The Force Wills - Chapter 39 (Patreon)

The following two weeks, the Resolute remained in an extremely high orbit around Dargulli, varying its course randomly every 15 minutes.

Our presence was dictated by political reality as we watched the fallout of the local government being thoroughly shook by the tremors of truth. The ship and its forces acted as a much needed reminder and bulwark against any remaining stupidity and knee-jerk reactions from all the various internal factions, including stopping any potential public mobs from engaging in some impromptu vigilante justice.

Governor Rieekan at last mobilized elements of the PDF to assist both the police and a number of 501st Clone companies that I had ordered deployed, to a number of local ‘hotspots’ that I had identified through prescience.

I’d be damned if I let the rescue of a single town become the fulcrum which let the entire planet become a mess of instability. A number of ‘focal points’ in the probability lines had emerged where citizens justly protesting what had happened, would allow a number of bad actors with an ax to grind the opportunity to escalate the protests into violent encounters. For a while I had feared we were dealing with CIS sympathizers or even infiltrators, but the interrogations of those that had been captured by the clones revealed they were either opportunistic criminals or just plain crazy folk who wanted to watch things burn.

This was all to just allow the time for the local government to sort things out.

There had been all sorts of calls for either early elections to be held or Rieekan to immediately resign. Those were thankfully dismissed as nonsense ideas by the governor, who in a rather impassioned and excellent speech to the people of Dargulli, implored them to calm down, let the investigations and justice proceed as it must. Naturally, the Republic and Jedi presence in orbit did a lot to calm things down, as did a rather off-the-cuff speech from Anakin to the local news media.

My time on the other hand was rather occupied with continuing training, the anti-piracy campaign and only occasionally managing the 501st in its deployment.

This involved lightning raid starfighter strikes in Beltrix, Mechis and Stobar, which saw the destruction of several pirate dens, six combat Hardcells and dozens of pirate starfighters. Most of the kills had been achieved by catching the pirates unprepared and on the ground, using the Phantom for maximum effect in determining the ideal time to strike.

On the other hand, it had also been long enough now that word of the Resolute’s presence in the cluster had filtered through the grapevines and the CIS at last, deigned to release the information to their privateers and recruited pirates.

The Phantom had immediately begun spotting the increased alert status of further pirate lairs and on a number of occasions even witnessed some pirate groups devolve into infighting among themselves. Clearly the news that the Republic was now actively scouring the cluster had inspired quite a few into fleeing for their lives for greener and safer pastures, whilst others rather stupidly wanted the fight or hang on to the CIS credit lines.

This was quite good news as it made my job so much easier.

“Commander, welcome back.”

I blew out a breath of relief as I removed my helmet and the cockpit canopy of my Z-95 opened above me.

“Admiral Yularen, what brings you down here to greet me in person?”

He waited until I was on the deck and handed off the fighter back to the crew chief before answering.

“New orders from Coruscant,” he explained.

“Now what?”

“I think it best this is done with a holotank, commander.”

Why did my stomach suddenly want to sink through the deck?

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The door to the briefing room opened and Anakin power walked in with R2 trundling along behind him.

“All right, Snips, I’m here, what’s so urgent?”

My only answer was to activate the large holotank showing a blown up strategic model of the galaxy, focusing on the south, specifically the stretch of the Hydian that ran from Pax all the way down to Malastare.

“I have some news, whether it is good, remains to be seen. The southern battlespace has been pushed back and out of Malastare and the CIS are back in Chyrra.”

I tapped a few more buttons and the holo zoomed in to detail the Malastare system itself.

“The problem is that doing so has left the southern fleets stretched and their losses from this push has the Council worried that we will be unable to consolidate and hold. The planet itself is still unsecured, there is a sizable droid army that is holding out. The local Dug Council has indicated that they do not have sufficient military resources or the ‘dug-power’ left to destroy this army, especially after the recent CIS occupation.”

I felt Anakin’s mood take a downshift instantly. Not surprising, given who his main rival was during his childhood pod racing days.

“To this end, we’ve been ordered to join a relief force led by Master Windu that is coming to secure Malastare and make sure we don’t fall prey to a counter-attack.”

“Just how many droids are we talking about?” he asked.

I zoomed in the holo to display the known CIS order of battle based on intelligence fed to us by the dugs.

“Tens of thousands; B1s, B2s, spider droids, LR-57s, AATs, Persuader droid tanks, all backed by a full air wing of Vulture and Hyenas, all under the command of hyper linked tactical droids.”

“We’re not digging that out quickly,” Anakin shook his head.

