The Force Wills - Chapter 40 (Patreon)

There were times that this galaxy just loved to baffle me.

From Condordia’s gravity, Naboo’s plasma and dozens of other astrophysical phenomena that were either Celestial shenanigans or an unknown, high level Kardashev civilization playing around, the Corusca galaxy could throw them at you without warning every time you jumped out of hyper.

Then there were the anachronisms that I alone could perceive.

I was now standing on the observation platform perched on the highest level of a dug fortress, set on a mountain range that guarded the eastern route into Pixelito. It was a structure that was absolutely massive and ancient, that reminded me of a differently spun, alien Minas Tirith of Gondor. Beyond the fortress was a massive valley that was so large, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was just a flat plain, until you turned your head and squinted.

Walk just fifteen kilometers beyond the gates of this fortress and you’d see something that rightfully belonged in the era of the Napoleonic Wars.

Old Napoleon’s armies couldn’t dream of marching so perfectly as the war droids of the CIS.

Marching forward in perfect blocks of nine by eight, were two massive lines of B1s, spaced a kilometer apart.

B2 super battle droids marched along the perimeter of the blocks, including Rocket droid versions.

Then in a line of eight, dividing the blocks were spider droids.

Each block formation was supported by three AAT battle tanks, acting as mobile artillery.

In total we were looking at an army of over ten thousand droids marching directly towards the fortress to retake the city.

Detailed scans from orbit showed it was most likely every CIS droid left on the planet, all congregated into this push. The problem was we couldn’t be sure of that fact. There could still be holdout cells of droids hiding themselves in the many, many caves of Malastare. The CIS had been in control of the planet long enough for them to arrange many boltholes with independent power sources inside them which could last for months or even years.

Anakin gave me a look as he lowered his macrobinoculars from surveying the battlefield. He was clearly troubled.

“This shouldn’t have worked, Snips,” he thought to me.

“Agreed, but it clearly has.”

Somehow the liberation of Pixeleto, including the near total destruction of the CIS aerospace component, had caused every war droid company remaining on the planet to uproot and form into this singular force that was marching on the city, with the full intent to retake it.

Every experience we had with tactical droids thus far in the war, told us that the moment they lost orbital and aerospace supremacy, the first thing they did was to consolidate and hold their positions. If they were further driven from a strategic ‘center of gravity’, such as the capital of a world, they would scatter and disperse, taking over power generation centers and acting like a mechanical disease you have to painstakingly destroy and cut out of the power grids.

Yet here on Malastare, with the strategy given to us by the dugs, it had resulted in a second consolidation behavior. If this had been an organic army, it would’ve made more sense. Though that depended on the army and species. This was like the droids had ‘united’ to make a final stand. Offering a singular decisive battle for the fate of Malastare.

Only that was also incorrect. This was not a decisive battle.

Even if that droid army won this battle, they had not won the aerospace war. The Venators could launch a full air strike that would easily obliterate the droid army; there weren’t enough B2 Rocket droids to contest the amount of starfighters and Y-Wings that could rain down utter destruction on this army. That was precisely why tactical droids dispersed the forces under their command.

Yet the dugs were clearly convinced that they had the tactical droids ‘figured out’ and could manipulate their decision making by applying the correct tactics. Even if this was the case, if these were the new hyperspace linked tactical droids - then it shouldn’t work. These droids would then be getting their orders from CIS high command.

No, the old saying went, that if something was too good to be true, then it usually was.

Whatever the dugs thought they had, it was something that they were being led into believing.

If they had an active captured tac droid and were mining it for both information and programming, there was no doubt in my mind that the CIS knew. Dooku was personally involved in this, because his master was personally involved.

I gave an idle glance to the side. Palpatine’s full body holo was being projected from a mobile platform as he looked over the massive valley. Mace Windu and Doctor Boll were next to the holoform, as was the leader of the Dug Council, Nakha Urus, so I had a ready excuse to look.

It meant though that I could not even thoughtspeak my conclusion that this entire ‘final battle’ was just a fancy live stage to allow Sidious to test the Electro-proton bomb.

Of course, the GAR had to play its part in the test, therefore the 2nd Regiment of the 501st Clone Legion and three full squads of AT-TEs and RX-200 Falchion Assault Tanks were being sent forward to battle with the enemy. It was nice that we at last had the opportunity to field the big Falchions, as time and terrain constraints usually prevented the 28 meter long tanks from being deployed. Their NNJ-40 long range ion cannons were utterly devastating direct fire artillery and anti-starship weapons when fired in a coordinated battery.

Alongside them were the remnants of the dug militia, numbering about a thousand and their large artillery style rail guns that were mounted on tracks. They were a nice pleasant surprise, as they were not the ridiculous ‘rail slings’ that threw ‘discs’ from my old memories. They were more akin to a dug version of the old M110 self-propelled howitzer, but using rail gun principles. Neatly filling in for our indirect fire role so we didn’t have to unpack our SPHA-T walkers.

