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Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Geonosis
He came to his senses with a cough.
He felt sluggish, as if he were drugged. Even the Force was not responding as quickly as he preferred. He tilted his head to the left and then to the right, searching for anyone. A medical droid, not the one he had in his ship, was there, adjusting the medicine.
"Report," he said, coughing as his dry throat was irritated.
"You have suffered grievous injuries. Your right arm was unsalvageable. Cybernetic parts have been fitted to your lungs due to the burns. I will inform Wat Tambor that you are awake."
"Water," he demanded.
Tambor was a puppet; he meant nothing to the grand plan.
It was his master that worried him. The failure to secure an alliance with the Hutts, the destruction of the fleet, and his betrayal of Nute Gunray would not go unpunished. While the Neimoidian didn't know much, the Trade Federation would be displeased to learn that the Viceroy was sold as a bargaining chip so he could save his life.
The droid held the glass to his lips, and he gulped the liquid greedily.
Once it was empty and he could lay down, the machine left, returning with Wat Tambor mere minutes later.
"Count Dooku," he bowed, adjusting the valve on his suit. "Our allies are disturbed by the events at Nar Kaaga."
"Nute Gunray will be retrieved," he assured, though not necessarily alive.
"It is beyond that. You have been asleep for two weeks. The Sorcerer of Tatooine isolated Neimoidia and the colonies from hyperspace lanes. He says it will not be removed until the Trade Federation is held responsible for the sale of weapons and ships to the Hutts," Tambor said. It had come as a shock to many that this young boy would take such an action when the Senate would have debated it for eternity.
Or close enough.
Dooku coughed, feeling his temples flare at the mention of the Sorcerer. "He wouldn't dare, not when they are a part of the Republic."
"Ambassadors have been sent to resolve the situation peacefully. However, he also threatened to blockade all systems containing Trade Federation outposts and factories," he said.
A federation built on trade wouldn't exist without trade.
"That would leave the Republic with no choice but to take military action." His master could certainly convince the Senate to target the Sorcerer. He might have been defeated, but against the full forces that the Republic could bear, he would not be so lucky.
"Our friends in the Senate report that the majority are too afraid their homeworlds would be isolated should the Sorcerer decide to take revenge." It did not stop them from calling for the Sorcerer's head though.
"Leave," he said, too still for Tambor's instincts. He did as ordered, leaving the room with haste.
Dooku screamed, and the Force responded. His fury, hatred, and pain bled into it, drowning him in the dark side. The medical equipment in the room began to levitate. The bacta tank's glass shattered, flooding the room with medicine. The droid itself began to repeat 'error' over and over again.
With one last heave, all the objects were flung away. The med-droid slammed into the wall, its voice module sputtering a string of beeps before its ocular modules went dark.
He breathed raggedly, feeling a sting in his chest with each rise and fall.
—
Tatooine
Fort Freedom
"The Hutt fleet didn't have supplies for a long campaign. By our estimates, they've been out of food for nearly a week, even with rationing," Corlen said, leaving his place to the Supreme Marshall.
"The main target is the cruisers," Qymaen said, bringing the image of the nineteen ships on the holoprojector. "They create the bulk of the enemy's firepower. It is imperative that we retrieve them in working condition for our attack on Nal Hutta."
"The rest of the ships, while valuable, are not as important. If they can be taken, we shall, if not, leave them."
"We will board the ships depending on the number of living crews they have. Sorcerer and I will lead the teams. Our objectives are to secure the reactors and bridges to prevent any sabotage attempts." He highlighted the mentioned sections. The pirates and mercenaries were motivated solely by their loyalty to credits.
Spite, however, was a powerful motivator.
"Enemy crews will be given a warning to surrender. If they choose to fight, we will do so. Take prisoners if they surrender in battle. Otherwise, no mercy." He stopped, rolling his shoulders. The idea of offering mercy felt so distant to him.
"One last matter. Ventress rose from her seat, bringing an image of a Clawdite female. "Zam Wesell is a shapeshifter. She might try to escape by impersonating anyone. While she is not important, a shape-shifter could infiltrate our ranks for sabotage, provided she is in any condition to be found. Always move in teams."
"Any questions?" Qymaen scanned the room, waiting.
There were none.
"Dismissed."
—
Mos Espa Spaceport
He boarded the Strange Tides, having already informed his mother and teacher. Soldiers, half Kaleesh and half consisting of the population of Tatooine, boarded the remaining carriers in order. Qymaen's people had trained the soldiers of Freedom First well, transforming them into an inexperienced standing army rather than a ragtag group of rebels. There was still much to do and a lot to learn, but they were on the right path.