“A traditional campaign would take nearly a month,” Yularen indicated, looking up from his datapad. “That is time that Republic Intelligence indicates we can’t afford. That would leave more than enough time for the Separatists to mount a counterattack, which would leave us fighting on the ground and in space simultaneously. There is also the matter that Malastare is a significant source of starship grade reactor fuel, whoever possesses it eases their own logistics significantly.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes upon hearing Yularen’s tone. “So how are we solving this problem?”

In reply I tapped the holotank controls and the galaxy was replaced with a bulky angular, fin stabilized bomb.

“It seems that someone in Republic R&D had the same train of thought as the CIS at some point. What we are looking at is the Electro-Proton Bomb. A surface detonation weapon of mass destruction that is essentially the mother of all droid poppers.”

“Impressive, but a droid popper can hurt a biological being as well.”

“True, excuse my vernacular, master. In function it’s a droid popper, but the energy release is tuned in the EM spectrum to be harmless to anything non-mechanical. Any droid at ground zero up to a radius of six kilometers will be scrambled beyond repair, beyond that up to twelve kilometers, disruption and severe damage, long enough that it’ll be a simple matter of sending in troops to mop up. Even beyond that, most droids will experience disruption of some kind depending on how hardened they are.”

“Most impressive,” Anakin mused as he stared at the specs of the device that was flashing alongside it. “How many of these do we have?”

“Just the one prototype,” I replied wryly. “I can’t even see in this data if there’s been any test detonations yet.”

“One? And we’re going to be test mynocks?” he scoffed. “Then the only way is to draw out the droid army into one single place for a decisive battle. Have they figured out how to do that?”

“The dugs assure us they have that end of the mission covered.”

“We’ll just have to see. Do we have any more details on this bomb? I don’t want to put the 501st close if this thing potentially goes wrong.”

“Naturally, that is classified even for us, master. However, the lead engineer who designed it is going to be there to supervise deployment and arming of the bomb. We will both have the opportunity to thoroughly question her about it.”

“Good, what time frame are we looking at?”

“Master Windu’s relief force will arrive at Chardaan in a day, so including our travel time there, we have sixteen hours to wrap things up here in Dargulli. Then after the rendezvous it’s another two and half days to Malastare.”

“Very well, I’ll get 501st recalled to the Resolute and inform Governor Rieekan. Any squadrons still in the cluster?”

“No Master, all fighters are back aboard and undergoing their maintenance cycles.”

“Good, ready the Resolute for a departure in fourteen hours, that gives us some leeway for the rendezvous.”

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Resolute emerged into the Chardaan system and immediately angled for a burn towards the onward Hydian hyperspace point, which took a further three and a half hours, thanks to the relatively awkward and lesser used arrival angle from the Dargulli system.

Anakin’s decision to try for an early arrival turned out to be rather useful and prescient because Master Windu’s relief fleet entered the Chardaan system at the Ronyard emergence a full two hours early.

It consisted of seven Venators, ten Gun Acclamators and four troop transport Acclamators.

It was an impressive task force sized formation and would be sorely needed in the south, but in my own estimation, it needed to be doubled in size if we truly wanted to plug the gaps in the southern fleets.

The Malastare relief force would take two hours of cruise in normal space to reach the onward Shibric hyper point and true rendezvous, so Resolute went onward, whilst Anakin and I got in a Nu shuttle and intercepted the fleet.

We landed in Master Windu’s current flagship, the Triumph, about an hour later.

The Jedi Master himself was in the hangar to meet us as our shuttle’s embarkation ramp lowered.

“Knight Skywalker, Padawan Tano, good to see you again.”

“Master Windu,” Anakin greeted him with a slight hint of stiffness as he bowed.

“Congratulations on your recent efforts are in order.”

“Thank you Master, though there are still pirate dens we have yet to raid.”

“Your thoroughness is to be commended, but the message has been sent. I think that by the time Resolute returns you’ll find the remaining job much easier. Now, what brings you to the Triumph so urgently?”

“Both my padawan and I wish to use the time of our onward journey, to speak to the designer of the electro-proton bomb.”

“You have reservations about the weapon?”

Anakin shot a look my way briefly, “Yes, we have concerns that I think can only be addressed by Doctor Boll.”

“You’re not alone in this, Skywalker. I too think that this weapon is being used in haste. There has been no actual testing done to see what impact it would have on the environment of any world it was used on. As far I know, there is only simulation data.” Windu scratched his chin in thought. “Very well. You may have full access to her on my authority. I’d like your own opinion on the device.”

“Thank you, Master.”

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An entire hangar at the front of the ship had been secured for the bomb and its support equipment, of which there was a fair number. Just looking at all the scientific instruments and scanners, some of which were a quarter the size of a fighter, arrayed around the bomb, told me that Doctor Boll was still conducting SCIENCE! on her new creation.