Of course, neither Anakin or I were going to send 2300 men of the 501st and the dugs onto that flat battlefield with no proper cover.

The AT-TEs and Falchions would act as initial cover to get them forward into firing range but then…

“This had better work,” grumbled Urus, the dug leader turned his head to glare at Palpatine’s holo. “Our technicians indicate that the Separatists will quickly adapt their tactical droids to remove our exploit. We only get this one chance.”

“I assure you, Doge Urus, that it will,” Palpatine said confidently. “Doctor Boll’s design and all her tests indicate that only droids will be affected.”

“The clones and your people will be quite safe, we have accounted for every variable possible within the timeframe. At this point we can only move forward,” Boll said, trying to reassure but the exhaustion was palpable in her voice.

“It’s the improbable that concerns me, doctor. A conventional mass air strike can also do the job,” Windu pointed out.

“We must look beyond this battle, Master Windu,” Palpatine shook his head. “If this weapon works, it’ll be a significant step towards victory on a hundred future battlefields where we might not enjoy such aerospace dominance. Not to mention significantly reduce the cost in men and equipment lost.”

“The droids are approaching firing range point alpha,” Anakin pointed out.

Windu folded his arms and surveyed the battlefield one last time. “Very well. The command is given.”

Anakin nodded and tapped his comlink, “All commands, mark.”

In the next second several things happened all at once.

Fifty meters in front of the advancing Republic line a series of explosions rent the earth, sending geysers of dust and gravel upward.

Then with muted pops, all along the new no-man’s land between the two armies of organic and metal, buried generators began spewing torrents of white billowing smoke into the air, which began to settle on the battlefield. This was no ordinary smoke though, but was also laced with particulates that would temporarily foul scanners and droid visual sensors.

The droids, about to open fire, found not a single target to engage.

The clones on the absolute front brought forth energized durasteel shields, roughly 80cm wide and 1.2 meters tall, and slammed them into the ground. Creating mobile cover that could easily stop anything short of a direct hit by an AAT.

The AT-TE’s and Dug railgun tanks, having expected the event, had already ranged and targeted their guns. They opened fire straight through the smoke cloud.

Scores of droid AATs began dying and great gaps opened in droid formations as explosive shells began landing among them.

The tactical droids swiftly processed the unexpected event and quickly instructed every droid to level their weapons and open fire en-masse anyway.

The clones ducked behind their cover and weathered the storm of fire. The tallest dugs barely reached 1.1 meters, so didn’t even have to bother. They raised their blaster rifles with their forehands, poking them over the shield wall and started firing.

The battlefield was now swiftly transformed into a bright technicolor chaotic mess as blue, green and red flashes and bolts of plasma criss crossed through the air.

Droid ‘deaths’ began to rapidly mount, whilst the only organic casualties were unlucky hits to the head or arms as clones tried to fire over the shield wall.

A number of AT-TEs were also unluckily hit by AAT fire through the smoke screen.

Tac droids deployed the few squads of Vulture droids that were awkwardly walking in the rear of the droid army.

The Falchions spotted them immediately and raised their guns into the air.

Streams of coherent white ions seemed to draw infinite lines into the sky. They initially missed but it was easily corrected as the NNJ-40 had a beam collimator and could rapidly shift aim without having to move the entire gun.

The Vulture droids were slashed out of the air and unfortunately a number of them ended up crashing directly into Republic lines, taking out both tanks and men.

The smoke screen began to fade and ever more accurate fire was achieved by both sides.

A further minute passed, allowing the droid army to advance forward. The no man’s land between both sides was steadily shrinking. Droid numbers were steadily whittled down by the dozen with every second that passed. Republic AT-TEs and the dug artillery were also suffering casualties.

“That’s enough of that, they’re committed,” Anakin declared. “All squadrons go!”

A squadron of Y-Wings emerged from the narrow hangar of the dug fortress, swiftly speeding into the air and over the battlefield.

Four full squadrons of Z-95s dived out of their high altitude circling of the battlefield and swooped down.

Under the belly of a single Y-Wing, the Electro-Proton Bomb was cradled.

The enemy did not let the aerospace launch go uncontested and launched the remaining Vulture droid reserves. The AAT tanks raised their own guns to the highest elevation they could and opened fire on the incoming fighters.

Z-95s launched their missiles and barely four seconds later, nearly twenty AATs were left a smoldering ruin of wreckage and dozens of Vulture droids fell out of the sky.

The gap was opened and the Y-Wings climbed to the optimal release altitude.

The clone pilot steadied his craft, tapped his control boards and his astromech beeped encouragingly at him.

“Bombs away.” His forefinger jammed the pickle button on his flight stick.

The bomb detached and its aero surfaces caught on the air and began a guided dive.

