Confident that no one had seen her, Ahsoka approached the edge of a five-story building that vaguely resembled a truncated pyramid. Pressing herself against the wall so the darkness would hide her from prying eyes, she looked around.
The mercenaries' command bunker in this part of the city was the key to all enemy forces in the settlement the 501st Legion was currently fighting for. By capturing it and the intelligence on the enemy, Tano would make it easier for her troops to take the settlement. But a much bigger problem for the soldiers was the reflective field that surrounded the entire central part of the city and hindered their advance. Rex had assured her that his men would hold the enemy for as long as she needed to complete the sabotage. She trusted the clone — not for nothing had they been through so much together. And even if it felt like a different life — back when she was with Skywalker, in her own legion, the girl was confident. Yes, not every clone, after having their inhibitor chips removed, spoke well of her — but she understood that she still had to earn these guys' respect through action. Not on the principle of "I'm a Jedi, love me, praise me."
Tracking with her eyes that a patrol of a couple of mercenaries had disappeared around a corner, deeper into the nearby ruins, the Togruta looked up.
Okay, the situation is getting worse.
On the middle, third floor of the bunker, a balcony ran around the perimeter of the structure, with stationary heavy blaster repeater emplacements at the corners. And right now, several sentries were walking on it — thank the Force — organics.
The presence of enemy soldiers was a certain inconvenience — two sentries, and only on this side. That was a minus. But as a Force-sensitive, she could use a Mind Trick to divert attention from herself. That was a plus.
And judging by the fact that they hadn't noticed her slipping through the ruins right up to the bunker, the enemy wasn't the most attentive. So they could be taken out quietly...
The Force warned her of the appearance of four more life signs — right where she had passed not long ago. The girl sharpened her senses with the Force, distinguishing four figures in matte-gray armor in the darkness. Clones. And judging by everything, especially their gear — commandos.
After the Special Operations Brigade from Coruscant had successfully transferred all commandos to the Gent System Army, each legion had received one such squad — as professional scouts and saboteurs. The 501st had gotten Delta Squad — hardened professionals, whose fame had long since spread throughout the Grand Army of the Republic.
The girl frowned. Delta was supposed to be at the headquarters location right now. What were they doing here?
Waiting until the searchlights mounted on the upper level of the bunker focused on another area, the four clones, crouching low, were instantly beside the Togruta.
"Commander," the squad leader, Boss, greeted her quietly.
"What the hell are you doing here, Sergeant?" Ahsoka hissed, peering into the clone's faceplate.
"And we're glad to see you too," Boss remarked ironically. "The Grand Moff countermanded your previous order and ordered us to bring you to headquarters."
"Dougan is already here?" the girl was surprised.
"Exactly," the clone reported. "Of course, this is just my assumption, but he's extremely displeased that our legion nearly got surrounded."
"Actually," Sev said bluntly, "the Grand Moff said he'd take a belt and spank you so hard you won't be able to sit properly for a week."
"Looks like I'm in for a dressing down," Ahsoka sighed. Though even that phrase could be interpreted two ways. And you couldn't tell which was worse — the text or the subtext. Though, most likely, the latter.
"Don't worry, Commander Tano," another squad member, Fixer, said reassuringly. "The punishment probably won't be severe."
"I wouldn't count on it," the Togruta grinned. "But since you're here, you'll help me blow up the bunker."
"I'm sorry, Commander," Boss shook his head, "the orders were different."
The girl was taken aback for a moment. Leave now? When the objective was literally fifty meters away? Oh, no!
"We'll return to the position," she promised. "But first, we'll infiltrate the bunker, kill the mercenary commander, download everything we can from their network, and blow up the reflective screen generator. And then — we'll follow the Grand Moff's orders."
"But, Commander," Boss began.
"What's the matter, Sergeant?" Ahsoka grinned, remembering the incredible sense of superiority and condescending attitude toward other clones and even Jedi that the fighters of this commando squad were famous for. "Is the mission too difficult for you and your men?"
"Negative, Commander," Boss shook his head. "Just a regular Tuesday. Alright, 'Deltas,' prepare for the assault."
Seeing the excitement among the four commandos, Tano suppressed a sad smile. Playing on these commandos' egos was like taking candy from a youngling. Tasty, but it left an unpleasant little feeling.
Ahsoka silently unclipped her lightsaber from her belt, gripping it in her familiar reverse grip, allowing the Balance within her to slip toward the dark side. The girl already knew the temperament of the Dark Side of the Force well enough. And yet, despite her youth, she knew how to keep her anger and rage under control. Lady Grell had taught her to do it without harming her own health or mind. And even if, ideally, adepts of the Unified Force were supposed to draw power from both sides of the Force, the girl had never heard of anyone who could do that. It was much easier to maintain the inner peace of the Light Side, resorting to the Dark only when necessary. And when the urge for rage subsided, to restore peace using Jedi techniques.
Right now, though, she needed to use aggression, which meant channeling the Dark Side. She slipped into it easily, crouching, then leaping straight up, letting the Force carry her. She noted the grappling hooks of the clones' ascension mechanisms soaring into the air beside her, and the soldiers themselves rising, only a couple of seconds behind Ahsoka.
The girl cleared the edge of the roof right in front of a very surprised Twi'lek guard and, without hesitation, directed her lightsaber toward the enemy's chest, pressing the activation button briefly to release a blade of pure energy, creating an almost invisible hole in the area of the enemy's heart. He died quietly.
The other guard, standing with his back to the Togruta, noticed something wrong — he must have heard the sound of the Jedi weapon activating — and began to turn. Ahsoka used the Force with a characteristic gesture and said confidently:
"You saw nothing."
The Weequay mercenary wasn't known for the strength of his mind, so, looking at the girl with a glassy stare, he began to repeat:
"I saw noth—"
A wheeze and gurgling in his throat cut him off. Grabbing his neck with both hands, the Weequay fell to his knees, then froze face-down on the floor. Ahsoka shot a glance at Boss, who, moving silently across the platform, approached the corpse, deftly pulling a throwing knife from its throat. Meeting the commander's eyes, he calmly wiped the alien's blood on the corpse's clothing and returned the blade to his belt.
"Something wrong, Commander?" the clone inquired innocently.