Doctor Sionver Boll herself was bustling about from computer to computer with datapad in hand, occasionally talking to a member of her subordinate science team, who each was working at a computer or readout station.

She was a bivall; thin neck, narrow crescent head with orange tinted skin, her eyes were stilted forward, large, with golden irises. She was one of those species types which always left me feeling awkward, since her eyes were so wide apart, my own eyes struggled to decide naturally which one to focus on. Her form fitting white, off-green outfit did more to contribute to the uncanny valley feeling her body structure inspired, with a waist that was just that bit too narrow for my instincts. The last odd bit contributing to the picture was a full five fingered hand with opposable thumb.

“Master Jedi,” she greeted us, her voice a melodic echo-ey tenor. “Your authorization, please.”

Anakin gave me a pointed look and I handed over the datapad Master Windu had given us.

Boll looked over the electronic document for a quick five seconds, her eyes twitching in a manner that told me she was speed reading the entire thing.

“Very well,” she tapped the pad, powering it down and handing it back to me. “You’re cleared to be here.” She abruptly turned and went back to work among the machinery and devices of her field lab.

Anakin raised an eyebrow at the brush-off, but we could both sense that Boll had not done it out of rudeness. She was just that busy.

We followed her, being careful to avoid bumping or brushing into anything. She stopped in front of the bomb itself and picked up a datapad that was connected to it.

“Doctor Boll,” Anakin began pointedly. “My padawan and I are responsible for the battle that will take place on Malastare and the use of this weapon. We have some questions about it.”

“Then ask,” she said, tapping on the datapad and inputting numbers.

“Firstly, how did you arrive at the correct stator winding design around the hypermatter charge?” I asked wryly.

Boll blinked her large eyes and I could sense her surprise at the apt question. “That was the simulation work of hundreds of hours, combined with small scale lab tests on exposed droids and animals.”

“And your animals survived?”

“Naturally, otherwise we wouldn’t be here at all,” she explained.

“What about the scaling of the design to this size? No surprises there?” Anakin questioned.

“The math and simulations show no problems.”

“Environmentals?”

“I’m afraid I can’t be certain of that,” Boll’s shoulders dipped a bit. “I tried to have a full test detonation done, but I was overruled.”

“Why?”

“Republic Intelligence,” she said in answer, her wide mouth curling in a non-verbal expression that had to be something like disgust for her species. “They deemed the risk too high that intel of the bomb would leak to the CIS somehow. Even though we had a secure, classified planet for testing out in the middle of nowhere.”

Well, that was rather funny and ironic. Someone in RI was starting to see the trend. It was just such a pity that it would never lead to anything meaningful.

“Have you run any simulation based on Malastare’s environment conditions?” Anakin questioned next.

“That’s what most of my team is busy with at the moment,” Boll gestured to all the other eggheads. “The problem is that this kind of analysis, even with known data from Malastare… there’s just too many variables. Not to mention no guarantee that there isn’t something missing in the data sets. A solar flare from the local star, impacting Malastare ionosphere, messing with the magnetic field while this weapon detonates is just one example of something that could go wrong.”

“That would push the pulse flux into ranges that would interfere even with organics?” I questioned.

“Potentially, Padawan Tano,” she twitched her head.

“What made you decide to use diburnium for the dielectric structural jacket?” Anakin asked. Her answer ventured into territory that began to go way over my head and soon she and Anakin might as well have been speaking another language entirely. I only caught the meaning of every third word.

I pushed my senses into the Force and started looking at the electro-proton bomb with the eyes of technometry. For all that it was a very complex device, the principles were straightforward.

It was in old Earth parlance, an eBomb or Non-Nuclear electromagnetic pulse generation device. Though this device was really pushing the envelope on being described as non-nuclear. It had a crystalized hypermatter core with a stasis field keeping it stable, around that was wrapped an insulator block, then around that stator winding, along with a dielectric jacket, all encased in an armature tube.

That alone was the ‘core’, the business end of what produced the electro-proton effect. Everything further around it was antenna assemblies, ballast, power supply, batteries, computers, cooling and so on, all of it encased in a ballistic bomb faring and detonation sensors.

There were so many questions I’d like to ask Doctor Boll, but didn’t dare.

Such as why the weapon was surface detonation. Increase the altitude to just beyond the ‘Karman line’, the very debatable beginning of space, and you’d have an EMP effect that would stretch for hundreds of kilometers. Any ships nearby would also experience system failures if their shields were down.

It would dilute the EMP strength, but it would still be good enough to disable droids for a number of hours in the affected area.

The problem was that this bomb was just one side of a coin.

The Separatists had worked on the Defoliator Bomb - a weapon that only disintegrated organic matter.