Artoo wheeled behind him with Ventress. Eight soldiers, split in half between Kaleesh and humans, took their place on the passenger seats. Anakin took the helm; she was on the sensors, and one of the soldiers manned the guns. Artoo started the takeoff protocols. The engines came alive, and all preflight checks were done in quick order.
He pulled the yoke up, raising the ship to the skies.
"Mystic Strike reporting, we are ready to proceed," came Qymaen's voice from the comms. The repaired cruiser, named Mystic Strike, was fitted with the weapons looted from the Trade Federation by Naboo. Fifty starfighters, mostly the ones sent from Naboo, painted and modified slightly to avoid recognition, waited in its hangars, armed and ready.
Thirty transport ships were behind the cruiser. Three thousand soldiers were overkill against the starving crews of the cruisers.
"Entering hyperspace," he called. He felt the hyperdrive hum, felt the foreign energies fill the machine. The fleet shot forward as one. He brought his hands together, focusing on the fold point.
The visualization of the hyperspace was simple in his mind. A tunnel, one where he could feel the traveling ships as spheres pushing through a sea of sand. The fold points, where the Mirror Space reversed the course of the ships and cleaved that sea in half, were two glaring points.
They were approaching the first one.
He dismissed the fold point by simply dismissing the mirror space from the location, allowing the ships to pass safely.
"The queen says that the Senate is in a state of chaos. There are a lot of voices demanding action against you," Ventress said, watching her young comrade. Padme had advised him to use the opportunity to squeeze credits out of the Federation to support their cause. He had refused, instead disappearing with Strange Tides to cut the lifeblood of Neimoidia off.
His narrowed blue eyes were visible beneath the cowl, as was his scowl. "Did she give names too?"
"What are you going to do, declare war on them?" she asked, crossing her arms. He knew that the queen would be overjoyed to see several senators taken down low. Not at the cost of a war, though.
"Of course not. I am not a warmonger. I am simply going to blockade those planets too," he muttered. Just closing a couple of the busiest hyperspace lanes would have the Republic hemorrhaging due to the disrupted supply chains.
"The Trade Federation representative seems too stubborn to fold. He claims, again, that Gunray was acting on his own, that he is a rogue agent."
He hung his head back, his neck bending to the headrest. "How exactly can the Viceroy of the Trade Federation be a rogue agent?"
"By simply revoking his position. He is no longer the Viceroy, at least not while he is a prisoner."
"They can go f… you know what, forget it," he said, taking a deep breath. While his teacher had taught him that particular profanity by accident, he found it quite fitting to this situation.
"She is simply worried you are making too many enemies." Not that they hadn't earned the ire of many worlds by defeating the Hutts. This was just making it harder to buy anything from the Republic.
"Given I can cripple the entire galaxy without even being caught, those senators should be the ones to worry."
"We are approaching the estimated location of the enemy fleet. All crews, be ready," Qymaen ordered from the comms.
The soldiers unholstered their weapons, sitting straighter.
"Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one," he counted, bringing the ship to a stop. The streaks left small afterimages behind before the stars dotted the darkness of space once more.
"Let's see," Ventress said, watching the sensors. "Nineteen cruisers, sixty ships of varying sizes. All have low power. Two of the cruisers seem dead. Another has its bridge blown out."
"Attention Hutt fleet! I am Qymaen jai Sheelal, the Supreme Marshall of Freedom First. Many of you also know me as Griveous. You are weak, starved, and in no condition to fight. Surrender and you will be treated as prisoners. Those that can respond, do so now. Ships that cannot communicate will have their entire crew moved to the hangar, face first, weapons surrendered to await our arrival," the Supreme Marshall said on an open channel. He spoke as a true general should, confident and steady, as if nothing could shake him in that moment.
"Sorcerer, meet me in Wesell's ship," Qymaen said.
"See you there," he replied, steering the ship towards the cruiser. It was exactly the same as Mystic Strike, aside from bearing the sigil of a different Hutt clan. Its lights were dead in most locations, the guns were silent, and the life signs were lower than expected. He watched the starfighters leave the Mystic Strike in five wings, escorting the troop carriers.
He approached the nearest airlock, angling the ship's dorsal docking ring. He docked the ship in a single pass with a combination of the Force and his prodigious abilities in flying making up for his lack of experience. The indicator light turned green, and the port door split in half, each side moving away to open the way forward.
