The Weaving Force: Chapter 76 (Patreon)

Note: I don't usually start with a note but I feel like I have to for this one. MOST of the scenes here in this chapter, are taking place "simultaneously" or at least very close to it. We are covering the events of a WIDE battlefield space, at least kilometers across. There's no way to have this happen chronologically.

I hope there isn't much confusion because of this, its the first time I've genuinely tried to tackle a Battlefield of this size in a narrative so there are *some* bugs to work out.

Anyway, ON WITH THE FIC :D

Chapter 76:

Taylor:

“General, ma’am.” One of the clones called.

I opened my eyes, slipping seamlessly free from my meditation. I hadn’t fully managed to reach communion with the Queen Administrator as I’d hoped, both due to the lack of time and the need to remain alert, and having no real wish to distract or harm any of the other Jedi fighting right now.

Passenger, The Queen Administrator; was many things. Subtle and unobtrusive wasn’t one of them.

But at the very least I’d drawn close enough to tell that Passenger hadn’t… detected anything too concerning.

Or at least no more than normal given that it was a battlefield

So, with my  own mind set to a fragile ease I looked at the trooper, features neutral and tone blank. “Yes?”

The trooper snapped a sharp salute. “General, might wanna see something. Got movement.”

I stood up at that, accepting the offered binoculars. They had another name for it but fuck it, they were fancy binoculars as far as I was concerned.

Stepping out to the snowy grounds under the Temple’s overhanging roof, I pressed the things to my eyes, magnifying my vision to where theTrooper had been pointing.

There, out on the lake, outside of bug, shield and gun range…

A single light hovertank.

Well… it had the chassis of a hovertank, but the turret had clearly been repurposed into a platform. There was an organic there, a Skakoan, if I recalled the species correctly. Not a messenger, not when a cheap B1 would do for the role. A commander? Or a negotiator? There was a B1 droid behind him, flashing lights in what looked like a code.

He was flanked by Six B2s and what looked like a protocol droid. Maybe for translating?

“What’s the message?” I asked.

“Calling to meet you for a negotiation.” One of the troopers said.

“How long has he been out there?”

“We spotted him about three minutes ago. Took a little time to translate the code, then went to get you.” The same trooper dutifully replied.

There was a moment of silence as I considered things.

Then, to the startled yelps of a handful of soldiers that had been leaning or resting near it, one of my giant crabs began to move, ready to ferry me across the lake.

“General!” The one that had gone to fetch me spoke up, realizing my intent as he carried a warning in his voice. “Ma’am. This has to be some kind of trap! He’s got a whole armored column forming up behind him. We lose you, this line buckles and our reserves will be spread thin, ma’am. Don’t go out there.”

“I’ll be fine, trooper.” I tried to console him.

Truth was, if this was a trap - and it probably was - I wanted the bastard to try. Not because I was brave, but because I wanted to shatter this fucking army of his so I could get the fuck off this line and move to help Vicky or the others who might need me.

The other troopers, however, seemingly agreeing with their brother, began to protest as well.

“Let us go instead, ma’am. You can follow from a vidscreen!” One said.

Not a bad idea. It just had the problem that it would kind of defeat the point of me wanting to spring this possible trap.

“No, I’m going.” I said.

“Bloody hell,” The one that fetched me spoke up again as I began to mount up on the crab, two of his four claws forming a very convenient staircase for me to reach the top of his head. “At least take some of us with you!”

I reached the top of the crab, turning to look at the trooper.

“I can’t promise you’ll be safe.” I said by way of answer, beginning to let the crab move.

“We’re just clones, ma’am.” He protested. “We’re made to die!”

I stopped.

Something felt wrong in the words. The feeling sticking at the back of my mind like a barb. I swear I could almost hear Master Plo’s voice ringing in my ears as I heard it

“Trooper.” I called.

“Ma’am.” I felt him straighten, startled no doubt at the sharpness in my voice.

I didn’t even need to look at him to see it. Even with limited insects as I had right now, I still had more than enough to detect that.

“You ever refer to yourself or your brothers as ‘just clones’ again, you’re on latrine duty till you die of old age.”