Both of these weapons were now technically in the Republic hands - as Lok Durd, its designer, had vanished into a hole made by Republic Intelligence.

The Defoliator couldn’t propagate and be amplified with a high altitude detonation, but just the idea of amplifying that effect was not something I wanted to introduce into the head of anyone in this galaxy, least of all Darth Sidious.

Both weapons were tactical in scope, turning them into strategic weapons was nightmare fuel.

“When we reach Malastare orbit, we’re going to feed as much data from active sensors into our computer modeling. Hopefully, that’ll highlight any problems that might arise.”

“Doctor Boll, we both know that computers and simulation can only do so much. Even then, you’d need more time than we have before this weapon is going to be used.”

“Yes, but I’m only doing what I can with the situation and the resources available. In the end, Master Jedi, we’re all going to be effectively test subjects for this weapon.”

Anakin lifted his right arm and flexed the artificial fingers beneath the glove. “Guess I’ll have to look into what can be done to shield my arm then. Come along, Ahsoka, let’s leave the doctor to her work, we’ve taken enough of her time.”

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The relief fleet emerged at a random point above the north pole of Malastare beyond its mass shadow. This would normally be a very fuel inefficient spot for all its fighters and landing craft to deploy to the planet below, but emerging from hyperspace in any predictable spot was not a good idea in the current rapidly evolving paradigm of warfare.

The fleet had planned for this and as such the fuel bunkerage for support craft had been increased at the cost of reducing the max consumables of the Venators and Acclamators from two years to eighteen months. This technically made them more ‘dangerous’ to operate in the vastness of the galaxy, but it was a price well worth paying if it meant not being an easy target for a pinpoint strike out of hyper.

Mace Windu was overall commander of the operation, so would initially remain on the Triumph, whilst Anakin would ride down with the 501st and I would lead the fighter squadrons.

That was how I found myself with Wraith Squadron, screaming into the atmosphere with twenty other squadrons from the fleet on either flank.

It wouldn’t be ten minutes later that the fleet would launch another wave of nearly 252 fighters as an escort to the LAAT gunships which would be carrying companies from the 501st, 125th Legion and 32nd Assault Corps, including their AT-TEs.

The amount of military might that was being poured on Malastare was a sight to behold. My Z-95s fore and aft scopes were like two small snow globes with the amount of friendly fighters in space and around me. Unfortunately, the Z-95 was still in the minority, whilst Y-Wings, ARCs and Torrents made up the bulk of the fighters. It was yet another reminder that our battle with Procurement and the sheer inertia of the GAR was still ongoing.

We broke through the highest cloud layers of Malastare and the curvature of the planet vanished from our perspective.

This was a world of forest and rocky mountains, with very few and small oceans, covering barely thirty percent of the surface. The dugs had over the course of their civilization made a large impact on the forests of their world, harvesting the woods to such an extent that the deforestation was easily visible from space. It was only in the last few centuries that they woke up to the environmental consequences and began a long slow process of finding a happy medium. This was also greatly helped by the discovery of vast reserves of what was known to most of the galaxy simply as ‘Malastarian fuel’ in the planet. A very nasty, ‘naturally occurring’ chemical brew, formed beneath the surface that gave a nice performance boost to hypermatter reactors.

It became their primary export and now there was no need to chop down trees for fuel and the money was used to import all the other necessities that eventually made them a modern society and member of the Republic.

Master Windu’s voice crackled to life over the radio.

“Wraith Leader, we’ve detected a launch of enemy fighters coming from the planetary capital. Turning onto an intercept course with you.”

“Numbers?”

“300 Vultures, 204 Hyenas.”

“Typical droids,” I muttered disparagingly. “Roger that, command.” I switched frequencies to all the squadrons. “Wraith One, all wings, incoming enemy fighters. Accelerate to 950 KPH, we should be detecting them at extreme range in thirteen minutes.”

I received acknowledging signals from all squadrons on my secondary MFD.

The one thing about commanding so many fighters at once, was that traditional vocal orders and acknowledgments were completely impractical. That system still worked on an intra-squadron level, but for multi-squadron engagements a top down vocal and ‘digital’ command system was used.

“Okay, R3, begin filtering.”

The astromech whistled an affirmative and with a few button presses on my main MFD, the target scopes were cleaned up and would only show my own squadron and the enemy. The droid would also keep an eye for any friendly fighter from other squadrons and add them as necessary. Not that it was really necessary for my situational awareness thanks to the Force, but it was good to keep in practice.

I pushed my technometry senses forward and evaluated the enemy fighters.

There was no formation. As usual, it was just the typical ‘let’s Zerg’ fighters at the enemy. The only consideration to position they gave, was just to prevent mid-air collision between themselves.