Every fighter immediately angled away and hit their overthrottles, burning away at their maximum rated atmo speeds.

The bomb angled itself naturally nose down, angling the spear-like tip containing the sensors that monitored altitude, air pressure and a dozen other readouts.

Gravity pulled it down ever faster until it reached its terminal velocity.

It barely enjoyed a few seconds of this until it reached its target; the central formation of B2 droids at the heart of the droid army.

This was not a nuclear explosion so there was no need to look away. The flash of the core explosion was considerable nevertheless.

Day was turned slightly brighter as a massive explosion nearly half a kilometer across erupted on the valley plain.

An entire droid column was instantly incinerated into their constituent atoms and the thermal and concussive overpressure radiated immediately outward, kicking up a cloud of expanding dust with the shockwave.

As with these explosions, it was so strange to only see it and not yet hear it. Nevertheless, I had my helmet on to protect my sensitive montrals from the incoming sound.

The thermal front kept expanding, knocking over droids and tanks like bowling pins and flinging them into the air.

It reached a full 1.5km diameter of utter devastation in my estimation before it abruptly stopped and seemed to reach a new stage…

Another muted flash and the thermal energy condensed, while the overpressure continued outward.

Then an utterly white ball of energy appeared, haloed with a crackling blue disc of energy.

It seemed to hover in the air for a moment, as if a great titan was pulling in its breath.

Then at the speed of light, the bubble burst and vanished.

The concussive overpressure reached us at last, but the awful burst of sound was a footnote compared to the effect that was visible.

Every single droid, from the lowliest B1 to the largest spider tank on the battlefield began to spark, seize and twitch.

Everything mechanical in the valley began to suffer the same fate, including Republic tanks - the difference being that every piece of machinery and computer the GAR used had been powered down before the bomb had dropped.

Anything with a metallic surface also began arcing with sparks.

Palpatine’s holo crackled and vanished abruptly, its emitter shooting out baleful sparks and smoke.

Anakin’s right arm crackled with ionization and he had to hold it fast with his left hand to control its twitching.

My own armor’s systems were also powered down, so it suffered no ill effect, but my lightsabers had some arcing briefly, until I patted the hilts.

Then just as quickly it was all over and an eerie silence settled on the battlefield.

I pulled off my helmet and my nose was picking up the smell of ozone.

The sheer lack of sound was startling to my montrals and it was giving me something similar to human tinnitus.

Dust began to settle but a slight wind began pulling it across the valley, while everywhere the inactive chassis of war droids that had been bursting with energy, movement, light and death, was simply collapsed on the valley floor.

It was an utterly surreal moment that I would forever remember.

Anakin, Windu and Doctor Boll simply kept staring into the valley, practically stupefied at the silent spectacle.

Then the clones began to move, standing straight up to look in amazement at the sea of dead droids before them. Something that normally would’ve been paid for with the blood of hundreds or thousands of clones, was now done with a single air dropped bomb.

The first true sound that echoed in the valley was the cry of victory from a single dug soldier, which was soon joined by every dug soldier raising their voices in triumph.

“Well, doc, it looks like it worked,” Anakin smirked at Doctor Boll with satisfaction.

“Remarkable,” she breathed in amazement. “Our simulations were near spot on.”

In that instant a circular deformation occurred right over ground zero. A large section simply sunk instantly over ten meters and fell into a seemingly new chasm below.

I turned on my armor’s systems and tapped the comlink. “All commands, retreat!”

A truly gigantic geyser of earth and rock shot into the sky and soon the ceiling of what had been the mother of all underground caves began collapsing.

Now whether anyone survived would depend on whether they had followed procedure or not. If they had turned their equipment and radios back on, or not.

Thankfully, the sinkhole’s first victims were the dead droids, swallowing and gobbling them all up as the surface of the valley just vanished down into the crushing depths of falling rubble and earth.

Three AT-TE’s were swallowed by the collapsing earth and I could see the tiny figures of dugs and troopers sprinting to safety as fast as their limbs could carry them. There was no outrunning this though and in just moments an entire company of clones and dugs fell to their deaths.

Finally, though it all happened in less than ten seconds, it was over.

A large section of the valley below, stretching for more than two kilometers across, was now replaced with a yawning chasm, out of which a fine dust cloud stretched high into the sky.

I keyed my comlink, “Tano to Resolute, emergency SR scramble. I want five gunships with rescue loadouts to the battlefield immediately!”

“At once, commander,” Yularen replied and cut the link.

“Doctor Boll, the bomb causing a sinkhole wasn’t an idea that occurred to you?” I asked pointedly.

The bivall scientist was still rather stupefied at everything, but seemed to regain some of her wits at my question. “No, I- I didn’t… It’s… I was so worried about its potential effect on the atmosphere and people…”

“It’s all right, doctor. Few ever think of the solid ground beneath them as being not so solid.”