"He wasn't paying attention to us anymore, actually," Ahsoka said. "There was no need to kill him."
"That sentry was standing right next to a heavy blaster repeater," the sergeant nodded toward the aforementioned instrument of death. "I don't know about you, but I prefer to retreat when Separatist bastards aren't shooting me in the back."
Tano opened her mouth to object, but... "He's actually right," it dawned on the girl. After their sabotage, such chaos would erupt that the more enemies were killed now, the easier it would be to escape.
The Togruta just nodded in approval of the commandos' actions. "Looks like the Jedi dogmas are still fighting within me against the new teachings," a thought flashed through her pretty head. And how many Jedi had their regret and pity for a wounded enemy cost them their lives?
The girl took a deep breath, refocusing on the Balance. It was a great temptation for her to keep channeling the Dark Side, to revel in its ease and accessibility... It was seductive, but dangerous. Nadia Grell had warned that the Emperor would not tolerate apostates in the ranks of the Imperial Knights. Anyone who had known both sides of the Force but leaned toward one of them was dangerous. Too dangerous to leave alive.
Finding the door panel leading inside the bunker wasn't difficult.
Boss and Sev slipped past her first; Fixer and Scorch moved behind her. The clones were a picture of calm and determination. Sometimes the girl was shaken by the realization that these guys treated war and death with the same ease as other sentients treated peaceful work in some diner. Nothing personal...
Moving carefully through the room, the commandos split up. Fixer and Scorch headed for the upper floors, while the commander and the other two clones went to the lower ones. While one part would mine the reflective screen generator upstairs, the second would deal with the enemy commander and the data.
Boss came across a staircase leading to the lower part of the building. The mercenaries chatting at their post didn't even have time to squeak — the squad leader's throwing knives proved quite accurate and deadly. Dragging the bodies into the nearest maintenance closet, the squad continued on their way. Traces of a hasty evacuation were everywhere — it seemed the enemy hadn't even hoped to hold this position. Two floors down, on either side of the stairwell, were two large rooms, their doors left wide open in the rush of the redeployment. At first glance, they seemed to have been used as barracks for the troops: bunks were overturned, the floor littered with useless junk. Counting the sleeping spaces, Ahsoka realized her initial conclusion was wrong — there were at most a couple of dozen beds here. More likely, officers had been quartered here. Sev, following the commander's silent order, swept one room, Boss the other.
"They cleaned it out well," the clone commander expressed the general opinion. "Nothing useful."
"They left in a hurry, obviously," Sev agreed.
"Maybe we'll find something useful on the lower level," Ahsoka suggested. The clones shrugged. It didn't really matter to them — the central computer was still on the main level, if not underground. There would definitely be something worth taking there.
A standard Separatist command bunker had five above-ground levels and one or two below the surface. However, the latter usually housed storage rooms, where only cargo and customs declarations were of any interest.
Finally, they reached the main level. Ahsoka, sharpening her senses, noted that, contrary to her expectations, there were only two sentients in the spacious bunker room — a rather pretty Twi'lek girl with blue-tinged skin, her head and lekku covered in black tattoos. However, Ahsoka couldn't decipher the meaning contained in the unknown script and patterns.
The second sentient was standing with his back to her. But from the tips of two massive horns, the girl figured out it was a Devaronian. Loaded with weapons, he caused some concern. Clearly, the mercenary wasn't armed to the teeth for nothing — he surely knew how to use all those knives, blasters, rifles, and grenades he was festooned with like... The girl couldn't find a suitable analogy. Maybe if her childhood had been spent not in the Temple in front of computer monitors in the Archives, but in a proper society and family, she'd have a broader outlook. But, as they say — you can't have what you aren't given.
And around this pair, half a dozen B-1s scurried about, in their already proverbial manner, stupidly exchanging monosyllabic phrases, acting as loaders, carrying out containers sealed so tightly that their contents couldn't be seen.
"I don't like that Twi'lek," Boss whispered. "I don't see any weapons on her, but she gives me the creeps."
"Yeah," Ahsoka agreed. "Some... strange feeling."
"She's definitely the commander," Sev stated decisively. "She's relaxed, arrogant. And that horned one seems to be her subordinate. Look how he listens to her..."
"We'll figure it out later," Boss promised, glancing at his wrist computer. "Maybe we can listen in on what they're talking about? Fixer and Scorch are already mining the reactor..."
Ahsoka, calculating that about twenty meters of open space separated her from the enemies, just shook her head. Even with the Force, she couldn't amplify her hearing enough to eavesdrop on aliens talking barely above a whisper — it was that quiet. Especially since the droids kept dropping things on the floor.
Boss, handing the girl a small earpiece, slightly extended a small antenna built into his left vambrace from around the corner. "Directional microphone!" Ahsoka realized, trying to figure out where she could put an earpiece clearly designed for human, or near-human, auditory organs. Finally, the girl decided to just hold the device close to her montrals.
."..another three hours," came the Devaronian's voice. "And we'll clear this outpost."
"Get a move on," the Twi'lek said imperiously. "We can't hold the city anyway, but we'll have to leave a screen of droids — that might at least delay the Republic forces while we transfer troops to defend the capital. Count Dooku will be very displeased if we just hand the planet over to the Republic. We need to hold out until reinforcements arrive... We're not alone!
An instant before the Twi'lek spoke the last phrase, Ahsoka felt flickers of the Dark Side. But this time, the source of the rage was not the Togruta.
The Twi'lek used the Force to throw the Devaronian aside as if he were a feather, and lunged toward the hidden Republic soldiers.
"The data!" Ahsoka shouted to the clones, stepping out of cover. Boss understood her immediately. Both clones, instantly using their weapons, cleared the room of droids and rushed toward the deactivated computing device, prepared for transport. Downloading the information definitely wouldn't work — there was no time to reconnect the machine to the network. But removing the data disks... They needed to buy time!
The Togruta didn't have time to be surprised that she was facing another of Dooku's dark servants, but this one trained in Force Hiding.
A crimson energy lightning flashed, which she intercepted with her two white blades.
"A Jedi," the Twi'lek said in a clearly pleased tone, her weapon locked effectively with Ahsoka's blades. "So small, and already a future corpse."
