer to a Republic ship from Kuat Drive Yards.
"Scouts report over two hundred thousand droids," his former Padawan shared the latest operational situation. "That makes the task a bit more complicated, Master."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan began in his usual mentor's tone, but noticed Skywalker flinch at his words, as if expecting the start of another sermon. "Anakin," the Jedi said more gently. "You know you don't have to call me that."
"It's complicated, Master," the young Jedi smiled. "It all happened so suddenly..."
The glorious victory over the Separatist armada in the Battle of Kamino had brought unexpected dividends. Anakin, without any trials, had been knighted. Unheard of, by the traditions of the Order. But it wasn't in Obi-Wan's nature to contradict the Council. Anakin, stunned by the news, accepted congratulations from his friends while Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Mace Windu conversed unhurriedly.
"The darkness is gathering," Mace said. "I feel the Dark Side growing stronger in the Unknown Regions. That flash... we traced it to the Gordian Reach, but beyond that... we are powerless."
"Could this be the work of the Sith?" asked Obi-Wan. "Distracting our attention from what's happening right under our noses."
"Shrouded in impenetrable darkness, the future is," said Yoda. "Blind we are. The creation of the clone army, we overlooked it. The Dark Side has enveloped the Order. Troubled for the Jedi, I am."
"We are strong," Windu said decisively. "Our scouts are already looking for this Sidious. And if he exists, we will find him."
"Is that so?" Yoda said ironically. Then, seeing the lack of understanding in the eyes of those present, he continued. "Knight Dougan."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. Rick Dougan was like a thorn in Anakin's side. The former Padawan was literally beside himself at even the slightest mention of this Jedi.
"This Knight is a cause for concern," Mace remarked. "What he did at the Petranaki Arena, those abilities..."
"But the healers didn't find a grain of the Dark Side in him," Obi-Wan grew wary. "I fought side by side with him on Kamino. Aside from arrogance and bluntness, I didn't sense he was tainted by the Dark Side."
"Nevertheless, he used Destruction," Windu revealed, surprising the Knight. Watching the lack of understanding in Kenobi's eyes, he continued. "It's a Sith technique."
"Having accumulated energy," Yoda continued, "he released it, directing it at the droids. But at that moment, his rage, every Jedi felt. Pain. Fear. Hatred."
"Then why did you let him leave the Temple?" Kenobi wondered. "He should have been interrogated..."
"He did not ask for our permission," Yoda noted sadly. "Setting out on his wanderings, broken and shattered, he returned from them as a monolith. The Force has grown in him. Though he carefully hides it."
"He should be arrested and interrogated," Kenobi insisted. "We cannot allow a Sith spy in our ranks."
"He is not a Sith," Windu rejected this. "There is no Dark Side in him. But we do not rule out that he has another source of knowledge besides the Order."
"A holocron?" Kenobi suggested.
"Perhaps," Yoda spread his hands. "Unknown to us, it is. Caution, we must exercise. Dooku has begun recruiting Acolytes of the Dark. Their number is growing. Sith they are not, but no less dangerous they are."
"One of them was spotted on Christophsis. The Chancellor has demanded urgent action from us," Mace explained. A moment later, he added, "Palpatine demands our intervention. Senator Organa is helping refugees on that planet. They are blockaded by the CIS fleet."
"You are sending me and Anakin to Christophsis?" Kenobi clarified.
"Precisely," Yoda confirmed. "The Chancellor insists on this."
The Jedi Knight grimaced, as if something sour had appeared in his mouth.
"Palpatine is acting authoritarian," he remarked. "He cannot demand anything from us. Only the Senate..."
"The Senate consists of sentients," Mace remarked. "And right now, most of them support the Chancellor. We cannot oppose the will of the Senate."
"But what if Dooku was right?" Kenobi asked, lowering his voice. "What if the Sith Lord controls the Senate?"
"Then your former apprentice, you may need," Yoda looked into Obi-Wan's eyes. "Our weapon against the Dark Side, he is. Much you must teach him, Obi-Wan. And first of all — responsibility for others."
Kenobi stared into the grand master's eyes for a second. Then, yielding to Yoda's wisdom, Kenobi bowed.
* * *
The moment The Resolute emerged from hyperspace, a stream of enemy salvoes crashed against its forward shields. A moment later, the second Venator materialized to port. Another second, and three small signatures of Pelta-class frigates formed a vertical triangle around the capital ships.
"The deflectors are holding, Admiral," one of the clones reported. Yularen nodded silently.
"Launch the fighters," he ordered. "Concentrate fire on the enemy flagship."
"Yes, sir," the clone saluted.
He didn't like the Jedi's plan. Not at all. Too reckless, too dangerous...