I had lived for years in a dolomite area in my old life. Nothing quite drove home the fact that at some point nature might decide to open a trapdoor under your feet and kill you, than when a section of a school building was suddenly subsumed into the earth below. Thankfully, it happened during the holidays and no one was hurt.

Of course, this gigantic sinkhole wasn’t due to dolomite erosion. I had no problem imagining what the cause of this was.

“Doge Urus, there was a fuel mining operation in this valley, I assume?” I queried the dug leader pointedly.

“Centuries ago,” he answered with a bob of his entire body. “It was one of the first ever discovered and the reason Pixelito is where it is today.”

“Leaving a great void below, the groundwater and overhead rainfall filled in the gap and steadily worked away at the ceiling of the chasm. It probably had another fifty years or so of stability, until the bomb’s shockwave came along.”

“We can leave the geoscience for later,” declared Windu. “We must get the fortress system’s reactivated and brief the Council, now.”

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The command center of the fortress was a rather small affair and located deep in the heart of the facility. It was not small by the standards of the dugs though and the holotank was a larger flat model that was almost flush with the floor.

Most computer systems in the fortress had needed a bit of troubleshooting but everything was restored within an hour and a few hard reboots. Coruscan tech in general when it came to IT was rather absurdly robust, but point blank EMP would still wreak havoc on it. The only true tech casualty was the holoprojector and redundant net connection that Palpatine had been using, which was a total write-off and destined for recycling.

The Chancellor’s holo was back now and everyone in the command structure was assembled around the holotank.

“Ah, Master Windu, good to see everyone is safe and sound. What do you have to report?”

“The droid army was completely neutralized by the bomb, but the blast created a sinkhole which engulfed a fair number of troopers and dugs. There are search parties looking for them now.”

The holo flickered with a large rendering of the sinkhole in question.

“That is very good news, Master Jedi. Doge Urus, are you ready to ratify the treaty?”

The dug leader shook his head, “Chancellor, the fuel can only flow again by a majority decision from the Dug Council.”

“The Republic fleets needs access to that fuel if it’s going to hold the line and keep the Separatists out of Malastare, Doge Urus,” Palpatine said as if he was discussing the weather.

“I will do my best to convince them of the urgency, Chancellor.”

Palpatine simply nodded with a gracious smile and his holo distorted and winked out.

“Generals, a report from the front,” Rex stated after tapping his helmet. “They’ve lost contact with a rescue team in the sinkhole.”

Windu sighed in weariness, “One problem always seems to replace another.”

That problem was slowly beginning to become apparent to my senses, not only in terms of prescience and my old life memories, but I was also slowly beginning to register it in other ways. It was incredibly subtle for something that was nearly a 100 meters tall and had to use so much energy just to be alive and move. How Master Windu wasn’t sensing it I had no idea. Either he was too distracted and focusing on the military campaign…

“Masters, we need to go. R2 come along, we’ll need you. Rex, I want every rescue team out of that crater, now.”

The clone captain briefly looked at me before nodding and tapping his radio.

“Uh, Snips, hey wait…”

My feet were already carrying me out the door and headed towards the fortress hangars where gunships would be waiting.

I sensed both Anakin and Windu briefly pausing before both hurried after me.

The instant I was in the hangar, I waved at a gunship pilot,  “LT, start ‘er up.”

“Yes, commander.”

The side doors of the LAAT opened and I hopped on as the engines started whining to life.

Anakin, Windu, Rex and R2 all soon followed. I sensed curiosity, concern and a bit of irritation at my presumption from Windu.

“Oh boy, I know that look,” Anakin smirked at me. “What is it, Ahsoka?”

I just gave him an irritated half-glare at how well he knew me. He didn’t even need to poke our bond at all for this insight.

“If Master Yoda was here, he’d be smacking your shins with his gimer stick,” I groused. “Pilot, take us to the crater edge. Keep the side doors open.”

The gunship lifted off, the outside world turned to a brief blur and then we were flying through the air and gaining altitude.

“Our bomb did more than create a sinkhole. It destroyed the ‘ceiling’ of the dwelling of a being that I’ve started to sense. It was asleep… now no longer.  That’s the reason we have a missing rescue team.”

Windu frowned at me for a moment then closed his eyes. The Force rippled and pulsed as he pushed his own senses outward. Then after a few moments… “I think I see it, padawan. It’s… You’re correct, Yoda should smack me on the shin for missing that.”

Anakin followed suit and eventually said, “Well, that’s something you don’t see every day.”

“Uh, Generals, commander, what is going on?” Rex asked and while he was perfectly professional in his tone, I could sense his frustration at us.

“It’s as I said, Rex. The bomb disturbed a creature. It was most likely hibernating to save on energy and it woke up… and is now very hungry,” I explained with a wince. “That is most likely why the rescue team is missing.”

