The Force Wills - Chapter 78 (Patreon)

“Glad to hear from you,” said Obi-Wan’s hologram in relief.

“We’re a few minutes out, any last minute requests, master?” I asked urgently.

“The upper left flank of my wall of battle is really getting pressed hard, your fleet would be just what’s needed to firm it up.”

I brought up a system holo from the left armrest of my command chair. With a few gestures it brought up the current real time mess that was the Mossak system.

It was all centered around a main sequence star with a yellow-white color, that was roughly double the mass of what I remembered old Sol was. Surrounding it was a system of seven celestial bodies and a debris field, that ten thousands years ago, had been the first planet of the system.

The main thrust of the current battle was taking place around the seventh planet, which was currently where the main hyperspace emergence for Mossak was located.

I looked at it all and my stomach clenched.

This would be the first time I would be throwing the Resolute and a fleet under my command into the vast grinder that was a direct front line battlespace. Behind me in formation were a further twelve Venators and sixteen Gun Acclamators, representing the hastily formed and named 221st Fleet.

All that ship tonnage and my fleet was considered but a single piece on the board of this battle.

Obi-Wan’s Open Circle Fleet stretched across nearly two million kilometers, the left flank of battle was anchored to Mossak VII. An unremarkable, barely habitable desert world, with a very strong magnetosphere.

Five hundred and twenty three Republic ships, from Venators all the way down to Consular class frigates, stood opposite nine hundred and twenty CIS Navy ships, with their usual assortment of Lucrehulk battleships and carriers, Munificents, Recusants, Fantail destroyers and there was even Hardcell battle refit corvettes.

The two walls of battle lumbered ever closer to each other, whilst the fighter battle between them was an awful furball of ships that were maneuvering against each other at dizzying vectors and trying to make it through to the other side to deliver their ordinance against the enemy.

Space was awash with blue and red plasma. Concussion missiles streaked through space, leaving faint blue gas trails in their wake.

The two fleets were trading long range torpedo fire at the moment and the test of their respective point defense networks was starting in earnest.

I also saw immediately why Obi-Wan wanted me there - they had either been unlucky, the CIS had focused saturation fire or the PD network was lacking. The wrecks and debris of seven dead Venators and two Acclamators were spinning about dangerously in that quadrant of the wall. They were getting pulled into the gravity well of the planet.

“I see it, I’ll make best speed once I’m out of hyper. Oh, do you want me to…”

I couldn’t exactly say it over a channel, even if it was hyper encrypted.

“That would be most appreciated,” he said, giving me a very brief quirk of his right lip.

“Consider it done. Is Anakin somewhere in the middle of that fighter furball?”

“Where else would he be?”

“Right, stupid question. On my way, master. Tano out.”

I looked up into the endless tunnel of hyperspace and began preparing.

By the time my fleet was about to burst back into real space, I had lightly connected every soul aboard every ship into a web of battle meditation.

For appearances I kept the usual verbal orders going, but I stood like a conductor in the minds of my crew, they were an orchestra and every musician could see me standing in front of them, moving my baton and hands.

“Three… two… one… emerging from hyper, commander,” declared Nav.

“All ships, double front shields, engage tractor beams, push our way through the debris.”

The twelve Ventators and Resolute divided smoothly into two groups, forming the main core of our wall with the Acclamators on the flanks above, left, right and below.

To an outside observer, it looked very impressive and something that could’ve only been done by a very experienced fleet.

Tractor beams stabbed outward invisibly, nudging debris away from the slowly accelerating ships.

Where the debris was too large for individual beams, ships smoothly worked together, converging their efforts.

Even as this was happening, I was slowly but surely extending my meditation towards every other Republic ship on my right flank.

Whilst I had a dense grouping of every soul on the ships of my own fleet, I limited it to only the captain of every other ship, including the wing commanders of the fighters and even pulled in Obi-Wan and Anakin eventually.

That was a much more manageable number for me. A battle mediation of the nearly two and a half million naval clones in this fleet would’ve seen me burst a blood vessel. Bastila Shan would’ve managed it, but she had been a crazy one of a kind talent that had only so far come along once in the history of the Jedi Order, at least when it came to this skill.

The 221st Fleet emerged from the debris field intact and joined the main wall of battle.

“The enemy has noticed us, commander. Reading multiple scans and ranging targeting locks,” reported Sensors.