"Who even are you?" Tano allowed the enemy's physical strength to slightly push through her defense, then, with a springy motion, threw the Twi'lek's weapon back, forcing her to retreat. Mechanically, the girl noted that the hilt of the Separatist accomplice's blade was far too long for a simple sword. Unless...
With a characteristic hiss, a second crimson blade slid out from the back of the hilt.
"Sha'ala Donita," the Twi'lek replied with a mocking smirk. "Protégé of Count Dooku..."
"Are all the men in the galaxy obsessed with Twi'leks or what?" the Togruta thought with slight resentment. "The Emperor at least alternates between alien species, but the Count seems to be either with her or with his hand..."
Suddenly, the bunker shook from an explosion, covering the entire space from the upper floors to the main level with cracks. Almost at the same second, several shots rang out from the stairs — Fixer and Scorch had joined the fray. Donita, rightly judging that the deadly bolts were meant for her, intercepted several with the tips of her blades, but in fact, the clones weren't aiming at her at all.
The Devaronian, caught in the crossfire, was forced to take cover again behind the containers and fire blindly at the clones from there. Mercenaries and droids were already rushing to his aid, flooding the area with streams of crimson blaster bolts.
All the Separatists were stunned for a moment by the explosion, but then Sha'ala Donita moved toward Ahsoka, completely ignoring what was happening around her. With her sword in her right hand, occasionally using her left hand to spin the weapon into an energy vortex. The Togruta, opening herself to the Dark Side, which caused a moment of hesitation in her opponent, lunged forward under the Twi'lek's weapon, destroying that mad whirl with a precise thrust, simultaneously executing a sweep that Donita dodged by leaping up.
Ahsoka, quickly getting back to her feet, was smaller and lighter than her Twi'lek opponent. At least a head and ten kilos. And that opened up new possibilities for the development of this conflict.
The opponents clashed again. Overwhelmed by the brute force of Sha'ala Donita's Form V, the Togruta was forced to rely on the defensive style of Form III to keep the aggressive attacks of her larger opponent at bay.
Rapidly spinning her lightsaber pike, the Twi'lek jumped high into the air and came crashing down on her opponent. Ahsoka blocked the attack, but was knocked to the floor. She rolled onto her back and barely managed to raise one of her swords in time to block the next sharp thrust. The energy of the lightsabers hissed on contact as Donita's blows rained down. The Togruta held her off from landing a direct hit with a masterful defensive flurry, then, executing a sweep, managed to knock the Twi'lek off her feet, sending them both onto their backs. As soon as her opponent was close, Ahsoka slammed her left elbow into her face with full force, making the enemy yelp in pain and roll away.
They sprang to their feet simultaneously, mirror images; their blades met with another deafening crash and crackle before they pulled apart again. From the clones' direction, Ahsoka heard terse shouts, but the girl tried to block them out.
In that same second, a thermal detonator (the bastard Devaronian!) landed at her feet. Without a second thought, she used the Force to hurl it toward her opponent while surrounding herself with a Force Barrier. An explosion rang out, and the spot where the Twi'lek had stood was engulfed in smoke. Approving cheers rose from the clones, who, in the few seconds of the skirmish, had literally buried the only passage inside with the hulls of dead droids. They thought the fight was over… Ahsoka herself thought so too. Frankly, she was disappointed that she hadn't been able to… For the first time, she felt that she was up against a sufficiently experienced and trained opponent… And the confrontation had ended so quickly… When Oli had talked to her, she'd said the Emperor could toy with his opponents for dozens of minutes, testing their strength, calling upon the depths of his own power and knowledge… And here…
It seemed she had to accept that her area of expertise and application wasn't a grand display of Force techniques at all, but simple slaughter on the battlefield, where everything was decided in seconds, and confrontation…
"Miserable Jedi filth," came the Twi'lek's voice, who, coughing and showing numerous shrapnel wounds across the entire front half of her body, limping slightly on her right leg, finally appeared, rising from behind a transport container that had stood in front of her a moment ago. "I'll stick my saber in you and tear you apart!"
"Calm down, sweetie," Ahsoka felt an aggressive fervor bubbling inside her. "I've had things in me far more interesting and obviously thicker than your pike. And see, I'm still alive. I even liked it. I'll complete the mission — I'll definitely repeat it later. I've earned it."
The Twi'lek stared at her, stunned, processing the meaning of what she'd just heard. Meanwhile, the Togruta could assess the situation around her.
It seemed everyone had forgotten about them. They were fighting in the part of the level where the stairs were; the battle between the clones and the droids was taking place in the diametrically opposite part of the bunker. With precise shots from his sniper DC rifle, Sev kept the B2 super battle droids and heavily armed mercenaries away from the entrance. Scorch, using a grenade launcher and cracking jokes that kept the clones laughing while reloading, literally mixed the Separatist reinforcements with the dirt, expertly blowing them up as soon as they appeared on the horizon.
The bunker shook a second time, making the cracks in the walls even larger, and the stairwell behind Ahsoka was buried under debris from the walls and ceiling.
"Ah!" Scorch yelled cheerfully. "They decided to come from above! A bunch of dumb 'tin cans'!"
Fixer was digging into the Separatist computer guts, carefully extracting stacks of information disks and placing them inside his plastic backpack, while Boss fired from cover, having dug up a heavy Separatist stationary blaster repeater somewhere.
"I'll kill you," Ahsoka heard the Twi'lek hiss. The Togruta assessed that in the few seconds this exchange took, her opponent had covered no more than half a meter of the five separating them, and just shook her head. If Donita didn't understand this, the commander clearly saw the result of the skirmish. The Twi'lek had lost. In that state, she wouldn't last long.
Donita's tenacity hadn't done her any good: her breathing was ragged, her shoulders were slumped. Blood flowed from numerous cuts and abrasions, shrapnel from the thermal detonator glinted in her shoulder and stomach. Wounded and weakening by the second… The puzzle clicked together in Ahsoka's head.