“Are you saying this thing ate them, commander?”

“It’s a possibility, Rex. There’s also the matter of its size.”

“How big is it?”

“Let me put it this way, it could treat a rancor as a cute toy and would send a fully grown krayt dragon running for the hills in fear.”

The gunship began to slow down, then flared for a touchdown about ten meters from the lip of the sinkhole.

We hopped off, then walked carefully to the edge and looked down into the yawning void below. It was now mid afternoon local time and the sun was throwing a large part of the vast sinkhole into shadow. The still lingering fine dust also served to obscure any significant view of the bottom. Even if these impediments weren’t there, the jagged nature of the sinkhole’s new surface would serve to let anything hide.

“Rex, what’s the status of the rescue teams?” Anakin asked.

“All are out except for two, they’ve found an AT-TE crew alive down there but they’re trapped inside. They’re working to cut them out now.”

“Skywalker, come with me, we’ll go in and help speed things up. Padawan, speak to Doge Urus, get them to sign the treaty.” Windu turned and rushed back to the gunship with Anakin in tow.

Its deep, throaty engines whined up, it shot briefly into the sky before going nose down and descending into the yawning abyss.

I really hope those two didn’t become snacks for that creature. Though a lightsaber on the inside of its mouth might be able to do some significant damage. Anyone doing that though would need to be encased in beskar armor to have any hope of surviving long enough to do even that.

“Rex, how many Falchions do we have at hand?”

“One and a half squadrons are fully operational, commander.”

“Contact Resolute, I think we’re going to need at least another full squadron down here if we’re going to take on something as big as this. In the meantime, I’m going to play politics.”

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“I hope your bomb didn’t disturb the delicate balance of our planet, commander.”

Doge Urus and three members of their executive council stood before me and we were a mere kilometer away from the crater.

“If there are any problems that develop, the Republic will provide all possible assistance to Malastare to alleviate and address them,” I said with a confident, mild smile, blossoming my Force presence and infusing my words with it. “That being said, how long will it take for the treaty to be ratified? The CIS are not going to wait on us to be ready for them. Now that the planet is liberated, their full attention is going to fall on the fleets.”

“We are still waiting on two members of the council to arrive,” Urus explained. “They’ve already indicated that they will sign the treaty.”

“So the council is unanimous, that’s good news.”

“Our experiences under Separatist rule have united and motivated us like never before. It has not been something I would wish on anyone.”

“It’s a running theme wherever they land and conquer. They’re essentially a megacorp group that has taken the idea of a ‘hostile takeover’ to new levels.”

“Yes, that enslaves in all but name. They forced all our fuel plant workers to sign ridiculous contracts at blaster point. Any dissent or refusal was brutally met with reprisal. With us in the Republic, our local freedoms are restored, for this we thank you for coming to our planet’s aid.”

“You were under hostile occupation from an enemy. Yes, we will benefit from your fuel flowing again, but Malastare is more than just its fuel.”

“Well spoken, commander,” Urus smirked. “I see this is the beginning of a great alliance. Our forces will need some time to reorganize and rebuild, but you can expect to see us soon on the frontlines. The enemy is still next door, after all.”

“And we will welcome the help,” I smiled and bowed slightly. “Doge Urus, in the spirit of alliance and openness I must inform you of a discovery we’ve made in the sinkhole. Something you might be able to shed light on. Do you know of any native creature to Malastare that grows to about 100 meters in length, has natural organic armor plating, colored brown-tan, long sinuous neck, green eyes?”

The elder dugs before me seemed to shudder as I explained, then their thick necks grew tense and eyes narrowed.

“That can only be one thing,” Urus gritted his jaw. “It is a Zillo Beast. They once roamed openly on Malastare, devouring our ancestors. Our people were driven to near extinction by the beasts. Then when we started harvesting fuel from the planet, it turned the tide and now the Zillo were killed off. They are supposed to be extinct.”

I had to sometimes really wonder about the Force and its love for theatrics and coincidence sometimes. The scream of what had to be the Zillo itself echoed weirdly out of the massive sinkhole and washed over everyone. I had no choice but to quickly put my helmet on to save my hearing. I could feel this sound even in my lungs.

Urus and his council briefly and instinctually flattened their height in a fear response before mastering themselves. He barked instructions in the dug language, which sent all three councilors reaching for holo communicators, where they began speaking rapidly.

“Well, I suppose that removes any doubt,” Urus declared grimly.

Two gunships rose out of the sinkhole’s dust cloud and desperately went into reverse, whilst spamming missile and blaster fire from their nose mounts.

The Zillo’s massive head and sinuous neck emerged into view as it tried to snap and gobble the gunships up. The blaster cannon fire splashed harmlessly off its thick armored hide. The missile explosion was also similarly ineffective, only serving to give the Zillo’s scales a bit of carbonation.