“Return the favor, for the moment, spread our own locks on the enemy directly across from us. Engage Point Defense networks.”

It didn’t take more than a few seconds…

“Incoming torpedo launches.”

The sensor officer didn’t need to state numbers. Just under a light second away, the two hundred odd CIS ships that were directly opposite us launched just over a thousand torpedoes. Their action was mirrored across the entire enemy battle wall and brought that total up to 3524 according to the computer.

“Return fire!” Obi-Wan shouted over the command loop.

The Republic ships launched 2660 torpedoes in response against the enemy, but my fleet came with something new and fun for the whole family.

“Guns, fire CM missiles,” I smirked.

From much smaller articulated launchers that stippled the outer perimeters of every Venator and Acclamator hull, 600 concussion missiles launched.

It would’ve ordinarily been a waste of ordinance, as there were no fighters to target and the range was stupendously long for mere concussion missiles to effectively engage the incoming torpedoes.

That was undoubtedly going through the minds of the CIS commanders, both droid and organic, though the latter would definitely be alarmed, thinking that the Republic was bringing something new to the party.

They would be correct. The CM missile was a dedicated two stage torpedo interceptor, with the speed and avionics to catch such a small target as far away as possible from the hull it was defending. It had a much smaller payload capacity as a result, so was actually quite useless against a shielded fighter, not having the required punch unless you swarmed a single target with at least half dozen of them.

“Again,” I ordered.

A few seconds later another six hundred CM missiles screamed into the void.

If this battle had taken place over a smaller volume of space or at least the entire Open Circle Fleet had CM launchers, the entire thing would’ve had a very different cadence.

As it was, managing the 1200 missiles in real time was only possible because we had enough astromechs managing entire groups of them. Their ranges meant that my fleet could effectively cover half of the wall of battle.

I watched anxiously as the ordinance of both sides screamed at each other.

At these distances CM missiles could cross over to the enemy fleet within just two minutes, heavier capital torpedoes made that journey in three minutes, ten seconds at the moment.

If all that chaos in space wasn’t enough, both sides' fighter forces stopped their duels with each other, to try to shoot down the incoming enemy fire.

It’s all so pretty, I couldn’t help but think as my eyes beheld blues, reds, white flashes, streaks of plasma cannon fire all throughout the ever shrinking gap between the walls of battle. It was like an artist with a paint brush was splashing color throughout space against a black canvas.

I stared at the holo readouts as the computer and astromechs began reporting successful intercepts.

Over the next minute it ticked up and up, bursting with motion, then at last finally settled at a total of 508.

The torpedoes that had been directly attacking the left flank of the wall had been quite decimated, but where the range had opened up into the center of the fleet and the missiles had more ground to cover, interceptions began to fall off considerably.

I didn’t have time to ponder this, as the performance of the system was for post-battle analysis to figure out.

“PD guns firing.”

Both walls of battle erupted into a mass of flak and laser as the torpedoes that made it through the conflagration screamed into their targets for their terminal attack runs.

The amount of torpedoes that had made it to the left flank of the wall of battle was small enough that our PD guns swatted every enemy torpedo out of space. Not a single shield hit was registered on my fleet.

“Sensors, please confirm, not a single hit?”

“Confirmed commander,” said Sensors with no small amount of relish in his voice.

The center and right sides of the Republic wall did not enjoy the same unfortunately.

They did everything right, their PD lasers and autocannons were practically overheating, they were firing and spraying so much counterfire into space.

Then the torpedo hits came.

Shields burst into stark visibility as they struggled against the capital class megatonnage explosions, releasing masses of directional proton particles that sought to wreck their ships.

I watched as an unfortunate Consular frigate just erupted and popped with light, fire and wreckage like a balloon.

A Venator was practically cracked in half, before it’s reactor gave up and annihilated in a huge brief fireball that winked out quickly, sending out a spherical wave of atomic particles and debris.

Obi-Wan spreading his fleet out meant that none of the debris or the explosions could adversely affect their neighboring ship. It gave enough time for evasion or tractor beams to come online and nudge the pieces off course.

Twenty-three Republic ships died, another forty seven damaged and we hadn’t even yet reached conventional turbolaser range.

Then it was the CIS’ turn.

Republic torpedoes began slamming into the enemy fleet.

R3, who was plugged into my command chair’s systems and even coordinating every astromech on the Resolute in guiding our weapons, displayed for me the count.