The Togruta lunged at the Twi'lek again. But this time, Sha'ala didn't retreat. She stepped forward and made a quick lunge, switching from Form III to the more precise and aggressive Form II. Makashi was a perfect equivalent in this case. The only problem was that the girl knew this form rather poorly, having only just started studying it. But she knew all the necessary fundamentals of facing a light pike, thanks to a short but productive training session with Lady Grell. With an unexpected maneuver, she caught Donita off guard, and the latter hesitated for a moment, slow to register the change. An attempt to parry the strike deflected the white blade aimed at her chest, but only enough for it to slash open the Twi'lek's right shoulder.
Sha'ala Donita, screaming in pain, dropped her saber from her suddenly weakened fingers. She recoiled and then rolled to a safe distance.
Struggling to her feet, Donita extended her left hand toward the lightsaber lying on the ground a meter away. It jumped into the air and landed in the woman's palm; the Twi'lek assumed a combat stance again. Her right arm hung uselessly — Ahsoka smiled, realizing she had damaged the muscles and tendons. Some Force-sensitives, especially Jedi, trained to fight with both hands, but Donita's entire demeanor showed she hadn't reached that stage yet. The weapon clutched in her palm felt clumsy and unwieldy. With a saber in her left hand, she was no match for Ahsoka. The fight was over.
Her opponent felt it too.
"Defeat isn't sweet, Separatist bed-warmer," the girl said caustically, twirling her blades in her hands. "You've lost."
She didn't ask her opponent to surrender; there was no talk of capitulation — it was clear enough. Ahsoka was simply mocking her defeated opponent. A small concession to the Dark Side.
"You won't kill me," Sha'ala retorted, trying to spin the pike in her left hand. It didn't turn out as well as she'd hoped — the Togruta saw that. "You're a Jedi, even if you're somehow different from what they say about you…"
"Well, I had a fitting teacher," Tano grinned. "Speaking of which, I'm going to deliver you to him."
"Oh, right," the Twi'lek smiled back. "Take me prisoner, throw me in jail…"
"Not even close," Ahsoka giggled. "My… master has completely different plans for pretty, single females of other species. Besides, you're a valuable source of information, as an associate of Count Dooku. And my lord doesn't stand on ceremony when it comes to getting the data he needs… You see, he loves to use both sides of the Force…"
As she spoke, the girl saw the tattooed Twi'lek's eyes widen. It was unclear what she was imagining in her pretty little head (Ahsoka noted that the Separatist was quite pretty — no less beautiful than Aayla Secura or Xiaan Amersu, just a bit older than both), but the Dark Side flared within her with renewed strength.
"Wonderful," Ahsoka rejoiced. "The provocation worked. And now the fun begins."
Delivering yet another pretty thing to the Emperor's headquarters, someone he would inevitably squeeze dry and then, unsurprisingly, drag into his bed, was not something the Togruta actually intended. She was just playing with her victim, savoring new facets of the Dark Side.
But despite the emotions raging within her, she refused to give her opponent the satisfaction of ending her life. Besides, only now, noticing Boss fussing over Fixer, who had taken a wound to the right side of his chest, near the pile of burning rubble that, a minute ago, had been the Separatist computer, the girl realized the idea she had just voiced was actually a good one. She had lost a fair number of clones, had recklessly plunged into this raid, and it was still unknown if she could fight her way back with a wounded clone and only three commandos, past nearly thirty kilometers of devastated city separating her from the clone positions. Apparently, Fixer hadn't been able to retrieve all the information from the computer, and Donita was an excellent source of intelligence…
It seemed the Twi'lek would have to be kept alive after all.
The girl's heart was beating so loudly she could hear the blood rushing through her veins. Trembling with helpless rage, which she tried to overcome, she lowered her head, examining her blades.
"Kill me and get it over with," a note of pleading crept into the Twi'lek's voice. Ahsoka raised her head, noting that Donita had shifted closer to the still-shooting Devaronian, a good meter closer to him. "I won't be your prisoner, and I won't let you reveal my teacher's secrets…"
"Nobody gives a shit what you want," she finally managed to quell her rage, and a mild apathy settled over the girl. She had already figured out that the Twi'lek was moving toward a pile of containers to her left, hoping to take cover behind them and then slip through the still-open passage. "You're coming with me."
"I doubt it," Sha'ala Donita said with undisguised malice, twisting and throwing her light pike, which spun around its axis. Ahsoka instantly calculated the trajectory of the throw — she wouldn't have time to raise her own blades to parry, so, ducking down, she dropped into a split, extending both hands in front of her. The Force, surging from her palms, crashed into the pile of containers Donita was running past. Under the combined impact of the Push and gravity, the metal cubes toppled down, crushing the Twi'lek and pinning her under their weight, simultaneously cutting her off from the life-saving passage.
The crimson blades gouged the wall at the level where the girl's head had been moments before. With ease, the Togruta returned to her initial stance, pulled the trophy to her and clipped it to her belt. Then, noticing that more and more droids were pouring in and the clones were barely holding them off, she extended her hand toward the armored bulkhead. Closing her eyes for a moment, the girl visualized the mechanism of the device, jerked her hand down, and with a crash, brought the plate down, cutting off a small squad of B1s from the main enemy force.
"Well, what a Hutt!" came the curses of the Devaronian, who realized he was locked in the same room with four clones and a Jedi. "Hey, you," raised hands appeared from behind his cover, tossing out a blaster carbine. "I surrender."
"Step out from behind the containers," with two precise shots, Sev took out the last droids. The mercenary's horned head appeared, smiling, showing his good nature. "Drop all your weapons on the floor."
"Yeah, sure, guys," the Devaronian assured them, with one hand unfastening the straps of a belt loaded with enough ammunition to equip an entire squad. "I'm surrendering, all that."
"What's the sudden change?" Ahsoka inquired, approaching the unconscious Sha'ala Donita. Directing the Force at the senseless body, the Togruta instantly understood that she no longer posed a threat. Both legs were shattered, her left collarbone broken, several ribs cracked. She probably wouldn't cause any trouble anytime soon. "Your troops are right outside the bunker…"
"Well, looks like you're out of the loop," the Devaronian broke into a grin. "While all this shit was going down here," he gestured toward the mountains of scrap metal and mercenary corpses, "your LAAT/is dropped the 204th Legion's landing force near the bunker, and the 501st Legion broke through our defenses and got right up to the central part of the city — they're stationed literally a kilometer from us."