One look at the enemy forces made it clear that the Separatists had managed to pull in additional forces. It was possible that this time, with just a pair of Venators and three attached Peltas — which Dougan had practically fought to get — they wouldn't be able to break such a blockade.
The Separatists, who had ringed the planet, were re-forming to increase the number of ships firing on the Republic cruisers. Scanners showed hordes of droid starfighters rapidly approaching Yularen's ships. Almost half of the Separatist ships quickly targeted the Venators. A Pelta, which had been positioned to the right of The Resolute, exploded, breaking apart.
"Maybe the Jedi's plan will work after all," the thought flashed through the admiral's mind. But he hastened to push it out of his head. Jedi weren't commanders. Not admirals. Not officers. They didn't have...
"The Rhino has emerged from hyperspace," a clone reported.
Indeed, on the far side of Christophsis's orbit from the Republic forces, the signature of the Jedi's Acclamator appeared, which instantly opened fire on the largest Confederacy ship.
"Admiral Yularen," a hologram of the Jedi appeared. Dougan, despite the fact that his situation was dire — a Lucrehulk and four Munificents against a frankly not-very-strong cruiser — was smiling. "Your mission is complete. You may withdraw."
"But General," Yularen began to object, "we can't leave you outnumbered..."
"The Lucrehulk has exploded, sir!" a clone shouted, pointing at the signature of the Trade Federation ship breaking apart.
"What the...?!" the admiral gasped, watching another ship among those opposing the Jedi fly into pieces.
"Withdraw, Admiral," Dougan reminded him. "The Seps will try to take it out on you. Switch to defense."
"Yes, sir," the admiral agreed after a fire broke out on the left bridge of the second Venator. Whatever the Jedi had cooked up, it was working. Having lost two ships, the Separatists reduced their pressure on Yularen's ships, allowing the admiral to turn around.
By the time the last fighters were recovered aboard the Venators, Dougan had turned two more Munificents into wreckage. Seeing that Yularen's ships had concentrated fire on shooting down CIS fighters while simultaneously recovering their own for rotation, the Separatist commander began to shift his subordinate armada toward the planet's north pole. The surviving frigate from the group opposing the Jedi broke away, escaping the Acclamator's fire. The Jedi's cruiser essentially didn't even pay it any attention, moving in for a landing on the planet.
Dozens of LAATs shuttled in an unending stream between the cruiser and the surface, delivering clone units to the planet.
"They're gathering all their forces into a fist," the admiral hastened to warn the Jedi about the enemy's maneuvers.
"Nothing to worry about, Admiral," Dougan assured him. He looked away, staring somewhere to the side. "Holy crap!... We've been spotted!" the Jedi's hologram flickered, as if the cruiser had been hit by enemy fire. "Raise the shields!"
* * *
After the droid commander of the last Munificent-class frigate reported to his superiors about the destruction of most of the fleet due to Republic action, he received orders to retreat to the planet's northern hemisphere.
"Roger roger," the droid reported. As soon as the hologram of the commanding droid disappeared, R3 whistled to ask me what the next orders would be.
"Block communications," I ordered. "We're moving to the rendezvous point."
The Munificent-class frigate was used by the Banking Clan to transport valuables. With the start of the war, the ships were repurposed as support forces. It would be ridiculous to claim that this little ship, armed with a dual heavy turbolaser, a pair of ion cannons, two dozen dual turbolaser cannons, twenty quad turbolaser turrets, and eight anti-aircraft guns, could go one-on-one with a Republic Venator. Of course, the fate of an Acclamator after meeting a pair of such frigates would be sealed.
But I didn't have just one Acclamator.
I had to postpone the idea of capturing the Katana Fleet for better times. Even though the Lethan had pleased me in a secret report that the ships were all right and most were ready to move to a new address, I had to hold my inner hamster back. The Dark Forces had waited several decades for their moment. They could wait a little longer.
I needed Vizsla, Vette, and Atrox for more urgent matters.
Thanks to the Fury's cloaking system, the enemy's disposition became known to me. And so the plan for Operation 'Divide and Conquer' was born.
Yularen, with two Venators and three Peltas, engaged one group in battle, while I, Vizsla, Vette, and three commandos, secretly — with the red-skinned Lethan's skilled piloting of the Fury — snuck aboard one of the Munificents.
R3, whose functionality had been restored to proper levels after a service repair on Coruscant, was brought to me by the obliging Atrox, who had stopped by for the astromech on the way. Having received the name 'Little Brother' for his loyalty to the cause, the droid shone in red with black contours and eagerly joined the landing group.
"Ahsoka," I said, to avoid exposing the Fury in front of the Jedi sprout, I was flying with the 'Alphas' to the meeting point with the Hands on a Republic shuttle. So the final briefing was in the hangar. "Stay on the Rhino. And don't set foot off the ship without Captain Kreeves's order."