330 torpedoes had made it through.

Up and down the CIS wall of battle, explosions rippled throughout space with bright white flashes.

A Munificent coasted off course, out of control, crashing right into its neighbor before exploding in a massive release of energetic debris, taking it’s fleetmate with it in less than a nanosecond.

One Lucrehulk writhed and twisted under proton explosion bombardments, before dying to multiple torpedoes that had steered themselves straight through the open hangar doors. It was as if some giant had torn the ship open lengthwise.

Vultures and Tri-fighters that had been kept close to their carrier for protection ceased to exist, reduced to gas and constituent atoms that surged outward into space.

The event was repeated all along the CIS lines with different variations.

Some ships' shields held, only being tested by a single torpedo that had made it through.

Others were damaged badly, their shields utterly lost.

R3 quickly delivered the butcher’s bill for the enemy - sixty three ships dead, twenty mission killed and ten lightly damaged.

At our rate of closure, we’d have one more torpedo exchange before we hit gun range.

The fighter battle was still undecided.

“Obi-Wan,” I said pointedly.

“I know, Ahsoka,” I could sense he understood the brutal calculus being forced on us. No need for Prescience here, it was simple numbers and observing the performance of our fleets against the enemy.

“R3, how are your calculations going?”

“When they are complete, mistress. You’ll be the first to know.”

“The moment we are done with the next torpedo duel, pull in every astromech to help speed it up.”

“Torpedoes loaded and ready, commander,” reported Guns.

Our ready status was sent to Obi-Wan’s flagship and I could feel every captain in the fleet swiftly managing the same. Their confidence and spirits buoyed even further by a subtle nudge in the Force. Their bridge crews felt it too, even if they weren’t truly conscious of it.

“Obi-Wan to fleet, fire!”

The Republic fleet managed to fire first this time and the CIS fleet responded two seconds later.

“Frak!” I swore, instantly sensing that my own fleet was suddenly a primary target, the center CIS wall had fired on me as well. It figured that the CM missiles would make me a priority threat. “Time to see what this system can really do. Guns… don’t spare the launchers or the ammo, I want a full spread out there defending us!”

“Yes commander.”

The 221st ripple fired another 600 CM missiles, in two salvo’s, echoing their first display.

Now another three hundred streaked into space, four seconds later, another salvo.

Two more salvos followed, emptying the launchers, which retreated back into the hull to begin a reload cycle.

1800 CM missiles.

I couldn’t help but stand out of my seat to watch the spectacle with my own eyes as all those missiles traced blue contrails of ion exhaust from my fleet out into space.

It was beautiful, but it also represented desperation and a greater gamble.

There was no possible way we had the computing power and astromechs to handle all those missiles, so it was largely left to the onboard guidance to handle terminal navigation to the targets.

I sat down again and spied all the angry delta symbols that were bearing down on my position in the holo. The cloud of smaller blue deltas racing forward to swat them out of the sky.

“Ahsoka, I’m shifting the fighters,” Anakin declared over the bond.

“Don’t,” I snapped immediately. “We need fighter superiority as soon as possible and we won’t get it by you coming to save my ass. Especially when it doesn’t need saving.”

My hand tapped a button on the arm of my chair.

A new holo interface blossomed into being in front of me - essentially a more compact version of what we had developed for the Star of the Azure.

My hands grabbed the holocontrols and I moved them.

The 221st began maneuvering, presenting their full dorsal profiles towards the incoming enemy torpedoes in near perfect unison, coordinated by computer and the Force.

Every possible weapon was brought to bear now, even the main guns.

I could feel the disbelief of the Gun captain, but he didn’t disobey the orders I was giving through the interface.

The first salvo of CM missiles began reaching their intercept points.

Pinpricks of light began to appear in space, marking successful intercepts.

The counter began ticking.

Torpedoes died, CM missiles died, winking out in the void.

When the final missile ran out of fuel, failing to intercept its target, a total of 711 enemy torpedoes had been erased from space.

Leaving 489 still crashing down onto the left flank.

“Main guns open fire.”

It was inaccurate and overkill, but the massive turbolaser blasts had their size going for them and the possibility they could even kill multiple torpedoes with a single shot.

Despite this, twenty seven torpedoes were erased from existence at extreme range before they crossed into the inner defense perimeter.