"Boss!" Sensing she knew who was behind this, the girl looked at the leader of Delta Squad. "Your doing?"
"Yes, Commander," the clone responded without a hint of apology. "Plan B, as the Grand Moff called it. Either drag you back to headquarters, or blow up the ray shield generator, barricade ourselves here, and call for reinforcements. Not to mention we mined and destroyed the remnants of the Separatist anti-air defenses along the way."
"So," the Devaronian dropped to his knees, hands clasped behind his head, "I'd rather sit it out here. That Grand Moff of yours is a genuine maniac. In less than five minutes from the landing, he wiped out a battalion of droids. And his little Jedi — butchers too. I'm the last of Dooku's mercenaries in this sector, and you'll find everything I can tell you in exchange for decent conditions of captivity very useful."
"Sneaky horned bastard," Sev cursed, leaving his cover. "You should be shot on the spot — I saw what you did to Echo Company of the 501st on the right flank. That was a genuine meat grinder, using vacuum munitions. No survivors."
"What can you do, test-tube boy," the Devaronian smiled. "I fight while I'm paid and while the brass is close. But since you've bagged that shrew," he nodded toward the senseless Sha'ala Donita, whom Ahsoka had encased in Force Stasis, "and your guys are on the way — I'm not suicidal enough to fight to the last. I'm not paid for that. But you can throw in a couple thousand, and I'll spill my guts about how to infiltrate the rear of the neighboring fortified area."
"You're still bargaining, you piece of shit," Sev slammed his fist into the prisoner's smug face.
"Leave him, Delta-Seven," Ahsoka placed a hand on the agitated clone's shoulder. "When Dougan gets here, this mercenary will talk. Completely free. Whether he wants to or not."
* * *
Flash made his way through the ruins that had once been a beautiful city square. Well, maybe not beautiful — only a Hutt knew what this city looked like before the Separatists set their sights on it. Now it was just rubble. Rubble that had come at too high a price.
A girl walked beside him — she looked about thirteen or fourteen. Pretty enough, for a child. And a Jedi. But most importantly — smart.
The Marshal briefly explained the situation to the girl: the 501st had broken through the enemy front and reached the last line of defense, while the 204th had landed in the central square like snow on their heads, dug in, and struck the enemy in the rear. The outcome was, well, predictable: the front had been breached, the enemy pushed back to the opposite side of the settlement, where they were hastily digging in.
The Padawans had taken a very direct part in the offensive — the Grand Moff had ordered them distributed among the legions. The 204th, along with the Omega clone commando squad, got Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy. Good thing she allowed them to call her just Beth. Otherwise, repeating that name would have been a real pain. Flash didn't suffer from tongue-tiedness, but saying that name every time you wanted to address a commander… no one had announced a contest for tongue twisters and diction.
The other legions that were part of the 8th Infantry had also gotten a Jedi and a commando squad each. So, the 187th Legion, under Marshal Tit, received the Jedi commander Whie Malreaux as a bonus. True, Tit's sullenness had lifted slightly when he heard he was getting Aiwha Squad — one of the most professional units, staffed entirely by war veterans. With guys like that, a lot could be accomplished.
The 313th Legion, under Marshal Kaymaker, got the Padawan Bene — a real flower of a girl. This assignment was balanced by attaching Desolation Squad to Kaymaker. But that was just a fact. Having commandos under your command was always a good thing. And even if they hadn't tasted tibanna yet (which gave Kaymaker the biggest headache), it was still better to have a commando squad than not.
The 716th Legion… well, a pity about its commander, who ran into a camouflaged spider droid, but they'd appoint a new one in time. The mechanized legion had made a huge contribution to destroying the enemy with its cavalry-style attacks on speeder bikes, and had greatly assisted in suppressing the Separatists' heavy equipment with a tank assault. And the boy-Jedi — Nuru Kungurama — and his Breakthrough Squad — only three fighters, but such craftsmen! — had made a titanic contribution to collapsing the Separatist front. And even if officially all the credit would go to the 501st Legion of the 7th Air Corps — after all, those guys did most of the work — rumor had it that the Grand Moff wouldn't let anyone be left out in the cold.
Returning his thoughts to his charge (again, the Grand Admiral's order — don't take unnecessary risks with Jedi commanders), Flash briefly outlined the situation on the Republic forces' positions, hoping she would appreciate their swift advance. The girl asked a lot of questions — unlike her fellow Padawans, she had spent the entire attack in the rear, coordinating the actions of various legions. The kid had a real tactical sense. But, outside of a combat setting, her questions — as simple as they were frankly amateurish — were starting to get annoying. He wondered how quickly she would realize Dougan wasn't the kind of man who tolerated stupidity. Flash had barely countermanded her order for a premature LAAT launch to the Separatist headquarters positions before confirmation that most of the enemy anti-air artillery had been destroyed. If she had kept it up for even a little longer, she would have bitterly regretted her shortsightedness. Flash hadn't commanded the 204th for long, but he had learned to gauge his soldiers' moods — unjustified losses weren't tolerated here. And, as in the entire army under the Grand Moff, soldiers still talked about how Dougan had gotten rid of the Jedi who had gotten thousands of brothers killed on Geonosis. Some clones whispered that Dougan had known the ship carrying the undesirable Jedi would be intercepted by Separatists and everyone on board killed — but so far, there was no evidence of this. Except for one small detail: the Consular-class cruiser the Jedi had departed on was not piloted by clones. For some reason, the Grand Moff had ordered pilot droids assigned to that specific ship. Conspiracy theory enthusiasts whispered that this was clearly no coincidence.
Flash himself frankly couldn't care less about the truth of the matter.
The soldiers loved Dougan — he was like a father to them, he understood them, but there was a line that was better not crossed. Dougan organically could not stand unnecessary losses or having his orders questioned — and Flash didn't consider this a weakness. On the contrary, it was a necessary trait of a real commander. It was very important to be able to show who was in charge. Especially when you were a member of the Jedi Order, whose strategic talents already had a reputation among the Kaminoan clones as slightly less than… Well, in short, it was pretty grim there.
For a while, Tallisibeth was silent, then, looking at him, she asked:
"Aren't you supposed to be wearing your helmet? Isn't that mandatory in a combat zone?"