There was a brief beat of stunned silence, broken by uncertain black humored chuckles and semi-tense jeers and agreement.

I stayed looking out over the lake for a moment.

“Only volunteers.” I said. “And only four of you. No more than that.”

The trooper snapped a smart salute again. “I’m the first, ma’am!” He said before looking at the others. “Come on, you lot! Who wants to be one of the four that get to say they rode a giant frakking ice crab!?”

More laughter this time, and in a flash the other three spots were filled before we set off into the lake, three other ice crabs forming up around us under the freezing surface.

—

Anakin:

The bombardment didn’t cease. Anakin could tell by the size of the explosions on the field that they weren’t exactly high powered - likely dialed down to the lowest setting to not just consume the various ships’ power reserves.

The green bolts pelted the shield like pretty, emerald rain drops.

But still, low setting would be more than enough to kill a human or Jedi, even in armor.

There wouldn’t be any more surprise sorties.

That left him and his men inside the walls, watching the droids across the field amassing for their first attack.

It was… maddening, really. Just sitting and waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

He hated it.

He wanted to move. To seize on the advantage they’d had with that early attack and run the Force damned droids down.

Defense was not for him. He didn’t have the patience for it nor the desire to just let the enemy choose when and where they wanted to attack. When it suited them on their terms.

If at least one more competent Jedi had joined them here. Master Windu, maybe; then this could be his place and Anakin would be out there, in the fields, hitting and moving as needed. Not letting the droids get their feet under them. Being useful rather than sitting here.

He sighed, aggravated as he pinched the bridge of his nose before he reached to his commlink.

It rang once- then

“Master?”

“Hey Snips.” he greeted. “Just checking in.” Distracting myself more like “Are you and the others ok?”

There was a sound, as though things were being moved in the background. “Yeah we’re ok. One of the of the reserve battalions are being called away to Master Unduli and Master Cere down by the spaceport. So there’s some movement going on here.”

That… was concerning.

The western flank, where the spaceport stood, was nearly unassailable, cradled as it was in such high, narrow mountain crags.

What exactly were they getting hit with that needed that much firepower.

“Should we be worried?” He asked, features grim and serious.

But Ahsoka shook her head. “No, I think it’s-” Another sound. Movement on her end. “-Hmm?”

“HERE THEY COME!”

Apparently they were both interrupted!

“Talk later Snips!”

“Mas-”

He hung up,

Rushing to the wall, he was just beginning to ascend the stairs when he; and Rex right behind him, were nearly knocked on their asses as a series of impacts and explosions seemed to shake the whole fortress, the front most fortifications trembling under the onslaught before the Clones returned fire with their heavy entrenched weapons onto the line of tanks.

Bright, searing red turbo lasers sliced through the skies over his head, the flare of it giving him an instant headache, the smell of fire, blackened smoke and shattered concrete, created a strange mixture of scents as it blended with the sharp sting of Illum’s cold.

Still, the trembling stopped, and when it began again as the next volley of impacts struck the wall they kept their feet, the Duracrete and reinforced steel would hold out, it was designed to do that, and even when it failed the collapsing superstructure would create a barricade of twisted metal and pulped duracrete to serve as yet another barricade.

That didn’t mean they could just let the droids take the damn walls though..

His Lightsaber snapped to life, the bright blue blade shining like a beacon amidst the snow and ice as he grasped it tight in both hands pulling it over his shoulder for a mighty swing as he rushed forward at the head of the clones.

The droids leapt on jump packs, B-1’s and B-2’s rising into the sky, immediately being shot down by advancing clones as they fired down into the sea of white armored bodies. Anakin felt his senses flare, warning him of danger as he turned his head following the warning and reached through the force.

The barrel of a rocket launcher, aimed at him, crumpled in on itself. A split second before its payload was set to exit the chamber, the explosion tearing through a number of the droids in mid air.

Ion charges, high powered canons, wrist rockets and blaster bolts chirped and spat between the two sides, the Assault specialist clones smashing into the droids as they touched down- laying into the clankers with tower shields and crackling shock mauls, physically driving themselves into the speartip as more droids leapt up, over the wall, buying time for the CIS armor to push forward.