The left flank of the Republic line erupted into a tempest of laser and plasma cannon fire.

I submerged deeper into the battle meditation, pushing on the soul and mind of every gunner.

You can do this. Take heart. You will be victorious.

Post-battle analysis would show the accuracy of every clone gunner would nearly be on par with computer controlled guns in this engagement.

Torpedoes died and died, being stopped short by hundreds of meters, turning into ineffective shrapnel that shields simply shrugged off.

Yet, the CIS played the numbers game and saturation fire extremely well.

136 torpedoes breached the inner perimeters and began their terminal attacks.

I felt the deaths of an entire Acclamator as it was bracketed by twelve detonations.

A Venator’s entire bridge superstructure section tumbled off into space, its main hull left behind and crews being greedily pulled out into the vacuum of space.

Most of the ship losses were being experienced on the outer edges of the formation, where the interlocking fields of fire were less dense. Resolute as flagship was nestled in the most protected zone and as such only two enemy torpedoes made it through to detonate against our shields.

“Damage report?” I asked after the bridge lighting flickered.

“Some overloads in port quarter shields, bleeding over into the grid, commander. They were isolated automatically. Engineering teams responding,” reported Engineering.

“Thank you,” I said automatically, letting my anger at all the life that was just lost pass over and through me.

R3 presented the results of our strike against the enemy - sixty three destroyed, nineteen mission killed, 73 with minor damage.

I swiped through the holo to bring up the fighter battle. With the fleets now beginning to enter extreme gun ranges, a major factor would be who could get their strike craft through. I looked at the amount of ARC-170s, Y-Wings and Hyena’s left in the fighter battle…

Reasonable on both sides, with no clear victor yet.

Another swipe and I brought into focus the CIS ships directly across from my fleet, who we were about to trade broadsides with.

Six Lucrehulk battleship variants, four carriers, twenty four Munificents, thirty Recusants.

The only thing that made me not think it suicide, was the cumulative torpedo damage on the ships opposite me. The Lucrehulk’s shields were already battered down significantly, having been the primary target for my own fleet’s torpedoes.

“R3?”

‘Calculations complete,’ reported my astromech.

I eased up a bit on the battle meditation among my own fleet, freeing myself up to reach out and across to the enemy. There would be organic captains and officers on the other side…

Yes, I sensed the sprinkling of souls on each CIS vessel - You are pawns. Dying for an uncaring leader. Your deaths here, another statistic.

I tapped on the holo of a Lucrehulk with the lowest shields. “Guns, Primary target.” A Carrier Lucrehulk with hull damage. “Secondary.” A Munificent that had suffered a hit to its starboard side. “Tertiary. R3, upload the coordinates and target packages to our fighters.”

‘Done, mistress… received and acknowledged. They await your order.’

“Obi-Wan, I’m ready.”

I could practically hear him scratching his beard, “We’ll lure them into a traditional gun duel, then execute.”

“Understood.” I hated the cold blooded necessity of it, but with the disparity in numbers we couldn’t afford to devolve this into a slugfest of attrition.

In the holo, the angry red spheres that denoted the maximum effective range of fire between both fleets began overlapping.

I brought back the fleet positioning controls and reoriented every ship to present the minimum amount of cross section for the enemy to aim at.

“Prepare Salvo Barrages and Time on Target, Guns.”

“Salvo and TOT, commander. Understood.”

Three… two… one… “Fire.”

Both walls of fleets unleashed themselves upon each other. Blue turbolaser blasts streaked across space, whilst orange blasts passed them in the other direction.

“Interceptors!” I shouted.

The PD network, now reconfigured, sent streams of plasma bolt fire forward to disrupt the cohesion of the incoming turbolaser blasts.

The CIS fleet, having long since adapted the technique, erupted with plasma bolts to do the same.

It became a battle of targeting, computer reaction time and how well your interceptor network did its job.

No amount of interception or shields could save you though, when one ship was the sole target of twelve Venators.

The Lucrehulk’s shield just popped like a soap bubble and a follow up barrage caused its hull to erupt into a dozen fountains of fire.

The third volley found its mark directly into the central sphere, which promptly blew up into an eruption of debris and plasma that cracked the rearward hull into two huge pieces that flew off into space, spilling droids and equipment into the uncaring void.

I winced as the CIS returned the favor, sending all their fire into a single Venator to my right.