Transparisteel shards crunched under Flash's boots — the remnants of what had once been a huge display window on the first floor of the nearest building.
"We're deep in the rear." He pointed the girl toward the empty ruins around them. A thought flickered through his mind: If you're so smart, you can carry this 'bucket' yourself every minute. And he continued with a hint of irony: "If you're so sure about it — why aren't you wearing one?"
"Haven't you thought about moving this line back?" The girl pointed at the third line of defense they were approaching. Engineers were turning the rubble into permanent positions — in case the enemy had the strength and courage to break through the first two. The kid seemed to not be listening to him at all.
"If we pull back this defensive line, then in case the guys from the first two lines have to retreat, they'll have to cover more than fifty meters under enemy fire," he explained.
"But at the same time, by filling these positions with heavy weapons," the girl insisted, "you could have more kill zone in case the forward units retreat. Then the positions I suggested would become more advantageous."
Ah! She apparently had no shortage of audacity. As if he needed her to start criticizing their tactics and strategy! She wasn't a clone child. She was of the know-it-all breed, or at least afraid to admit she didn't know something. He needed to deal with this — otherwise, the senior clone commander would have no end of trouble with her.
"Thanks for the advice, but High General Dougan thinks they're in the right place," the clone cut her off harshly. "And for your information — each of our defensive lines is so stuffed with heavy weapons that if the droids try anything, they won't get past the first one. Especially since the 716th Legion has deployed behind us and already assigned firing sectors for their AV-7 cannons."
"But they're two kilometers behind this line!" The girl insisted. "They need reliable cover."
Oh, for the love of… "May you be tossed up and torn apart!"
"They also need a suitable firing distance," the clone said didactically. "Those cannons can't fire closer than one kilometer in front of them — the elevation angle won't allow it."
"What if I order you to move the guns? You're a clone commander, and I'm a Jedi, so by rank, I outrank you."
"I am a senior clone commander," Flash began to boil. "And I command the legion. Grand Moff Dougan commands our entire corps — we all follow his orders. There are principles of unified command and subordination that we follow strictly — especially in this army. And you, by rank, are just a minor with an oversized cutter, and I am not obligated to follow your orders."
Even in the darkness, thanks to the glow of the fires raging around them that refused to go out, Flash could see a blush of embarrassment appear on the girl's face. Ah, so she remembered she wasn't in command here — she was just gaining experience. Like all Padawans in the 8th Infantry. Except that Commander Starstone enjoyed a greater degree of freedom. And Commander Tano actually commanded the 501st Legion. But those two had more combat experience than all the ones High Jedi General Dougan had assigned to the remaining legions of his corps after breaking the 501st's encirclement.
"I am a Padawan…"
She started to say something, then faltered. Flash didn't have to interrupt her.
"Listen, kid," taking advantage of the temporary lull in the girl's verbal diarrhea, the clone decided to impart his lesson, "I'm going to have to explain the real situation to you."
Tallisibeth looked at him from under her brow. Flash had never had to deal with Jedi Padawans before, especially small female ones biologically at most four years older than him, so he didn't know how to handle her. But he knew perfectly well how a Jedi should behave — the example was currently on the second line of defense, being the first to attack an enemy bunker besieged by enemy forces. This girl behaved differently.
"I still think…"
This time he interrupted her:
"Thinking is good for your health," he remarked, stopping the girl and placing a hand on her shoulder. "It prolongs your life. Look at my arms and legs — prosthetics. The result of me thinking wrong. A lesson for life. One I remembered, learned, and accepted. High Jedi General Dougan made it perfectly clear to me, and to all the other legion commanders where your comrades were sent — you are under our responsibility. You observe — but you don't interfere. I'm sure smart thoughts can pop into your pretty little head from time to time — and my job is precisely to not let you be faster than them. For all of you right now, this is practically a training ground — watching and gaining experience. Seeing my brothers die because of mistakes or out of necessity. Drawing conclusions. The fewer mistakes we all make — the more droids will be destroyed, and the more clones will return home."
"Home?" The girl blinked. "To Kamino?"
"No!" Flash didn't like the place he was created. He even hated it. Because there, he was treated like a thing. A product. That's how they were treated during service too. And after his injury. Only when he first got to the 13th Sectoral, and then to the 10th System Army, did he understand what it was like when everyone around you — from a simple technician to the highest commander — treated you like a person. That's why he, like most clones who had joined the army, as soon as he heard about the Empire of Zakuul — a place where all clones had equal rights with ordinary beings, where they were entitled not only to duties but also to rights — joined the conspiracy without hesitation. Though, as one of the regimental commanders, Richie, later told him in secret, if he had refused, or been found guilty of treason, there would always have been brothers who would have helped him drown. And despite there being practically no bodies of water on Christophsis, that would have puzzled very few. There had already been cases like that. The counterintelligence didn't even bother. "Every clone has his own home — a place he wants to return to after the war."
Flash would have gladly shown her the citizen ID card of the Eternal Empire of Zakuul, securely hidden under his chest plate, where, in Galactic Basic, both his status as Senior Commander of the 204th Assault Legion and the address of his small but cozy apartment on one of the Empire's planets were clearly written. As well as his steadily growing bank account, where, since he joined the conspiracy, his SALARY had been deposited monthly! The last point — a complete mind-breaker for every soldier who had secretly joined the Imperial Army and Navy, because in the Republic army, clones fought and died, receiving only food in return — those lousy dry rations that turned your stomach once you tried normal food. Which Flash, like most clones, had first tasted right here on Christophsis. Yes, the rations were still around — in case the impossible happened and the unit wasn't supplied with hot meals. Although, in the clone's memory, such a case had never occurred.
And the salary… yes, it wasn't the biggest (Flash had talked to the medics on Christophsis — they got several thousand dataries for the same period) — about five hundred credits a month for an ordinary soldier in an assault unit. But it existed. And even by Republic standards, it was a lot of money. Especially for clones who were only just beginning to experience all the delights of commodity-money relations.
"Tell me, Flash," the girl asked unexpectedly, "are you ever scared?"
"Yes," the clone answered frankly, continuing to study her facial features. He hadn't seen many women in his life, but this girl was definitely beautiful by his standards. "Every time things get hectic. What about you?"