Finally, extreme sensor range was reached and immediately all Republic fighters began sending hostile targeting emissions forward.

The enemy returned the favor and my MFD lit up with warnings.

R3 and every astromech riding behind every pilot, took command of their respective fighter’s ECM suites and began the initial electronic duel for supremacy.

Targeting locks were broken on my own fighter three times before R3 indicated a successful image recognition lock on four Hyenas that was directly opposite us on an intercept heading.

“Wraith One, all wings, clear to engage, fire!”

Airspace was filled with a mass launch of over five hundred concussion missiles that streaked forward, drawing blue white vaporous lines across the sky as they screamed through the air at over 1.3km per second.

The enemy managed to send a more muted response of three hundred missiles a few seconds later, as most astromechs were still foiling and spoiling targeting locks.

This only added to the sheer spectacle as I could imagine what this must look like from the ground. As if some great artist was sweeping electric blue-white brushstrokes across the sky.

Some of the enemy missiles were not targeting the Republic formation, instead going after the incoming missiles themselves.

It would take both sides missiles just over two minutes to reach their opponents.

R3 was already busy trying to jam the targeting scanners of three missiles that had locked on to me.

“All wings, loosen up!”

Every odd fighter among the Republic squadrons fell back, opening the range between wingmen to allow proper separations for evasive maneuvers.

“Wraith Two, status.”

“Two on me. Astro’s working on it.”

“Roger.”

R3 trilled in success as it spoofed one the enemy missiles so badly that it tried to make a flight correction that utterly over-G’d its frame, causing it to break apart and rain debris to the ground.

The two missiles remaining kept their locks and were less than a minute out.

Now I had to play a dangerous game. If I tried to go evasive too soon, it would be ineffective in creating a miss, too late and my shields would be eating a proton explosion.

At thirty seconds, I began jinking.

The Force showed me numerous paths and it took but a moment to choose.

My left foot jammed forward and I pulled hard over left on the control stick.

My fighter practically slid with its right ‘wing’ forward for a brief moment before I jammed the throttle to max. Creating as much transversal velocity between me and the incoming missiles.

This combined with R3 managing to throw a perfectly calibrated jam, caused the second missile to veer off course, giving me the opportunity to abruptly slew my fighter’s nose around and I triggered my guns.

This sent a stream of cannon fire forward at a deflection angle which the missile ran straight into.

R3 triggered gravitic chaff in the next moment before I could even react which was enough to spoil the last missile, generating a miss.

If this had been old Earth, I could’ve celebrated and written off that missile, but this was the Corusca galaxy. Missiles could endure and pull maneuvers to stay doggedly on their target’s tail. As this missile did, when it pulled a full turn to try come right up on my ‘tailpipe’.

I flung my fighter around, dialing the inertials to full, and shutting down my forward thrust entirely. This would’ve been entirely unnecessary if the Z-95 just had a bloody turreted cannon, but that was still something that was on my wishlist and in the hands of the Incom and Subpro engineers to figure out.

My cannons sent a stream of low power shots forward as I slid ‘backward’ through the air, destroying the last missile.

Similar yet less spectacular dances with death had occurred throughout the Republic squadrons.

A quick glance down told me I had lost 53 fighters in the onslaught, as I swung my fighter back into a normal flight configuration.

The Republic missiles streaked into the mass of enemy droid fighters barely a second later.

268 missiles had made it through the Separatist ECM and other defensive measures.

The airspace began to be littered with staccato explosions as the missiles detonated to send hammerblows of proton particles smashing into the mass of flying droids.

Vulture and Hyena droids began falling out of the sky to crash into mountains and forests below, most were in large pieces, some had sustained enough damage that they were just not flightworthy anymore and steadily succumbed to gravity’s pull.

Onboard munitions began detonating in the air or on the ground as they crashed, wrecking trees and turning most to splinters.

I winced as my prescience began showing me how the consequences would play out for some of the dugs living down there; crushed in a landslide caused by an exploding fighter droid, an ARC’s crash causing a forest fire. I fell back to my metaphysical anchor in the present and narrowed my focus. Getting distracted by this would be the death of me.

234 enemy fighters were now streaking towards the surviving Republic fighters. The missiles had done their job, the odds were more even at least.

“Wraith One to all wings, pick your targets, may the Force be with all of you.”

I tapped my MFD, selecting five droid fighters. The astromechs were all on a secure tac-net and the target designations were shared and displayed to all fighters. Within two seconds every enemy contact had a red designator, indicating that a clone pilot had ‘claimed’ it for their attack.

Three Vultures and two Hyenas was my selection.

I snap launched three missiles to play crowd control and triggered my cannons for two seconds before having to jink and evade fire from two Vultures trying to bracket me.