What was once a kilometer of durasteel hull, the home of over seven thousand crew, just vanished into a flash of brief light and fire, which quickly turned to gas, particulates and debris.

The bloody back and forth repeated itself all across the wall of battle and in many cases happened simultaneously.

I stared at the overall fleet count as the number of active units on both sides ticked down rapidly.

“Obi-Wan,” I said heavily.

We couldn’t sustain this.

“Do it.”

“R3, give the signal.”

“Sent.”

“Guns, I want every collimator laser of the 221st powered up and to start firing!”

“Understood!”

The remaining eleven Venators stopped firing their turbolasers and simultaneously opened their ventral doors.

The lowered emitters of eleven proto-Death Star beams began glowing purple.

Eleven beams of light flashed out into the void briefly.

Two Lucrehulk battleships died instantly as they were targeted by enough firepower to do a nice job of ruining a planetary crust.

Just as the CIS was processing this event, out of hyperspace, a total of 460 upgraded and streamlined ARC-170s emerged. Each squadron appeared exactly at the calculated coordinates and ripple launched every torpedo they had, before they frantically accelerated into evasive action. The CIS Interceptor network was naturally a huge threat, but it was now too busy being occupied by the Republic fleet suddenly spreading out its targeting and turbolaser fire into a broad pattern.

Just under three thousand torpedoes were now racing into the close range defenses of the CIS navy.

They had barely seconds to bring their flak cannons to bear.

Yularen-Tano had been done before, but never at this scale and with this much precision.

“Collimators recharged,” announced Guns.

I tapped another two Lucrehulks.

“Fire!”

Purple beams lanced out into the night again.

A Lucrehulk was turned into three giant pieces, the other suffered a reactor breach.

Dozens of Munificents across the entire enemy wall of battle blew up as they sustained hits from fighter-launched torpedoes.

I pressed hard on the spirits and minds that I could reach on the other side.

You will die here today. Don’t throw your life away in this battle.

The tide of the fighter battle also decisively shifted at this point, as the 221st complement of Z95 Headhunters appeared from hyperspace, releasing over 1800 wing mounted concussion missiles into the fighter furball.

Vulture, Hyena and Tri-fighters began dying by the dozens in quick succession.

“Aspect change on the enemy,” announced Sensors, as two more Lucrehulks facing the 221st Fleet died to collimated lasers. “They’re in retreat! Full burn away from us!”

I watched as the remaining enemy ships turned tail and presented us with their engine plumes.

“Are we pursuing, Obi-Wan?” I asked over the command channel.

His holo appeared next to me, “The system’s emergence point is ours. We must hold and wait for reinforcements. Our numbers are barely even now and the damage levels across the fleet isn’t conducive to a pursuit action.”

“Understood.”

“However, I’m not content to just let them sit cozy at the Felucia hyperspace point. Get your fighters and bombers rearmed, Ahsoka.”

“Very well, master.”

“Oh, and well done,” he gave me a small secretive smile.

I nodded and pulled back, letting go of the battle mediation completely. My eyes almost closed immediately, before I forced them open, “I think I’m going to need a nap.”

“Then go, that’s an order. You’ll be needed fresh in the battles to come for this system.”

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Two days of sporadic battles for the planets of the system followed.

Always between a handful of ships and their attendant fighters. The CIS were very wary of any Venator now and Obi-Wan was enjoying playing a literal shell game and screwing with the enemy’s heads. Republic reinforcements arrived and our planet hopping march became a figurative steamroller.

We kicked the Seppies out of the orbitals of three planets and on only one occasion had to do any ground fighting to root out any holdouts.

This would change for Mossak IV.

It was the single garden world of the system, filled with mountainous terrain, dense plant life and exotic animal life that fed off it. No indigenous sapient life had evolved yet, though the conditions for it were there. Naturally, the Separatist military didn’t care and had a nice large base on it, along with numerous mining operations pulling every strategic mineral resource you could hope to name out of it.

It was now the 501st Legion’s job to clear the planet of the CIS presence.

“You’re quite pensive today, Snips,” said Anakin as he hung onto the overhead straps in the belly of the LAAT gunship we were using.

I stared out of the open side doors and the exotic jungle landscape that blurred past us as the gunship flew at low altitude. My eyes found the full two moons glowing down onto the terrain, casting everything in a soft light, giving the greens, blues and reds below a very eerie feeling. If I didn’t know better, it was as if a terrain straight out of Mortis had been transplanted onto this planet, or maybe Mortis had imitated this world.