"But I'm a Commander," the capricious Togruta wrinkled her nose. "I outrank him!"
"The one who outranks is the one," I remarked instructively, "who can boast experience. And I'll bet my hand — you've never been in battle before."
"But...!" the girl began to object, but I had already shifted my attention to Aeon standing nearby.
"Captain, jump into the system on my signal. Not a second sooner."
"But if you're delayed, Admiral Yularen will be under heavy fire," the Rhino's commander reminded me.
"Then we'll hurry," I shrugged. Essentially, the fate of Yularen and his ships concerned me the least. I had to think about my own legion, not about Kenobi and Skywalker's ships.
"General," Ahsoka said, her eyes almost pleading. "Take me..."
"Don't take your eyes off the kid, Captain," I asked. The Acclamator's commander just smiled.
"Well then, aboard, gentlemen," I waved to the 'Alphas.'
The official version was that I, the commandos, and R3 would use information I had received from my spies in the CIS and sneak aboard one of the CIS reinforcement ships. The very ones that were bringing troops to the planet and taking out the remaining valuables.
There, we would cause a diversion, dock with one of the Munificents, capture it, and use it to attack the other ships. This would create chaos in the droid ranks and allow us to overcome the crippled CIS forces. And my loyal saboteurs would plant baradium bombs aboard the enemy ships, further disorienting the Confederates.
Yularen, Kreeves, Ahsoka, and even the 'Alphas,' after hearing the plan, thought I was insane. Well, it was understandable if I had taken Helldivers or 'Heavies' with me. At least a company. But alone, with three clones and a droid...
No one really argued. For good measure, I said that certain loyalist forces on site would help us.
"Sir." We had barely dropped out of hyperspace when Alpha touched my shoulder. "There's nothing here."
And indeed there wasn't. We hung in the void of space, our nearest neighbors nothing but stars. Galactic emptiness.
"That's just how it seems to you, Alpha." I cut the shuttle's power, then activated the comlink.
"Shea Vizla, can you see us?"
"Clearly," the Mandalorian snorted. "Dropping cloak. Docking."
I didn't want to expose the Fury in front of the clones, but I saw no other way to break the blockade. We transferred to the Sith interceptor and departed for the Christoph system.
* * *
"And what will you do with them after they tell everyone about your stealth ship?" Valkorion asked with a smirk.
The Ghost had made himself known shortly before we reached the rendezvous point. As usual — no warning, he just materialized.
"Do you think I can't handle three clones?" I asked. "I thought you believed in me."
The Ghost swept his gaze across the frozen soldiers in their snow-white armor, a grim smile on his face.
"An army of living servants..." He savored the words, as if tasting them. "One order, and the Jedi become outlaws. Have you figured out what the trigger will be for them?"
"Not yet," I admitted. "The inhibitor chips are there, but obedience to Contingency Orders is hard-coded into their training program as well."
"Well, then," the Sith concluded. "Quite foresighted of him. Does that make the clones useless to us?"
"I don't think so," I noted. "They're still a reliable weapon against the CIS."
"Perhaps," Valkorion mused for a moment. "But don't underestimate them, and don't let them get too close."
"That's why I'm bringing Shea Vizla, Vette, and Atroxa into the open," I explained. "From now on, my Hands will protect me."
"You still haven't spoken the code phrase of submission," the ghost reminded me. "The hope that they'll become loyal to you on their own is negligible. Subjugate them." The last phrase was spoken almost like an order.
That started to irritate me.
"Master," I said as tactfully as I could. "You entrusted me with carrying out your Plan. Trust me in this as well. Otherwise, what kind of galactic ruler am I if I have no will of my own?"
Valkorion looked me over from head to toe, as if a stranger had appeared before him. Then he smiled slightly.
"And here I was wondering when you'd develop some self-respect," he said with sarcasm. "The boy's starting to outgrow his childish britches." The ghost's short laugh nearly infuriated me. But seeing his face return to its usual, emotionless state, I forced myself to suppress the rising flames. "Don't forget, they are merely your servants, apprentice."
"I remember, Master," I said with a short bow.
"Atroxa wouldn't have become the garrison commander on Korriban," Valkorion noted, "if she didn't possess the qualities inherent to the Sith. Remember that, the next time you let her sleep in your bed."
"Are you suggesting she might kill me?" I asked.
"Any of them would gladly finish you off," Valkorion laughed. "I tortured each of them a thousand times. Broke them, rebuilt them, and broke them again. I forged them into loyal servants, and they fear me. But you... They would tear you to pieces the moment they got the chance, and I won't be able to protect you," the ghost warned. "You are my legacy. Don't let yourself die pointlessly again."