"Jedi don't get scared," the girl replied, her answer not exactly dripping with sincerity. "We're taught to do without emotions. Suppress them."
"Crappy worldview," Flash retorted. "If you hold your hand over a fire and it hurts, do you keep it there?"
"Well..."
"What for? To prove to someone you're not afraid of pain? That's stupid," Flash stated decisively. "Same with fear. If you're not scared in war, it means you haven't grasped how serious the situation is. Or you're a complete idiot. And take it from me — both types don't last long."
"It's... complicated, for a Jedi," the girl said quietly.
Flash scanned with his eyes for a nearby large boulder he could park his rear on. He didn't want to talk while looking down at the girl. Her head was such a mess right now that he needed to demonstrate clearly — he was her friend.
Finding a suitable one, he gestured for her to join him. The stone was still warm to the touch, so it was fine to sit on. For a while. When it started to cool, that meant it was time to get up.
Senior Clone Commander Flash preferred to teach by doing. The simplest method was to throw a girl into the thick of it. Survive — good, you have a brain. Don't survive — dead weight shed.
But the clone wasn't about to do that to a child, even if she was older than him. He'd have to go easier on her. She was just a kid, simultaneously in euphoria and uncertainty about her new rank. "Right," Flash snorted to himself. "If she starts screaming at the top of her lungs that she's a Jedi Commander, that'll probably short-circuit the droids."
"Let me tell you something about our army," the clone said in a good-natured tone. "We have a lot like me..."
"Clones?"
"Soldiers," Flash corrected her. "And all of us — clones, volunteers, militia, even sympathizers, even civilians on planets under our army's control — everyone answers to Grand Moff Dougan. He has an entire fleet and four corps of fighters directly under his command — that's a task force deployed where everyone else is guaranteed to screw up. When there's that kind of danger, the Grand Moff gathers us all and goes to strip the 'tin cans' for parts. And he doesn't relay his orders to every single fighter individually. That's why all fighters are organized into units — squads, platoons, companies, battalions, regiments, legions, corps. Each unit has a commander. In my case, I command the 204th Corps, but I receive orders from beings senior to me in rank and position. In this case," he gestured around at the ruins, "I received the order from High Jedi General Dougan. Yeah, you can start blowing smoke about how only Jedi Masters have the right to such ranks, but in 'Gent,' nobody gives a damn. We have our own rules. We have a leader and we all follow him. Those who don't want to... well, they don't get found. At least, in our legion, there haven't been any for a long time. Alive, anyway. Subordination of junior to senior is called chain of command, and it's important: we all need to know who's in charge, otherwise there'll be total chaos — say five different beings give you different orders — who do you listen to?"
"The one with the higher rank?" the girl guessed.
"Or position," Flash added. "Say. If some Master of yours gives me an order that contradicts what the Grand Moff ordered, I'll tell that Master to go take a very long walk. Because for me, a commander from another system army can't give orders while I'm under the Grand Moff. And you'll be getting your orders from him too, because you're his subordinate. So, everything clear so far?"
Her stubbornly jutting chin softened noticeably, but her pretty mouth remained as stern as her gaze.
"Yes, sir," she said playfully. "But if someone from the Jedi Council orders me, as a Jedi, I'm obliged to obey."
"Here we go again," Flash said, taken aback. "What the hell for?"
"Because I'm not just a Commander, but a member of the Jedi Order," the girl said with a hint of pride.
"Then you really suck at reading the bulletins this Order of yours puts out," Flash said without malice. "It's been about six months since the Supreme Chancellor integrated the Jedi Order into the command structure of the Grand Army of the Republic. So all those little internal Jedi politics games of yours are just empty words."
"Sorry, I didn't know," the girl admitted. "I was stuck in the Temple... for a very long time."
"It's fine," Flash tried to smile. Admitting your mistakes was the first step to avoiding them in the future.
"Want to know the main soldier's commandments?" he asked after a moment of silence. "I mean the ones they don't teach in the Temple."
"What makes you think you know what Jedi are taught?" the girl wondered.
"Watching you..."
"I do." Her chin relaxed just a little more. "Experience matters a lot."
"Now this is progress!" Flash mentally cheered. And in the same second, he felt uneasy. What was the point of rubbing the kid's nose in it? He needed to learn to compromise. Otherwise, what kind of mentor was he? Just some typical fool with a high rank. He'd known a couple of those guys.
"First," he said, moving on to the promised instruction. "Orders. You follow orders. And thanks to them, you stay alive. Second. You're part of a team. We take care of our comrades — I cover you, you cover me. And third. An officer's rank alone doesn't guarantee you respect. You have to earn it. We're loyal to Dougan not because of his rank, but because he treats us with respect. He doesn't throw us into the fray for nothing. He takes care of our day-to-day — rations, rest, equipment. Even this armor," he tapped the chest plate of his "Infiltrator," "that's his doing. It's way better than what we wore in the first year of the war. By implementing it, Dougan saved a lot of us — now we don't have to be afraid of Separatist small arms. Of course, it doesn't always stop heavy repeaters — but 'Phase 1' couldn't even stop E-5 carbines. And yeah, General Dougan talks to us as equals. The troops really appreciate that kind of attitude — when they're seen not as cannon fodder, but as regular people. Even if they all look the same."
The clone fell silent to let her digest his words. She was probably desperate to be taken seriously and treated like an adult. Well, she was going to grow up fast in this war anyway. But it would be better if she did it while staying alive.
"You practically worship Master Dougan," the girl said with a hint of admiration.
"High Jedi General Dougan," Flash corrected. "You can address him as that, or 'General Dougan,' 'Grand Moff Dougan.' We're in the army, not some arts-and-crafts circle."
"The Order is not a circle!" the girl flared up.
"Well, a special interest club then," Flash shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. I've served with a lot of Jedi, just like the troops in this and two neighboring system armies. And believe me — no one has earned more respect among the soldiers than General Dougan. Even though he's one of your kind."
"There's logic in that." She finally acknowledged he was right. "But respect still has to be earned."
"Two smart thoughts in ten minutes!" Flash was impressed.
"Yes, Beth, you're right about that," he nodded. "There's no blind adoration or worship of the General. We respect him for his actions. I think over time, you'll learn too."