My deflection fire caught one of my targets, walking multiple shots straight down the central fuselage of the fighter, coring its droid brain and the stresses sheared apart the fighter - causing both nacelles to spin wildly out of control.

One fell harmlessly to the side, but a pin point Force Push from me gave the other nacelle just enough deflection for its spin to carry it towards another Vulture droid passing by starboard. The nacelle smashed into its side, wrecking its own starboard repulsors and flight surfaces, a munition cooked off from the damage and the explosion finished it off.

The ability to ‘offensively’ use the Force while in the cockpit of a fighter, as opposed to just using it passively was something of a brainwave that really should’ve come to me earlier. Yes, it was bloody difficult, considering the focus and concentration required to just fly a fighter in combat, but it was doable.

My three missiles were still trying to find their targets when I joined in the hunt, doing an Immelmann turn to get on the tail of one of the Hyena bombers and triggering my cannons.

A stream of shots was streamed right into the path of the bomber as it tried to jink to port to avoid the missile.

It exploded in a brilliant fireball of fuel and debris.

My shields flashed as they had to push aside some high velocity bits and pieces.

R3 rather amazingly managed to jink the missile under his control to avoid the worst of it, sending it to join the hunt for the remaining Vulture droid.

The two missiles twisted and hounded the droid fighter, allowing me to climb high above it, then swoop down, converting altitude to speed. It brought me in range for an easy cannon shot that sent the droid tumbling to the earth below in fiery pieces.

An opportunistic Vulture droid swooped in from below and I had to jink left, rolling my fighter ninety degrees to avoid the enemy fighter trying to both shoot and kamikaze me.

R3 gave an angry squawk as he sent our two missiles racing after it, whilst our third original missile finally managed to kill another of my assigned targets.

I finished the roll to a full 180 and now upside down, pushed the control stick forward to do an inverted climb.

My finger mashed the firing stud with a bit of anger as blaster cannon fire lanced upward trying to kill the Vulture droid.

R3 beat me to the punch and both missiles bracketed the enemy, exploding in proximity and turning it into alclad alloy scrap and flame that immediately plummeted to the earth below.

Now that my targets were gone and I was under no immediate threat, I scanned and spotted Wraith Two.

He was still alive, having scored two kills, but was now being chased by two Vultures who were trying to box him in.

“Wraith Two, hard right on my mark.” I ordered as pushed my throttle to ‘boost’ and dived to get my airspeed over 1300 kmh. Closing the distance to the dogfight rapidly.

“Roger, One,” I could sense his palpable relief.

I fell behind the tail of one Vulture trying to line its guns up for a shot.

“Mark!”

Wraith Two’s Z-95, abruptly rolled right and using repulsor vectoring shot himself out of the way. The Vulture twisted right to follow and I triggered my cannons to slash directly into the space it was flying into.

It was blasted to pieces when my shots sheared off the right nacelle and something cooked off.

Wraith Two turned back immediately, sending blaster cannon fire at the second Vulture and scoring a kill.

“Thanks for that Wraith One.”

“You’re welcome Two, form up and let's go hunting.”

A quick look at my squadron display and from what I was sensing, told me that 157 further enemy fighter droids had been shot down in the massive dogfight and that my own squadrons had lost 53 more craft.

I hated these kinds of battles.

“Easy Wraith One, we’re on our way,” Anakin’s voice suddenly broke into our frequency.

R3 updated my scans and our second wave, with Torrents and Z-95s escorting the LAAT gunships entered weapons range and began firing a new salvo of missiles at the remaining enemy, which began to swat them out of the sky all around us.

“Right on time, Master,” I smirked, feeling relief yet it was tempered by all the red flashing at me from the squadron's master status display.

The skies above the capital of the planet were won.

Now we had to make sure it stayed that way as the ground pounders landed.

The cloud cover was sparse enough and I could see as the LAATs sped past us and began their descent to the city outskirts.

It was a city that was already experiencing the tumult of battle, as the local dug population began fighting back.

Columns of smoke began rising at numerous points and the occasional red and green blaster bolt shooting randomly outward from the various firefights happening, as the dugs began fighting against the occupying CIS droids.

The battle for the Malastare capital city of Pixelito had begun.

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I loved flying.

There were times however, when it was a cruel mistress.

The next six hours was spent in the cockpit of my Z-95, marshaling the air support for the ground battle.

I had not a single missile left and was directing the Y-Wings and ARCs to respond to calls for air support from the clones on the ground.

I could still strafe CIS tanks and B2s on the ground with blaster cannon fire, but to do so left me far too vulnerable to the B2 rocket droid variant.

So most of the time, I had to be content with endlessly circling around the city and directing target acquisitions to various flight squadrons.