After those words, the ghost dissolved, and the world resumed its usual motion.
* * *
There were no Baradium bombs.
There were no Loyalists.
There was only me, three Alpha commandos, Vette, Shea Vizla, R3, and Atroxa.
After dropping me and the six-man landing party off, Atroxa, following my orders, took an advantageous position near the central section of the Lucrehulk-class ship. Staying hidden from detection, the Sith held her ship in the space between the Lucrehulk's outer rim and its central, spherical core.
As soon as the Acclamator arrived, the Lethan woman launched a proton torpedo into the ship's heart. Since proton torpedoes ignore deflector shields, three of the four CIS frigates, struck by Atroxa from the side opposite the observers on the Rhino, vanished in the wake of torpedo attacks alongside the Trade Federation vessel.
My squad moved out immediately after the Lucrehulk was destroyed. After docking in one of the airlocks, we waited patiently until the commander reported readiness and directed the ship toward its allies. Hooking the astromech up to the communications system and blocking external transmissions, we advanced from the ship's midsection toward the bridge, spraying fire and cutting through anything that wasn't bone and flesh with our lightsabers.
The frigate carried up to 150,000 assault droids on board. Fortunately for us, Vette managed to intercept the control signal from the bridge and prevent the activation of the droid reserves.
"Will it always be this easy?" Alpha asked me as he burned through the last droid on the bridge. "We took out over a hundred and captured the ship."
Before I could intervene, someone else beat me to it.
"There's still another hundred of them out there somewhere," the Mandalorian snapped. "Don't go soft on me, kid, we still have to fight our way back."
"Enough bickering without orders," I cut off the brewing quarrel.
The three clones, their armor blackened from the hot push to the bridge, were glaring rather unkindly at the tall, deadly woman from their progenitor's homeworld. Shea, with feigned calm, was reloading her blasters and prepping thermal detonators.
"Set a course for the Separatist flagship," I ordered Vette, who was acting as pilot.
"Whatever you say, commander," the Twi'lek girl replied with simple good nature, her fingers fluttering over the control panel.
"Sir," Balda pointed at the five Separatist ships. "Maybe we should blow them up with 'Baradium bombs' too?"
"All out," I said regretfully. "The ship only carries four."
"So maybe we should have taken more of these ships?" Alpha asked as he approached. "They'd be useful to the Republic."
"I'm afraid," I said, "this isn't a Republic ship."
"We should bring them over to our side," Alpha insisted. "Stealth ships are a serious weapon."
An incoming call from Yularen saved me from having to explain myself. Talking to the admiral for the second time during this battle, I suddenly noticed that a swarm of Separatist fighters, drifting near the surviving five ships, had abruptly come to life and was rushing at us.
Cursing, I ordered the shields raised.
"We've been spotted!" I stated the obvious. "Get the ship ready for acceleration. Guns on automatic fire. Time to get out of here."
Sitting in the escape pod, watching the Munificent-class frigate we'd captured break apart under the endless attacks of droid fighters and the Separatist fleet, I couldn't help but regret that the final round of the operation had failed.
The prize hadn't been able to ram the enemy commander's vessel like a fireship. The minor damage the reprogrammed guns of the captured ship had inflicted on the Separatist vessels before its destruction was nothing compared to what the Munificent-class could have done if it had exploded in the center of the enemy formation.
But what could I do? The main thing was, we'd done our job.
The Venators had given the enemy fleet a serious beating — that was obvious even to the naked eye. Most of the enemy ships bore numerous scorch marks and breaches, and their artillery was damaged. Of course, Yularen's ships had taken a beating too, no doubt about it — a serious one. They didn't look much better either. Surrounded by gunships, they were taking Kenobi's and Skywalker's forces aboard, while my Acclamator, covered by a pair of its larger brothers, was deploying fresh troops.
"Are we going to have to fight for this?" Shea Vizla asked with a sour expression, nodding at the buildings of Crystal City, Christophsis's capital, riddled with shrapnel and plasma burns.
"Exactly," I confirmed. The mild turbulence during atmospheric entry caused some shaking inside the capsule where I, my Hands, and R3 were. The Alphas were escaping on another vessel.
"I've seen worse places," Vette admitted good-naturedly.
"My Lord," Atroxa said. "Are you alright?"
"Everyone's alive," I confirmed. "Stay in orbit for now. If you see the Separatists cooking something up, report immediately."
"As you command, My Lord," the Lethan woman said obsequiously and disconnected.
"I've never heard her sound so ingratiating before," Vette suddenly remarked. "Even with Valkorion she held herself more independently. And she never respected Malgus at all..."
"The Lethan woman's never been fucked by Malgus or the ghost," the Mandalorian snorted. I groaned and covered my face with my hand. "The red-skinned one bent over for whoever gives the orders. That's so Twi'lek of her..."