Thankfully the gunships managed to gain altitude quickly enough that the Zillo beast’s bite missed and it had reached the full extension that its neck was capable of even with a lunge.

Gravity reclaimed it, pulling the Zillo back down into the gloomy depths of the sinkhole. The earth beneath my feet shuddered from the impact of the beast.

“Doge Urus, please tell me your ancestors left behind their technique for dealing with this.”

His eyes frowned for a moment, “Yes, they did, commander. It is something passed down to every Doge in the archives. Even in our dugling nursery rhymes the basics are passed down orally. Thank you for telling us, commander. We will remember. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have much to organize.”

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By nightfall, most of the perimeter of the sinkhole was encircled by dug railguns that were almost continuously firing on the Zillo beast as soon as the gunners could draw a bead on the creature. It said something about how seriously the dugs took this. I didn’t even think that they had this many of those tanks left, but they probably had some secret reserve stockpile somewhere that they had drawn from for this occasion.

The effect of the railguns was at least more significant on the Zillo than an equivalent energy weapon or missile and Urus explained it was why the dugs favored it as an artillery piece, to the point where it had been ingrained in their culture by their ancestors. It didn’t penetrate those thick colossal scales, but still acted like a hammer would on a plate armored knight. The kinetic energy transfer still happened. It pained and even hurt the flesh beneath. It nicely served to herd the Zillo and generally kept it from trying to climb out of the sinkhole.

Most of the formal dug militia was also around the crater, carrying forward ammo and chanting some form of battle song in their language as they worked.

Anakin and Windu watched everything going on passively, but in the Force, it was obvious that the Jedi Master strongly disapproved.

The annoyed and sometimes pained screams of the Zillo beast would also occasionally emerge and reverberate through the entire area. This combined with the railgun fire had me constantly with my helmet on and my external sound pickups set to the lowest levels they could go, whilst still giving me some input for my natural echosense.

It was not a pleasant experience standing in the constant cacophony.

Windu gestured for us to follow him. It was impossible to properly speak standing there and both of them were using a neat little TK trick around their ears to shield their own hearing from the concussion.

It was only when we were about three hundred meters away that the sound levels dropped to a point where I could normalize my hearing.

Windu’s destination was the command tent that Doge Urus had set up some three kilometers away from the sinkhole. It was a sensible precaution, as it would at least take the Zillo roughly half a minute to cover that distance - maybe - that was napkin math and I had no idea how fast a motivated Zillo sprint could be.

I also didn’t relish what I had to do next. Windu was not someone I wanted to get on the wrong side of. Yet, I didn’t want relations with the dugs to sour, which was clearly going to happen at this rate.

“Master Windu.”

“Yes, Padawan?”

“Confronting Urus about what they are doing is not a good idea.”

“Oh? Do explain, padawan.” Windu’s tone was as frosty as a Hoth morning.

“The Zillo as a species were natural competitors to the dugs as the dominant life form of Malastare. That was a contest that the dugs won through intelligence and using Malastarian fuel as a weapon. To have a Zillo appear now is something their ancestors even warned of, as they clearly understood these creatures were capable of hibernation periods of dozens of centuries, way beyond the natural lifespan of dugs.”

“Interesting, so your argument is that we are merely witnessing the final stage of the dugs claiming natural dominance of Malastare. That interfering on behalf of this potentially unique life form would put our treaty with the dugs in jeopardy.”

“Yes, in essence. This is an internal matter to the dugs.”

“Are you forgetting that all life is sacred, padawan?”

“Not at all, master. On the contrary, it’s because of that principle that I think we shouldn’t interfere.”

Windu kept walking and shook his head. “I’m beginning to see why some masters disliked debating you at the academy, padawan.”

I buried my amusement behind my thoughtshield but Anakin had no problem openly chuckling at Windu’s displeasure. “Please Master, my padawan will get to the point and I think I see where she’s going with this.”

“It’s not just a matter of pragmatism in securing the treaty and the fuel for our fleets, master. The Zillo is at best semi-sentient to my senses. There is an instinctual mind with memory and preference there, but nothing that makes the true final leap out of animalism. Even if we relocate the Zillo to another world, it will make a mess out of that world’s ecosystem. It needs to eat and those teeth aren’t for plants. I don’t know how it reproduces, but if it doesn’t need a mate and is capable of self-fertilization, we risk creating an entire new cycle of conflict in that world and the extinction of yet more life. Then there is the issue of the Zillo’s natural armor.”

Anakin nodded. “Resistant to blaster weaponry on artillery scale from a gunship, missiles, and my lightsaber just bounced off.”

“Master, don’t tell me you tried to…” I just gaped at him. “Even if it penetrated, it’d be as effective as a zilkin trying to kill you with a small needle.”

“I had to try,” Anakin shrugged.

I made a mental note to slap him upside the head in private on Padme’s behalf.