Anakin was as usual in the thick of things on the ground with the 501st and I could occasionally take a peek through our bond to get a remote sense of the battles.

He knew when I did so, naturally, then I would get the emotional and mental equivalent of a finger-wagging, chiding me.

Finally, the fuel on my fighter began to run low but I didn’t have to make the trip to orbit, as Resolute was holding station a mere ten minutes from the city, hovering ominously just a kilometer above the ground.

Then there was the usual post-mission duties; making sure the technical side of the squadron was handled and the debrief after landing. After nearly two hours of this I could somewhat call an end to my day, grabbed something from the mess to eat and headed back to the bridge with the biggest mug of caf in hand.

My restlessness had me unable to even think about going to bed, not while Anakin was on the ground with the 501st, so I headed to the tactical holotable at the rear of the bridge where a gaggle of clone techs were seated and coordinating the legion’s communications and movements.

There were currently sixteen companies, including their attached AT-TEs moving their way steadily through the western districts Pixelito. Each company was represented by a delta symbol on the holographic grid and the view could be zoomed in to represent squads and even down to the individual soldier. Each time contact was made to the enemy, a delta would flash red and the tech would listen in on squad frequencies and various tactical scanners to determine just what enemy type was being faced - then place an appropriate circular symbol to represent a B1 droid or Persuader tank and so on.

My comlink beeped for my attention and my sense for who was on the other side had me looking to the front of the bridge. “Commander Tano, Yularen here. Incoming communication from… a General Lgobadu of the 3rd Lighthand Division.”

That was dug name… Ah, the division of dug infantry that was supposed to link up with the 501st.

“Put him through.”

I held up my palm and the holoform of an armored dug appeared in it.

Dugs were one of those species of the galaxy that had a truly alien gait, technically having only ‘hands’ with a unique limb arrangement, using one pair to stand on, while the other was generally up and hung in the air in front of their main bodies. Their faces had elongated snouts, with tendrils that grew from it, giving the appearance of fleshy floppy whiskers. Their eyes were set in their facial structure that gave them a permanent ‘sinister’ appearance. The pupils reminded me of an old Terran cat, almost, which just added to the effect.

“General Lgobadu,” I greeted the dug with a slight bow of the head. “What can I do for you?”

The dug narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re Commander Tano?”

“Yes.”

He blinked a bit and his ‘shoulders’ twitched, and I sensed he was ‘shaking off’ his disbelief. “Right, I’m calling because I’m trying to get a hold of General Skywalker. He was on comms with me and we made sure things were coordinated amongst our troops, but now whenever I try to raise him I get no reply.”

“That is worrying,” I said even as I was pinging my bond with Anakin and pushing my awareness along it. Then tapped a clone tech on the shoulder in front of me, “General Skywalker’s position.”

The specific portion of the holotank the tech was working with zoomed in and it visually told the story even as I began to get impressions of Anakin’s surroundings and his wry disgruntled thoughts.

“Ah, I see the problem. General Skywalker is underground in the city’s sewerage system at the moment. Reception might be an issue down there.”

“What in Striar’s name is he doing down there?”

“It seems that the CIS war droids have taken to using them. It’s not like they care about the smell or the moisture down there.”

The dug hit himself so hard with his left ‘hand’ that I thought he was trying to give himself a concussion. “The sewers! Of course! Stupid idiot! So that’s how those metal bastards flanked us… Thank you, commander. Lgobadu out!”

The dug general’s holo winked out.

I pushed my thoughts along the bond and while my face was perfectly neutral and serene, there was no hiding my amusement.

“Having fun, Skyguy?”

Anakin was busy wading through knee high sewer water, lit lightsaber whirling, deflecting blaster bolts and filleting B1s and crab droids, all the while Rex and a squad of clone troopers backed him up, firing into the enemy.

“Oh sure. Fighting droids in dug dung, it’s a party down here, Snips.”

“Aren’t you glad you’re in that armor now? Imagine having to fight down there in your usual outfit.”

“I don’t want to imagine,” he declared wryly, as he levitated his lightsaber into a swirling fan of death in front of him as a group of commando droids sprung up from the water. “Perhaps you’d care to join me down here?”

Technically, he could order me to do that. An hour of Jedi rejuvenative mediation and I’d technically be fit as a fiddle and able to go. He wouldn’t though. I was the Aerospace Group Commander for the overall operation and I couldn’t go ground pounding.

“Thanks Skyguy, but I think I’ll pass on that one. How long do you think you’ll keep going yourself?”

“I can keep going, but my troops, not much longer. We’re going to be relieved in an hour and get back to field HQ.”

“How many?”

He knew what I was asking.

“Twenty percent casualties roughly, most should make it, but the deaths are starting to creep up, especially in this city fighting. Our AT-TE losses are also an issue, considering we need them to counter Persuaders efficiently.”