"I don't get it?" Vette said, clear offense in her voice. "So you think we're all as available as Atroxa? No, no, no, she just hasn't had anyone since Korriban..."
For the first time in my life, I wished I were deaf.
* * *
"Looks like reinforcements have arrived," Obi-Wan said, pointing at the clone units streaming down the massive ramp of the landed Acclamator.
"Probably," Anakin spread his hands. "Our ships are back."
"And that's ammunition and replacements," Obi-Wan noted. "After that attack by saboteur droids, there wasn't much left in the warehouses..."
Kenobi noticed his former apprentice's grimace. Anakin blamed himself for the disastrous consequences of the Separatist saboteur droid raid during their first week on the planet. The result had been damage to most of the mechanized equipment and the destruction of the ammunition depot.
"Anakin." Kenobi reached out through the Force to Skywalker, but suddenly noticed a young Togruta girl standing in front of them in funny white leggings.
"Miss?" he asked in surprise. "Who are you?"
"I'm Ahsoka Tano," the girl introduced herself. "Master Yoda sent me to tell you that your help is needed in investigating an incident on Naboo's moon..."
* * *
For a full day, the Separatist and Republic ships maintained the status quo. The Separatists lacked the strength to dislodge the Jedi ships from their positions. Yularen's ships were in a similar state. Busy loading Kenobi's and Skywalker's forces, they could hardly put up a serious fight against the numerically superior Separatists. No one was eager to test that. The fighting was limited to skirmishes between the mosquito fleet.
Despite a couple of scrapes, I made it from the escape pod's landing site to the Republic base with my companions and the three clones in a few hours.
By then, Skywalker had already processed the news about the gas attack on the Gungans. And he'd accepted becoming Tano's mentor. Which added a certain comic touch — a tall man accompanied by a skinny girl barely a meter and a half tall.
"I see you made it, Knight Dougan," Kenobi said, shaking my hand. "Glad you're safe."
"Likewise." I looked around. The base, set up in a complex of former government buildings, was heavily fortified with a double defensive perimeter and numerous bunkers. A graveyard of once-operational vehicles took up a significant portion of the space allocated for the 'vehicle pool.' The Jedi hadn't bothered to clear the wreckage. "Thanks for sending a gunship to meet us..."
"Gunship?" Kenobi looked surprised. "But we didn't send anything..."
"Yes, that's what I thought, my dear friend, that's what I thought." Cursing the Jedi under my breath, I trudged toward the room set aside as headquarters. Time to take command...
* * *
Watching the last gunships carry the remnants of the former armed contingent skyward, I couldn't help but feel abandoned.
In effect, my forces — modest, to put it mildly — were left as the sole defenders on the planet. Against the enemy's million and a half droids — according to Skywalker's and Kenobi's intelligence — my thousand-odd soldiers were practically green recruits.
A war council was in order, including all three of my Hands. There was no point keeping Atroxa in orbit anymore — the enemy had pulled in over twenty ships. The Fury had found safe shelter in the government hangar, in the far section of the magistracy we occupied.
Christophsis was securely blockaded by the enemy. Unless the Republic committed significant forces, we were all in for a rough time. And I seriously doubted the Republic would have enough strength for a relief force anytime soon.
Alpha, Balda, and Berserker, as well as Phob, Day, Fan — the commanders of the first three regiments — Rudi, the commander of the combined fourth regiment, and Mimo, the clone commander of the engineer regiment, were naturally also present at the council.
As I've said, the main Republic base on the planet was the fortified government quarter. The magistracy, thanks to its previous owners, was a massive, seven-story building with thick walls and ceilings. The Jedi had set up the operations headquarters, communications hub, barracks, infirmary, and mess hall there. By surrounding the building with massive walls and observation towers along the perimeter, Skywalker and Kenobi had managed to secure a safe perimeter inside the base, where the arsenal, heavy equipment parking, and ammunition depot were located... most of which was already in ruins — a little over a week ago, a Separatist saboteur droid attack had knocked out most of the heavy equipment.
"We're going to get crushed," Shea Vizla said ominously. "Even if these guys," she jerked her head toward the nearest clone, "were forged from the greatest Mandalorian himself — we can't handle an army a hundred times our size."
"But we have heavy guns!" Vette protested. "Walkers and..."
"The guns won't hold the whole army," Alpha backed Shea up. "Once they pile on us from all sides, the defense will pop like a soap bubble."
"Neither the guns, nor the walkers, nor the heavy weapons will save us," Berserker supported his brother.
"We shouldn't have let General Skywalker's and Kenobi's forces go," Balda lamented. "We'd have twice the numbers."