“Just wish our attack could’ve been done without those moons overhead.”

“Our attack would’ve had to be postponed for quite a while, if we wanted favorable conditions,” he said, but I could sense his frown and that he wasn’t buying it, stupid bond.

I adjusted my helmet slightly, quelling an itch on one of my montrals. “Let’s just say I’ve got a feeling that there are some unpleasant days ahead.”

‘If it was something to do with the mission, then you would’ve been all over it, Snips,’ Anakin thought to me, his worry now blatant. ‘You’re being reticent, therefore… this is personal.’

‘It is and it’s not just about me.’

The gunship started to slow down rapidly before flaring to land in an expansive staging area where dozens of AT-TEs were standing in a long column. They were all online and their crews were testing the articulation of their legs. Massive Juggernaut tanks were also sprinkled here and there, swallowing up entire companies of clone infantry.

Anakin and I hopped off the gunship and were immediately met by a waiting Master Plo Koon.

“What’s the situation at the base? Anything changed?” Anakin asked.

“It seems the Separatists don’t want to give up this planet easily. The orbitals are still contested and sensors indicate they’ve landed two droid carriers as reinforcements. No armored units have yet landed, so our advantage there will hold as long as we don’t give the enemy time.”

“Then let’s get going. Snips, take the lead Juggernaut, I’ll be in the center of the column. Master Koon?”

“I shall endeavor to keep our rear elements secure.”

“Good, may the Force be with us.”

As I rushed towards the front of the armored column, Anakin’s thought reached me, “Whatever it is, Snips. I trust you.”

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We really should’ve just done an infiltration and sabotage, called it a day. I was not the theater commander, however, and Obi-Wan wanted a clean sweep and to give the fresh batch of rookie clones that had been brought into the 501st some experience. There wasn’t a Republic ship or unit in the Mossak system that didn’t have a fresh cadre of clones from Kamino and the campaign here was being used as a way to bloody them before the big event - the push to Felucia.

If Felucia was secured and held it would open the strategic crossroads of Lianna to a possible two front attack, which would majorly boost any campaign trying to take that system. It was also seen as one of the strategic stepping stones to drive deep into the CIS heartlands in the north-east, to eventually take Raxus Prime.

I had to grab an overhead handhold to steady myself as the massive 49 meter Juggernaut tank rolled over a bit of unsteady terrain. What was considered a bump to such a monster, most other wheeled vehicles would generally consider impassible.

Looking around the cramped ‘bridge’ of what was in essence a landship, made me think I was stuck in a command center that wouldn’t be out of place on a wet-navy ship from old Earth, then slap on Coruscanti technology over that.

“Sorry about the bumpy ride, commander,” said the tank’s commander, who had his face stuck into a holo periscope.

“Understandable, Screwball,” I said, glad for my helmet in hiding my smile. Just how this clone had gotten stuck with that name I really wished to know. The guy was also a bit nervous at having a Jedi commander on his deck, so he was blabbering a bit to fill the air with conversation.

My moment of levity was short lived when I sensed-

“Frakking kriff! Vultures! Engage your missile systems,” I swore as I slammed the button to pop the hatch above me.

I wormed my way through the small tunnel and opened an exterior armored hatch to jump out onto the body of the Juggernaut.

The other reason I wasn’t too enamored with the idea of this attack; our spotty air superiority. You’d think that with the main attack on the sole CIS military base on this planet, that all our aerospace assets would be allocated to cover us, but the Seppies were keeping the space above Mossak IV bitterly contested. The fighter pilots of the campaign were all racking up the kills and getting killed in turn.

Now a full squadron of Vultures was about to strafe the column. Why there were no Hyenas among them I wasn’t going to complain or worry about. Though it wasn’t their traditional role, Vultures could carry air to ground ordnance to ruin any AT-TE’s day and their forward cannons could damage external sensors and systems enough to effectively mission kill any tank.

All the Juggernauts in the column had reacted by now and armored side panels opened, before belching out their anti-air concussion missiles towards the incoming Vulture squadron.

I watched as streaks of white blue lines were traced through the air as the missiles raced desperately towards their targets.

In the next moment, twenty four missiles were launched towards the armored column.