Urban fighting was the worst form of warfare, at least in my opinion. So many nooks, corners, doors, buildings large and small, all of which the enemy could be hiding in and behind. Even the ground below you wasn’t ‘safe’. The only blessing I could count on was that the capital city would be the only place we would truly fight for on this campaign.

Somehow the dugs had determined a patterned weakness in the tactical decision matrices of common CIS tactical droids. How they had arrived at this weakness they would not share at all. Anakin theorized that they may have been canny enough to capture a tac droid intact without its usual internal ‘software scrambling’ features going off.

I was willing to bet that quite a few Republic Intel operatives embedded in the fleet were making sneaky plans to try to suss out where this captured droid was.

The end result was that the dugs had gone to the Jedi Council with a fairly comprehensive battle plan that would cause the tac droids to make a predictable decision path in how they would respond and deploy their forces.

The first step was to push them out of the capital, yet leave any other city on the planet which had droid occupation alone.

Prescience at least told me that the dugs weren’t being less than truthful. Their plan would work in forcing a decisive battle.

Now if only the butcher’s bill wouldn’t be so high for it.

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In the end it took three days of high intensity fighting to recapture Pixelito. Three days where I spent most of it flying overhead with Wraith Squadron for eight hour stints, even making the brief transition to Y-Wings so we could drop guided bombs on droid positions in the city. It made a mess of the roads and a number of buildings, but the dugs made no complaints about collateral damage.

They just wanted the CIS ‘mechanical infestation’ off their planet and were willing to pay any price for achieving that aim. Such as allowing an experimental weapon of mass destruction to be used on their home.

It had been rather disconcerting to see the eager light in their eyes when they were briefed by Doctor Boll.

Personally, while I found anything that could make a big explosion right in my ballpark, I couldn’t help but wish that the Electro-Proton bomb would’ve been even more useful, if it had worked in space.

It would’ve been like firing a literal ‘off switch’ at CIS Navy ships, then allowed us to easily board and take control.

Alas, it would not be so easy. All the data showed that modern shielding would easily shrug off the radiant EM proton effect. It would give a massive initial drain on shield strength due to the initial explosion, but that was just slightly better than a standard torpedo.

About the only use case I could conceive was if we had to ever actually capture a CIS Navy capital ship. Batter down the shields conventionally, then fire an Electro-Proton bomb to detonate near the hull. It would obviate the need for using boarding parties and fighting conventionally to kill all the droids on board.

The further issue with the strategy was I had no idea how ravaged the captured ship’s computer systems would be and how easy it would be to repair.

The only bright side of the last three days was General Lgobadu’s visit to the Resolute.

“Hmm, impressive ship you have here, Commander,” he declared as we walked back towards the hangar bay after I had given him an abbreviated tour.

“Thank you General, we’re proud of her and she’s seen us through some tough scrapes over the course of the war so far,” I smiled at the thought. Resolute was essentially now the ‘hero ship’, if I had to put it in the gaming terms of another life.

“You and I both know that it’s those aboard that make the ship,” the dug general raised a pointed muscular finger as he spoke. “The men of this ship have fought and died alongside my dugs. They fought with grit, skill and valor, something I never imagined that would come from cloned humans born from an artificial womb.”

“I’m glad that you kept an open mind about them, general,” I said carefully.

“We’ve spilled our blood together on the soil of Malastare, commander. You personally helped to scour the skies clean of my world. For that I thank you, you and your master will always be welcome here,” he said raspingly and with strong emotion that I clearly sensed, including his deep conviction.

“Thank you, general,” I said with a slight bow of my head, but something in his tone prompted my next question. “I take it that this recognition is something that the Dug Council is not officially endorsing?”

“Yes, Padawan Tano,” his snout sniffed slightly and a half-grin formed on his face. “The Doge and the Dug Council will make the usual platitudes and let the Republic give you medals and accolades when we succeed. Just know that you have friends here now.”

I was rather unsure what Lgobadu was getting at or why he and the dugs were seemingly giving this unofficial ‘key to the city’ type of thing to Anakin and I.

I understood it on one level. I was a Mandalorian Jedi, bonds of honor and blood in battle, band of brothers etc.

Yet he was hinting at something more.

All I knew at this moment, we had another ally to call on in need, irrespective of politics.

There was only one response that I could reasonably make, deductions and reasoning could come later.

“Then I am very glad to make another friend, General.”

“Bah, you can call me Dedu in an informal setting.” He waved away my formality. “Now let’s hurry up and get me back to the surface. We’ve got droids to kill.”

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A/N: Yay, first chapter for the new year and start of a new arc. Hope you enjoyed.