"Enough arguing," I barked at the commandos. "Kenobi's, Skywalker's, and the other Jedi's troops are needed elsewhere. That's a command order. Besides, most of them are wounded. We've already stripped them of their remaining equipment. Mimo," I addressed the chief legion engineer. "How much of their stuff do we have left?"
The clone glanced at the datapad.
"Two dozen AT-TE walkers in various states of damage. We managed to get two combat-ready. Another three or four can be repaired and will enter service. The rest is spare parts and scrap."
"Strip the guns and armor off them," I ordered. "We'll use whatever we have for defense."
"Basically, we need to rebuild the defense from scratch," Rudi spoke up. Bald-headed, with a rancor tattoo on his scalp, he came from an assault battalion. He tended to keep his distance from the others. "Sitting behind fortress walls, relying on walls, walkers, and self-propelled guns — that won't work for us."
"Which is why," I concluded, "you're all here — to discuss our defense strategy."
"Sir," Fan spoke up. "We were taught that Jedi would plan the war and..."
I sighed heavily.
"Gentlemen," I said, sweeping my gaze over everyone present and stopping at the third regiment's commander. "Much as I'd like to, I wasn't trained to command an army. The Jedi haven't led wars in a long time, so I'm asking you to help me. Criticize my ideas and plans, because that's how we'll build the best possible battle plan, one that minimizes our losses."
Silence was my answer. The clones exchanged glances. The general had essentially admitted his incompetence. Unheard of. I could imagine what was going through their heads. Something like 'looks like they're recruiting generals from ads now.'
"Alright, kids," Shea said patronizingly. "You can whisper about it in the barracks later."
The Mandalorian woman dominantly brought up a map of the government quarter on the holoprojector.
"By concentrating all our forces within a single base," the girl began, "we're taking a huge risk of losing everything in one successful assault or airstrike. Here's what I propose we do..."
* * *
Watching the Confederacy army advance — in neat, orderly boxes — I couldn't help but note that someone was about to get a serious bruising.
"'Heavies' in position," Balda's voice came over the comlink. He was leading that wonderful unit.
"Assault troops ready," came Berserker with his subordinates.
"Ten more minutes," I checked the chronometer. "And we start."
The advance of a large detachment — at least ten thousand B-1s alone, supported by a couple dozen AAT tanks — was reported by four observation squads simultaneously.
According to Shea's plan, our forces drove the CIS out of the capital with one massive strike. In three days of non-stop fighting, the droids lost virtually all their strength in Crystal City, holding onto only one quarter near the city's southern entrance. Looking at the pre-war map of the territories the enemy had captured, marked up with our intelligence notes, I noted with an inner smile that the Separatists had set up their headquarters in the main library of Christophsis. Just like in the cartoon.
The engineer battalions had crawled over every house, every platform in the city, mining the approaches to key defensive points.
Every skyscraper had become a stronghold for snipers or squads of 'heavies,' armed with everything needed to repel an attack from enemy heavy equipment on the ground or in the air. Several droid squadrons that had come in to bomb the city had already tested the quality of our defenses. They were still burning out on the outskirts.
The Separatist commander's next attempt was a mass landing right on the outskirts of the city. The 36 SPHA units, which formed the core of both our heavy anti-air and defensive artillery, buried fifty C-9979 landing craft with their precious cargo on the city's outskirts.
Both of those operations cost us a thousand clones.
After that, the Separatist ground command seemed to stall. Oh, we could see them gathering strength on their bridgehead. We couldn't dislodge them — the bridgehead and the city were separated by several hundred meters of empty highway, equally deadly for any advance by either side. So the enemy was massing for an attack. And we were forced to watch.
But beneath the apparent calm lay a plan. And, I'm not afraid to sound proud, I thought up most of it.
We — myself and the regimental commanders — understood that once the enemy commander had gathered enough strength to break through across the highway, our forces would be in a tight spot. Which is why most of the highway had long since been mined and was ready for remote detonation. And in the buildings nearest the highway, and indeed throughout the city, clones with anti-personnel laser cannons stripped from disabled walkers were firmly dug in, turning the capital into a den of heavy-caliber crossfire.
The Separatists launched their third attack on Crystal City a month after our arrival. Their movements were detected in time, giving us time to prepare our units and bring up reserves.
The plan was to let the enemy bring their tanks onto the highway, then simultaneously disable them with remote mine detonation and rain fire on the Separatist infantry from our AV-7 cannons and the ambushed assault troops and 'heavies.' That was my idea, and interestingly, its 'goodness' was acknowledged not only by my battle-hardened Hands, veterans of Galactic wars, but also by Fett's descendants.