AT-TEs were not helpless against airborne threats and every tank turned their six anti-personnel Repeaters skyward and began spraying the sky, attempting to shoot down the missiles.

The Juggernauts turned their rapid-repeating laser cannons mounted in a large ball turret on their heads skyward and joined in sending more firepower into the sky, though their targets were the Vultures themselves.

Three missiles survived the storm of fire and streaked directly toward the tank under my feet.

Naturally, the lead tank was always the first to be targeted, along with the rear.

I raised my hand and tweaked the incoming missile warheads, then released a Force Push.

They slammed into the Push a hundred meters above my head and simply crumpled into a minor rain of parts and debris, their detonators failing to go off.

The attacking Vultures began being slapped out of the sky by heavy fire from the Juggernauts as they began their strafe attempt.

A Vulture broke apart, its nacelles spinning rapidly out of control before crashing and erupting into a brief fireball as its fuel cooked off.

My will reached out to the earth below my tank and large pieces of rock began rising into the air.

I arranged it into a shield just in time for a Vulture’s cannon fire to uselessly slam into it.

I broke off a piece from the shield and sent it soaring into the sky.

The Vulture tried to evade, but it only ended up evading directly into the path of my projectile.

It deformed and was torn apart by its own speed as I had effectively thrown a wall in front of it. The debris spun off and was eagerly claimed by gravity, crashing into the forest a few hundred meters to my right.

As quickly as it had begun, the attack was over.

Only three Vultures had survived and they were already rapidly accelerating away from our position and becoming pinpricks in the distance.

I dropped the rock shield over to the side and climbed back in the tank.

“That was solid work, commander,” Screwball said soberly, though I sensed internally he was somewhat gobsmacked. Clones were given general training on what to expect from their Jedi commanders at this point, but Rex had said it was woefully lacking on the true reality.

“Same to you, I think your gunners managed two kills and four missile intercepts.”

“Thank you, commander. Just doing our job.”

“All right, let’s get this column moving again.”

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Master Koon lowered his macrobinoculars and I could see that he wasn’t happy.

As much as we had brought enough forces to take the base in the forested valley below us, it was not going to be a cakewalk. There were a lot of DSD1 spider droids and AATs parked and clearly readying themselves for battle, including three battalions of assorted battle droids, B1s and B2s being the most common.

Like all Separatist ground bases, they consisted of huge modular cubes that they could drop directly onto a planet’s surface with minimal preparation. It also had built-in wall segments that raised themselves up to make armored walls that stood nearly six meters tall. It was as if someone in the CIS had taken the concept of Lego and applied it to base construction.

Right now, I wanted nothing more than to take Wraith and Shadow Squadrons, and wipe it off the map.

But no, I had to be a ground pounder.

“We’ll do a three pronged attack, I’ll lead one element and attack from the west, Skywalker your element attacks the main gate to the south. Ahsoka, your element attacks from the north-east.”

“Understood, Master,” Anakin nodded and we headed our separate ways.

I had a full company of clones with mostly heavy weaponry, shoulder launched rockets and even a full squad of jump troopers.

The initial assault would be infantry only to force the enemy armor out of the base, at which point the waiting Republic tanks would crest over the edges of the valley and begin raining hell.

The entire infantry sneaky approach was only possible at all because of life sign scramblers on the belt of every clone. I was guiding the way and sensing every motion or pressure sensor that was scattered all over the valley, guiding my troops around them. Whilst the other elements had to rely on sappers and conventional means to fool those sensors.

This meant that my troops were first to arrive within throwing distance of the base’s exterior walls, keeping ourselves visually concealed behind the thick trees.

It was during this wait, that I sensed it.

That in another time and place, another Ahsoka had adopted a bit too much of Anakin’s cockiness and the Force decided to school her was not surprising. The test for me was going to be different, as the Force so helpfully showed the probability lines stretching out before me with a frankly astonishing clarity.

It was nice that I was still being given a choice, but really, I had already made it. It simply wasn’t in me to make any other.

So my mind turned to practicalities and as I studied the being I had sensed sneaking closer, I realized just how it was staying so stealthy, even to a Jedi’s senses. It definitely had something to do with just how ‘alien’ they were and how good they were at general concealment from conventional senses. The element of surprise was another powerful factor against anyone, even Jedi to a lesser degree. The chaos of a clone wars battlefield was not somewhere you expected to find a hunter. There was also technology involved unsurprisingly.