“In any event, once that is known there will be quite a few people on Coruscant who will be pressuring to study the Zillo, to see if it will be possible to at least replicate this armor, either in structure using other materials or perhaps even clone it. Then it will just be a matter of time before the CIS learns.”

Windu stopped walking at this point. “You make excellent points, Padawan Tano. Yet now that I see it, there is no way to avoid that chain of events. At some point, whether through standard reports from us, Doctor Boll or via Republic Intelligence agents embedded in our fleet, the Zillo’s existence will become known throughout Republic R&D and to the Chancellor’s office. Containing the news is impossible.”

“It is unfortunate that this discovery happened in the context of a crucial battle in the war,” I said with some regret. “If this had been a Jedi Explorer Corp expedition, then the information could be handled with more circumspection. The Zillo beast is a being that is ‘out of the past’ you could say and no matter where it goes, it’ll profoundly affect all and mostly not for the better.”

Windu resumed our walk to the command tent. “There must be a way that we are not seeing.”

Anakin lagged behind a little and gave me a raised, questioning eyebrow.

I could only shake my head at his silent question. There was no ‘good’ path here, not from the point of view of the Zillo beast. There was only the question of how much damage it would do before we were forced to finally kill it.

The only path was to at least mitigate or head off the damage, the first step of which I had already done.

We entered the command tent to find Doge Urus and the full Dug Council all pouring over a truly ancient looking scroll made of a stretchy leather which had been literally burned with dug writing and a stylized drawing of a Zillo beast.

“Ah, Master Windu, what can I do for you?” Urus asked, his finger tracing over the head of the drawn beast.

“We… understand what this life form represents to your people. Do you understand that it might hold some significant interest to not only the Republic but also other parties?”

Urus frowned for a moment, then abruptly rolled the scroll closed. “By Striar, I was so caught up in the moment… You’ll have to forgive me, Master Jedi. Our ancestors foretold of this day when we would have to once again defeat a Zillo.” He stared at all of us in suspicion. “You object to us killing this beast?”

“No, Doge Urus,” I said hurriedly. “It’s more a matter of what happens afterwards that concerns us. You saw the defensive properties of its scale armor to even modern heavy weaponry.”

“Yes. The thought of railgun tanks wearing Zillo armor really does appeal. You wish to examine the corpse then?”

“Only by you and the Council’s permission, Doge Urus.”

“Hmmm,” Urus tapped the fingers of his large hand on the table he was using. “Very well. We’ll allow it. We dugs don’t really care for trophies and the Zillo belongs in our history, not on the planet. However, there is a matter that you might help us with.” The dug leader looked really displeased and reluctant now. He stared at his fellows who only nodded their agreement. “Our ancestors killed them by luring them into prepared traps, using our own people as bait. The traps were filled with fuel and yet more ready to be delivered if it became necessary. The beasts were then easy to target with our earliest railguns, allowing us to aim for the weak spots in its mouth.”

“The sinkhole is too big,” Anakin nodded in understanding. “Even if you pump fuel in there, it’ll be uneven and the Zillo will just be driven to another part of the sinkhole. You couldn’t fill that hole in any decent time frame even if you had the amount of fuel required.”

“Correct, Master Jedi. We are trying to build a trap nearby to our ancestor’s specification, but they are equally enormous. Even with modern equipment, my engineers estimate it’ll take at least three weeks. It’s time that we don’t have. That beast will sooner or later find a way out of that hole.”

“I have an idea about that,” Anakin declared. “When I was climbing the Zillo, I noticed there were extremely thin gaps between the scales.”

Urus blinked in astonishment. “You climbed a Zillo?!”

“More like running on its back then jumping off its head onto a rope, but that’s beside the point. Our Falchion tanks fire directed ion beams. Now I fully expect its armor to be able to withstand the destructive force, but there is a radiant bleed off at impact that should sneak through those small gaps and start affecting its nervous system.”

“Affect it in what way?”

“Dampen it, prevent movement, even put it to sleep maybe.”

“Sleep? We have to kill it!”

“That would be much easier to do if it stopped moving. It’d be the same as if we trapped it, no need for massive amounts of fuel. Then a point blank rail gun round up the nose or mouth to finish the job.”

Urus frowned and looked astonished, “Well, that might just… work. That’s a brilliant idea!”

“Thank me when it works, it might not and get us all killed,” Anakin pointed out.

“Bah! It’ll work and then we will toast to our new alliance, sealed with the hunt of the last Zillo. It’ll be glorious.”

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The hunt of the last Zillo was not so glorious for me on the other hand.

Jedi policy in these circumstances meant that while Anakin and Windu climbed in a Falchion tank with two troopers and thirty five other tanks, I had to remain in a ‘command position’ in the rear where it was safe. So if the worst happened there would be a Jedi witness and the truth of what happened could easily be determined and verified. It was rather bloody minded, but very practical and a necessity.