Fan's third regiment, supported by a dozen AT-TE walkers, held the droids back from breaking through into the city center. Positioned in the ruins left by bombardments and fighting, they formed a semicircle of five lines surrounding the street the enemy infantry would have to advance along. Being on the surface, unlike other units, they would have to bear the brunt of the enemy infantry assault.
"The enemy forward elements are already engaging Fan's first line," Alpha informed me.
I, my faithful adjutant Alpha, Vette, and Atroxa watched the invasion from the roof of one of the skyscrapers that had been converted into an observation post. The building, unremarkable in height, gave a clear view of the attackers — conveniently located right in their path, on the second defensive line of the third regiment.
"Balda, what's the status on the vehicles?" I asked the commando.
"They're firing on the nearest buildings," the clone reported. "Only a few units are on the highway. The infantry has broken away from the tanks and is pushing through the first line of defense."
"Shit," I swore. Blowing the highway for a handful of AATs was a thankless task. Our guns couldn't reach the tank positions, let alone the droid bridgehead. And wasting such a beautiful thing as a minefield on infantry was a pity...
"Sir," Alpha snapped me out of my thoughts. "We need to blow it — otherwise Fan and his men will take heavy losses. It's five droids for every one of our brothers..."
Mimo, who bore the responsibility for detonating the highway, was right there. Seeing my nod, the engineer activated the detonator.
Have you ever seen about ten thousand deadly, if brainless, droids fly into the air? Along with hundreds of tons of road surface and explosives, the infantry detachment was instantly turned into road debris, incapable of active action. Three hundred B-1s, suddenly finding themselves surrounded and cut off from their own, were mowed down by crossfire in the blink of an eye.
"Excellent victory," the silent Atroxa remarked. Dressed in a suit with armor elements, the Lethan woman, like Vette and Shea, was passing herself off as a mercenary, keeping her lightsaber hidden from prying eyes.
"Sir, I'm pulling the squads back from the perimeter buildings," Balda reported.
"The tanks are destroying the buildings one by one," Berserker echoed him. "We need to withdraw. I've already lost three groups."
"Pull the men back to the backup positions," I ordered. Raising binoculars to my eyes, I saw in detail how a dozen AATs, positioned in three lines, were using concentrated fire to turn the skyscrapers where our observation squads were holed up into ruins.
"Smart move on their part," Alpha cursed. "They identified our observation posts and firing points and instantly collapsed our defense in this sector down to the second line." "Sir," he addressed me. "Permission to hit the tanks with assault troops?"
"Not worth it," Vette pointed at the enemy tanks. "Look."
After collapsing several of the nearest buildings, the enemy tanks moved forward, intending to get within effective range of the second line of defense. Judging by the figures of soldiers sliding down cables into the buildings of the third line, they too had noticed the enemy's unsubtle interest in Crystal City's architecture.
But it wasn't to be.
Like the wrath of gods, the energy charges of the AV-7s slammed into the Separatists' armored war machines, turning them into useless, smoking hulls of scrap metal. Landing with precision, they swept the enemy armor off the remains of the roadway.
"You're welcome," Shea's voice sounded in my ear. A few seconds later, I saw a figure in blue-green armor slip out of a window of one of the miraculously surviving buildings on the first line of defense. Leaving a barely visible thruster trail behind, 'Mandalore the Avenger' headed for the rear. Acting as a spotter for the heavy guns, she'd helped us conserve ammunition for the AV-7s, of which we had barely a hundred rounds per barrel left.
The battle was over. The third battle for Crystal City was ours.
"Alpha," I called out to my adjutant. "Take Balda and Berserker with you, take a walk along the highway tonight." I pointed at the place where the enemy infantry had been annihilated. "Leave some surprises and alarms there."
"Yes, General." The clone immediately opened a channel to his commando brothers.
* * *
With the onset of night, life in Crystal City took on a new rhythm.
Leaving sentries and patrols at their positions, the main body of the legion headed for the barracks.
Those too had to be split up. The first and third regiments guarded the Northern and Southern arteries — the main routes into the city, along which enemy armor could advance. The second essentially performed a security function, controlling the eastern and western parts of the city. Each had its own mobile base in the rear of its own positions, equipped and maintained by a battalion of combat engineers attached to each regiment. After all, trudging halfway across the city to the barracks after a hard day was no fun.
So most of the barracks, like many of the rooms in the magistracy, remained unused. The wounded rested here — the infirmary and operating room had to stay here; no point dragging them to the front. The fourth regiment was quartered at the main base, providing its security and defense. The soldiers of the fourth engineer battalion also found shelter here, bearing the burden of piloting assault troops, repairing captured and our own damaged weaponry. They were also, truth be told, scavenging from the wrecked CIS landing craft.