“M8, prepare to execute Program Nightstalker,” I subvocalized into my helmet.

“Nightstalker ready, mistress,” my armor’s intelligence responded immediately. “Mistress, are you sure? What have you sensed?”

“That will become clear soon.”

The next half hour was an agonizing wait and test. I was being observed by the hunter now and my body language had to be just right, to keep luring him in.

“In position,” Anakin whispered over the main encrypted channel.

“In position,” Master Koon reported a few seconds later. “Artillery, open fire.”

The sky thumped numerous times as a full squadron of AT-TEs sent mass driver rounds screaming into the night.

They were all positioned on the edge of the reverse slope of the valley, sending indirect fire to plunge into the base.

The earth began thumping under my feet with the impact of the rounds exploding.

Why there wasn’t a ground based shield system was an open question, but it wasn’t exactly something that the CIS could afford to slap onto every base they had in the entire galaxy. Mossak IV was a frontier mining world and a relative backwater for their long term planning. It was only now that the front lines had moved here that it was getting all this military reinforcement from the Separatists, who wanted to make the Republic bleed for every inch of ground.

“Go, go!” I hissed at the clones.

The clones with sniper rifles took their shots immediately, destroying the B1s standing on the guard wall.

The jump troopers were next, their jetpacks igniting and shooting them into air on a controlled trajectory to land right on the parapets of the wall. Their carbines began barking in the night.

Squads broke out of the tree line, firing ascension guns and pulled themselves up onto the wall in moments. Those with the heavy weapons began firing and rockets began streaking into the base, seeking out enemy armor.

“Commander?” asked Captain Grim, the leader of the 501st Fox Company, clearly wondering why I was lagging behind.

“Send your troops over, captain, and you as well,” I said, subtly making a hand signal in the clone version of battlefield signs.

“Understood commander,” he said at once and rushed to join his men, making me the tail-end charlie.

I gave him a few seconds before rushing towards the wall.

The electro stun net with weighted bolos, shot forth with an impressive speed, seeking to wrap me up from behind.

I stopped instantly and threw a Force Stasis behind me.

Then in the next moment, sent a Force Push to return it back to the hunter.

My body blurred with speed as I sprinted back, igniting all my sabers.

The hunter was no pushover however, and he had made provision for his own capture tool being used against him.

The electronet powered down and tried to compact itself back into its original munition.

It was quite impressive tech.

The hunter was unfortunately too used to fighting the Jedi padawans of this era, when I was anything but.

The Force Stasis kept the net wide open and whilst it didn’t electrocute him, it did a very nice job of enveloping him much like a conventional net would.

I turned my telekinesis on the hunter fully and before his scaly eyes could even blink, I was in front of him and he was raised helplessly into the air, with pressure squeezing onto him from all sides.

“M8, Nightstalker.”

“Program complete, mistress.”

My armor instantly severed all external communications and encrypted signals. I vanished from the GAR’s local data and intel feed. Even the program bug that Republic Intel had snuck onto my armor went dead. Through the Force, I also slammed the door on Anakin and Padme’s bond.

I looked up into the horizontal slitted orange eyes of a two meter tall, bulky trandoshan. He was festooned in forest camo gear, a black harness with ammo pouches, gadgets and field provisions. Even his scaly skin had been biosculpted artificially into a forest camouflage pattern that I knew wasn’t natural to the trandoshan. His right hand held a type of blaster that was also illegal across most of the galaxy, which he had been trying to bring to bear on me.

It spoke of quite impressive reflexes that he had even managed that.

On his back, was slung a long sniper rifle.

Behind me, the battle for the base had begun in earnest. The cacophony of heavy blaster fire, mass driver rounds from tanks and rockets exploding.

Yet here I was, with a trandoshan hunter in my grasp, who had been looking to turn me into his next prize hunt.

I felt the Darksaber in my right hand surge with power, its blade turning into a roiling storm of black and white.

Those pitiless orange eyes looked down on me. He accepted his fate at that moment, recognizing that he had turned from hunter to prey.

I brought him closer, until his face was inches from my own helmet’s faceplate, to make sure he heard me over the din of battle.

“We are going to have a little chat!”

My mind surged forward along the brief bond I created through those orange eyes.

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A/N:  Spacebattles! Hope you enjoyed and stay awesome folks. Have a great weekend.