So I watched from the observation platform with other members of the Dug Council using night vision sensors.

Each Falchion steadily hovered forward toward the lip of the sinkhole, joining the ranks of the dug railgun tanks.

The Falchions didn’t have the turret depression to literally shoot downward below the horizon normally, unlike the dug tanks whose ball style turret could swivel to achieve such shots.

The solution, which Anakin had devised on the fly by uploading a software patch via R2 to every tank, allowed an override in the repulsorlifts. It allowed the Falchion to literally pitch its aft into the sky, while pointing the front of the massive tank down.

No sooner had they achieved this ridiculous feat of hover tank maneuverability, then the emitter tips of every Falchion gun lit up and thick ion beams shot into the sinkhole.

The radiant light was refracted through the ever present dust and lit up the yawning void very eerily in the night.

It was almost beautiful to look at.

It was as if a giant boiling cauldron of blue-white light had suddenly been made out of the earth.

The railgun tanks stopped firing at this point and waited.

Those guns had kept firing for an impressively long time and it really spoke of dug metallurgy and ingenuity in designing them.

The distance from the sinkhole was too great for normal eyes, so I projected my senses forward with Farsight.

Most of the ion beams had found their mark, but the Zillo beast was not going down easily.

It surged forward, trying to make a jump and find enough purchase on the sides of the sinkhole to climb up and out.

The problem was that the ‘walls’ of the sinkhole were porous, loose and unstable. Its long flat claw-like appendages only briefly found purchase before it collapsed under the incredible strain of its weight, which was conservatively about fifty or sixty thousand tons. It fell back down into the depths of the sinkhole, causing a landslide with it.

The rapid descent bought it some reprieve from the ion beams, briefly fouling the aim of the gunners in the tanks. A simple adjustment corrected that and once again the full force of thirty six ion beams were washing over the Zillo beast.

The beast screamed in defiance and regained its balance and leverage, trying for another jump, but it was already feeling the effect of the ion spillover into its body, just as Anakin had predicted.

Its legs began buckling under it as it charged forward and it didn’t manage a jump at all.

It half-stumbled awkwardly and collapsed onto its side with a roar of frustration that was growing ever weaker.

The beams continued, some gunners even managing to focus their aim directly onto the head.

The beast crawled forward weakly, vainly trying to reach its tormentors.

It managed to reach the side of the sinkhole again, but found its limbs lacking the strength to even grasp the sides.

After roughly ninety seconds of ion bombardment, the Zillo beast collapsed heavily, stirring up a new massive dust cloud.

The dug tanks now had the problem that they couldn’t find an angle to properly hit the nose or attain the angle to shoot into the mouth of the Zillo. That was a little detail that had escaped me.

The Falchion tanks ceased fire.

It didn’t take long for the enterprising dugs to devise a simple solution.

With the Falchions ready to dampen the Zillo’s nervous system again, there was enough time for tanker ships laden with Malastarian fuel to be flown in and dump the toxic fuel directly onto the beast’s hide.

It didn’t take long after that.

I sensed it die.

It was peaceful this way at least.

Unlike in another time and place on Coruscant, where it would cause the destruction and death of thousands in its rampage as it tried to kill Palpatine outside the Senate. Where it would be poisoned with a gaseous form of the fuel that was further refined for its toxicity by Doctor Boll.

That gas was something that the galaxy would be much better off not discovering.

My comlink drew my focus back to my body.

“Yes, Master?”

“We think the Zillo is dead, can you confirm?”

“It’s dead,” I said softly.

“We’ll wait for the fuel to dissipate and settle a bit. In the meantime, we need some carrier gunships to get the body out. I think five should be enough with high tensile durasteel cabling.”

“I’ll head to Resolute and get it done, Master.”

“You did well, Snips.”

We weren’t about to truly discuss it over a radio channel, but he generally could tell now when I was applying prescience to a situation. I didn’t know how to really feel that our relationship as master and padawan had progressed to that point.

“I just wish that there could’ve been another way.”

“Don’t second guess yourself at this point, Snips.”

He was right, of course.

Now the Zillo beast’s body could be at least shipped to any secure planet in the core worlds to be studied in complete safety without the potential of a Godzilla style rampage across a city. Palpatine would still order an attempt to clone the bloody thing though.

Whether that would work, really depended on the DNA or equivalent that the Zillo had. The future was murky that far but there were for sure no cloned Zillo beast rampages that I could sense in the probability line. There was perhaps something about their successful reproduction that frustrated the cloning process.

The true work that I wanted to see done, and would be encouraging behind the scenes with different methods was Zillo inspired armor for both starfighters and starships.

That would be just the ticket for resisting a Yaret-Kor plasma weapon that the Yuuzhan Vong so favored in inter-ship warfare.

“I won’t, Master,” I said firmly. “I’ll be back with the LAAT carriers within the hour.”

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