An assault shuttle delivered me and both Twi'leks to the base. I gestured for Vette and Atroxa to follow me, and the three of us trudged to the office of one of the planet's former officials, where I'd set up my quarters. I needed to review the day's reports, get a few hours of anxious sleep, and wake up expecting another surprise from the droids.
The office was spacious, I had to admit. The oval main room contained two massive leather sofas facing each other on either side of the entrance. To the left, there was a passage to what had once been a bedroom and kitchen area, now just rubble after the bombardment. To the right — surprisingly — was a still-functioning refresher with a shower and a small jacuzzi-like pool. Across from the entrance stood a massive semicircular console table, on which the correspondence between the Christophsis government and the CIS regarding the planet's accession to the latter was still preserved. I had copied it into my datapad long ago. Once we made contact with the Republic, I'd pass it up the chain. Let them worry about catching those bastards.
I had more important things to do — find a way to hold out longer.
The fact that CIS ships didn't flatten us with total orbital bombardment wasn't the enemy's nobility. The planetary government simply hadn't managed to evacuate all the accumulated treasure — we'd found over a dozen vaults filled with precious metals in the city, worth about a hundred million credits. You'll say that's peanuts compared to the CIS budget? I agree. But it wasn't the CIS that had its eye on the wealth — it was specifically the commander of the ground forces.
Back to today's battle.
Compared to previous attacks, this one at least had the appearance of strategic thought. The droids consciously minimized their losses in heavy equipment, forcing us to trade against the infamous B-1s. From a purely economic standpoint — a brilliant choice. Comparing the cost of a B-1 and an AAT, you understand why the CIS preferred to bury us in droids that consumed so many already-limited resources rather than tanks.
"Fob shot down a couple of AAT tanks today," Vette concluded, having reviewed the first battalion's reports. "No losses on our side, but we had to abandon two buildings — the enemy damaged them badly."
"Dei has a similar situation," Atroxa noted. "Except in the eastern sector, Octuptarra droids were operating. Jet clones," that was the legion's name for the battalion of clones with jetpacks — Shea's favorites. "They took out five of them with grenade launchers. Lost three."
I was reading the third and fourth regiment's reports myself. Two hundred clones — gone like a bantha licked them clean.
"So there goes half the regiment," I said, sitting in a massive armchair-sofa upholstered in soft leather. Like its brother sofas from the same set, it easily transformed into a comfortable bed, which I shamelessly used. "And that's just one month of fighting."
Both Twi'leks stared at me, waiting for me to continue. But I stayed silent. Turning my back to the Twi'leks sitting across from each other on the sofas, I stared into the planet's nearly cloudless atmosphere.
"My Lord," the Lethan rose and approached me. "What are you thinking about?"
"Even though I know they — the clones — are just tools," I said, "I can't get used to their deaths. It reflects in the Force... Well, you know."
The Lady Sith smirked, placing her thin but muscular fingers on my temples, and began making circular motions. I felt thin, relaxing waves of the Force seep into my body.
"Let these deaths nourish you, my Lord," she whispered. "Savor the pain of others, their fear, their terror. Absorb them into yourself... Yes, Master," the Lethan praised me, feeling how I, as if hypnotized by her words, unconsciously spread my Force nets, absorbing the remnants of bitterness, disappointment, and the sense of death that reigned in the city. "Continue..."
Pulling the entire arsenal of negative emotions into myself, I felt the Dark Side stoke the smoldering flame of rage within me. Molten metal flowed through my veins, saturating my body with power and seething energy. My muscles warmed up, turning into elastic cords... every single one.
"Stop," I felt the Lethan's hand slide across my torso, undoing the fasteners. "I don't want to."
Stunned by the sharpness of my response, Atroxa watched as Valkorion's apprentice abruptly stood up from the chair, breaking the forming connection.
"You're dismissed," Dougan muttered, heading for the refresher.
Watching the door close behind the Lord, Atroxa looked bewilderedly at the silent Vette.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" the Lady Sith frowned, returning to her comrade, who had also risen from the sofa, intending to leave.
"What, don't like being refused?" the blue-skinned Twi'lek giggled. Seeing the Lethan's instantly stern gaze, the girl patted her thigh, where a blaster pistol sat in its holster. Touching it, she seemed to draw confidence from it. "Maybe you're not his type anymore?"
"And why would that be?" the Sith licked her lips with a quick, long tongue, casually running her hands over her hips.
"Maybe he wants something new," Vette shrugged, hearing the shower turn on behind the wall. She shifted her gaze to the lustful look the leader of the Sith armies was sending in the same direction. ."..or someone."
The Lady Sith looked at her interlocutor with an interested gaze. In her molten-gold eyes, Vette saw sparks of passion and lust.
"Well, if you think so..." Darth Atroxa said with clear intentions, running her hand along the Twi'lek's soft cheek...