"I... will do everything I can," the girl promised. "I'll listen to orders and carry them out. I'll protect clone lives and never jump to conclusions. Honestly, I want to learn how to fight. And I hope that you and the other clo... troops, will teach me."
The lesson was almost over. Now they would become friends, he was sure of it.
"My guys from the 204th Legion and I will do everything we can to make you a worthy Jedi Commander," he promised. "But only if you're ready to keep your ears and eyes open to what's happening and never panic."
"Deal," the girl extended her hand for a handshake. The clone took it.
"Well, since we've heard each other out, I have to tell you something," Flash said, scratching the back of his head. "Something so important that your life depends on it."
"What?"
"Don't move," he asked.
"Why?" the girl tensed noticeably.
"You're standing on an anti-personnel mine," the clone drew her gaze downward, pointing under her feet where, among the countless stone chips and broken transparisteel, a dim red light glowed on the detonator of the infernal device. "That's a pressure detonator — you take your foot off, and we go sky-high."
"But... This part of the city was cleared by sappers!" the girl's eyes went wide. "How did this..."
"Breaches happen," Flash acknowledged. "Come on, kid, what do you do in a situation like this?"
"Is this some kind of joke?" the girl was stunned. "Call the sappers — we're both in danger."
"They won't make it in time," the clone informed. "This type of detonator is designed either for immediate detonation if the pressure changes. Or with a ten-standard-minute delay if pressure is maintained. Nine of those minutes we've already talked through. Come on, Commander, you wanted to learn how to command. Do it."
For a moment, it seemed the girl was at a loss. She stared at the mine under her right foot with a fixed, glassy gaze for about ten seconds, then looked at the clone and said in a firm voice:
"Leave. At least one of us should survive and report the failed clearance."
"Not acceptable," the clone shook his head, not moving from his spot. "Commandment two — we're part of a team. We don't abandon our own."
"Then we'll both die!"
"We'll find out in twenty seconds," the clone said indifferently, inwardly disappointed in the girl.
But in the next second, Tallisibeth thrust her hands toward him. The clone was surprised by her face twisted with strain, feeling a faint, invisible push against his chest.
"What was that?" he didn't understand.
"I'm not the strongest Jedi," the girl admitted, lowering her head. "I thought I could throw you back so you'd survive the blast and... Wait! This is a standard pressure mine, isn't it?"
"Yes," the clone agreed.
"And when the detonator is activated," the girl fixed him with a look full of inspired anger, complemented by pursed lips, "a standard mine has a blue light, not a red one!"
"So why is it red?" Flash nodded approvingly.
"Because the detonator has been removed!" the girl clenched her hands into fists. "Don't tell me you didn't know!"
"Of course I knew," Flash nodded. "But I had to test what I told you. Care for your troops — plus. Assessment of the situation — plus. Following orders — minus. Knowledge of soldier's commandments — also minus. Not a bad result for a start, Commander Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy. Welcome to the 204th Legion. Consider this your baptism by fire."
"Isn't there a commandment that lets you beat up a joker for a prank like this?" the girl stepped right up to the clone.
"No," the legion commander admitted. "But there is a fourth commandment: 'Don't hold grudges against your brothers in arms.'"
The girl froze for a moment, still clenching her little fists. So funny in her anger... And a second later, she relaxed, unclenching her fingers.
"I understand, Senior Commander Flash," she declared.
The clone smiled. The lesson was learned. Beth met his gaze for a second, then nodded in acknowledgment that he was right.
"So, Beth, do we understand each other?"
"Yes, sir, Flash. Nothing is more valuable than experience. And the sooner I start learning from it, the better."
The clone commander snorted, rising from his seat, giving the girl a restrained smile.
She smiled back, at first hesitantly, then wider and more sincerely, showing almost all her teeth. But Flash didn't feel any annoyance: the poor kid at that moment must have felt terrible. But that was the truth of life in war — either you think fast, or you die. Or you lose your arms and legs and spend the rest of your life with prosthetics instead of real limbs.
"Good," the clone put his helmet back on. Now that they were heading closer to the front lines. Full protection was necessary — just because you didn't see a sniper didn't mean he didn't see you. "Let's go, take a walk around the perimeter."
"Yes, Flash," the girl said enthusiastically, positioning herself just behind the clone.
She had backbone. Hopefully, they could keep her from getting killed while she was trying to prove it. And taking her lumps, losing troops and friends, gaining experience.
"What's that?" She slowly extended her hand, pointing ahead.
The object she'd spotted had eluded Flash's attention. From the sudden chatter of voices in his helmet, he realized the observation posts had spotted it at the same time as him and Beth. It was a huge, pale dome. Translucent and slightly shimmering, it was slowly consuming buildings on the outskirts of the city. It was moving. More precisely, it was increasing in volume.
The very one that almost wiped out the 501st's troops. And which they'd only managed to take down thanks to a desperate diversion. But something told the clone that luck wouldn't be on the Republic's side this time. At the very least, the color of the field was completely different. And his minimal technical knowledge was enough to understand — they were looking at hybrid technology.
Flash's stomach lurched.
"Damn. This leaves us with almost no chance."
"You didn't answer, Flash. What is it?"
"It's a reflecting field." He turned toward the corps' field headquarters, noting the bright explosions occurring under the dome as he moved. "A mix of deflector and particle shielding. And this is the end for us. Artillery won't touch it. And we probably won't get under it — alive, for sure. The Seps are bombarding whatever's fallen under their shield. We're heading back to HQ — this is bad."
"But you have a plan, right?" the girl clarified, breaking into a run after the clone.
"We always have a plan," the clone assured her. "And another one... and another. We try them all in order until we find the most effective one. And we hope we don't get killed before that."
"Maybe General Dougan will think of something before things get really, really bad," the girl said, as if it were a prayer.
For a few seconds, Flash ran in silence, watching the advancing hemisphere, estimating its speed. It would engulf the Republic positions long before they could deploy enough force to destroy it.
"Well, you need experience, kid," he sighed. "This is a great opportunity to get some."
"Don't worry," she said. "I've got your back."
Flash had no doubt. Beth was one of them now, a fighter of the 204th Legion.
"And I've got yours," he replied.