Since there was no data port to hack the door open, Ventress went forward. Her lightsaber pierced through the metal with no resistance. She pushed it in a circle, leaving a glaring orange line behind, cutting a hole in the door. Once the circle was complete, a Force push sent it clattering on the floor.
Anakin entered first, creating a shield with one hand and creating knives with the other, guiding them with the Force. They had the added benefit of illuminating the dimly lit corridor.
The soldiers took point with Ventress and him at the front, proceeding towards the hangar. Ventress raised her hand just as they were about to turn a corner. The soldiers stopped and raised their weapons, waiting.
Two Weequays came running, looking behind in fright. Ventress pointed her lightsaber at one, and Anakin brought the knives to cover their escape route, and the weapons were immediately trained on them.
Both fumbled, dropping their weapons and falling on their knees.
"Please don't kill us," one begged, breath ragged.
"We won't. What is the status of the crew?" Ventress asked, lowering her saber. They were obviously escaping, but from whom?
"Broken into factions. We were all fighting each other for scraps of food and water."
She smirked. "I assume your faction lost?"
"We are the only ones left."
"Which means they are being pursued," Anakin said, turning the corner. More Weequays came out of the dark corridor, stopping before him, the grins of victory on their faces giving way to wide eyes and fallen jaws.
"It's him, the Sorcerer," one of the pirates said with a trembling voice, taking a single step back. Anakin's blades cast enough light for him to see the terror on the alien's face.
"You have one chance to surrender. I suggest you use it wisely," he said, spreading the blades apart.
One of them lost his grip on his blaster, letting it fall to the ground with a clank. The rest followed on their own volition.
—
"Brother, what took you so long?" Qymaen asked, seeing Anakin finally reach the hangar.
"Too many stragglers, but I think we got them all," he said as over a hundred pirates were guided inside, his presence alone keeping them in check.
"Wesell is nowhere to be seen, and all the lifeforms we detected are already taken prisoners," he said. Perhaps Anakin had a way to detect the shapeshifter.
"She is dead. Dassik ate her," a Weequay, one of the two Anakin first encountered, said.
Qymaen faced the alien, causing him to yelp. "Dassik?"
"A Trandoshan. He was hungry and took a problem with how she was rationing the food. That's what broke the crew into factions," he stuttered.
He glanced at Bentilais, who was responsible for the prisoners. "Do we have any Trandoshans in custody?"
The Izvoshra checked his datapad. "The Blood Bond team encountered one. He refused to surrender and was killed in action."
"What is the status of the remaining ships?" Anakin asked, floating towards the Kaleesh. This operation was proving to be an easy one.
"The crews are surrendering with promises of food and water. Only the most aggressive members hold out. They are dealt with for the most part."
"Good, good."
"Sinya, how long until we get these ships working and ready?" The sooner they left, the sooner they could begin to prepare for the attack on Nal Hutta.
He could almost taste the victory.
The pink Twi'lek smiled, handing a datapad to Anakin. "The fuel reserves are above fifty percent for the most part. Once the captains understood they were stranded, they shut down all non-essentials to preserve power for the life support systems. We can crew and get them ready to leave in a couple of hours."
Given their situation, it was the smartest thing they could do.
She swiped her finger on the screen, displaying the three damaged cruisers. "Two of the cruisers suffered serious damages to their reactors due to infighting. They will have to be towed along with the one that had its bridge destroyed. The thing is, I don't know where to get a hyperspace tow rig, much less three."
Salvagers were a dime a dozen in the Outer Rim. They simply were too afraid to work against the Hutts, even with the three enormous defeats the cartel had suffered.
"We'll have to repair them here. If not, just strip everything of value and leave them behind," Colren said. They weren't worth the delay.
—
Notes: Boring chapter, I know. We will have more action soon. I actually considered bringing a Starweird but decided to leave it be for now. We'll have Nal Hutta's invasion and see what the Senate is doing in the next chapters. Also, if everyone who enjoyed this story can leave a like this once, I'd appreciate it to see how many of you dear readers are here because of it.
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In the next chapter:
"Lord Tyranus, how are your wounds?"
Dooku blinked, not daring to raise his head. "I have healed well, my master."
"A pity." Sidious' voice turned into a sneer, as if he were addressing a bug. Dooku rose to the air, involuntarily, his windpipe being crushed. He instinctively clawed at his throat, knowing it would do nothing. Not when he couldn't stand up to his master.
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