If Anakin were Victoria, he might have given one of her somewhat famous pre battle rally speeches. If he were Taylor he’d have stayed quiet.

“For the Republic!” He said instead, and Rex took up the cry, the clones mimicking him in chorus as battle was finally joined and Anakin drove forward with blade in hand.

—

Unduli:

Luminara did not often indulge in doubt.

Doubt was a slow and most insidious path to the dark side.

Doubt led to insecurities, uncertainties, indecision, hesitation. All things born from fear.

The Code is all a Jedi needed to turn to when faced with Doubt.

So no, she did not often  take the time to grapple with Doubt.

She knew her limitations; she knew her place within the order, within the Code and she was at peace with all these things.

Even at the prospect of her own death, here, on this battlefield, or some distant other, or years from now when the war was done. She could and did accept it.

For the Code provided for that too.

There is no death- only the Force.

And so when the Crab droids rose like lumbering giants over the craggy, jagged mountain walls surrounding the spaceport, as they tore through defenses and unloaded their ‘cargo’ of B-1’s, B-2’s and even dreaded Droidekas; Luminara held fast to that steady surety- that implacable, unwavering center of her being that left no room for doubt as she bade the Clones hold them back.

She drove forward, her green blade flashing, strong, decisive swordwork deflecting blaster bolts as she lifted shards and pieces of debris around her, an orbiting field to both attack and defend herself and those immediately beside her.

Slabs of durasteel taking bolts of blaster fire, shards of stone punching through the flimsy craftsmanship of the B-1 droids as her Lightsaber cut down the B-2 she reached’s and her troopers took the opportunity provided by her to gun down the droideka’s either with Ion grenades or sheer overwhelming firepower to overload their shields and tear the spindly legged constructs to pieces under a deluge of blaster bolts.

The droids were beaten back, meter by meter, scrap metal and melted slag piling up at their feet.

Even the heavy Crab droids faltered under withering storms of volley fire and heavy weapons platforms, twin manned anti armor canons being rolled into place by teams of clones to start ripping the things to pieces.

Then, her senses thrummed, a warning in the force as her eyes rose up.

There- howling through the sky a black machine, screaming on overclocking jet engines to have it fall straight to the earth at ludicrous speeds.

A drop pod.

One of not insignificant size.

Even so she remained calm, knowing the sheer speed of the thing even if it somehow bypassed the IFF would have it register as a missile. At those speeds; if it smashed into the shield it would destroy itself before it reached any of them.

And yet, impossibly, just as it would have hit the overhead shield the device slowed. Its counter jets howling to arrest its descent with what would have been enough power to crush every bone in a human’s body.

Her eyes went wide, the pod slipping past the shield like it was little more than a bubble before it let simple gravity take it the rest of the way down.

Her eyes snapped over, realization hitting her like a mag-lev train as she searched and found the culprits.

The crab droids, the ones with the three prongs atop their heads like tuning forks. The so called ‘coordinators’.

They weren’t coordinators.

They were relaying second by second, up to date readouts of the shields. It's the only way that pod could slip past it so seamlessly

“TROOPER!” She shouted over the roar of battle, her Clone officer rushing to her side as she pointed with her Saber, or tried to, needing to hastily deflect a stray shot. “THOSE CRAB DROIDS! THEY’RE PRIORITY TARGETS!”

“Got it General!” The Lieutenant tried to signal for heavy troopers before a shot caught him in the stomach, making him double over as he fell.

The concept was proven, dozens of more pods were dropping from the skies above, so many and so fast there’d be no way the already strained anti air guns would be able to stop them all.

And then the Vulture droids pivoted and, as one, started rushing towards the shield, a full, deadhead charge that saw scores of them destroyed by the automated defenses, even as they tried to breach the ray shield in a single, coordinated push to cover for whatever firepower was inside those pods.

Unduli felt a creeping dread crawl up her spine, realizing the precariousness of their situation as the droid fire intensified, driving her back as she was forced into defending herself with Soresu; even as she used the Force to pull her Clone officer back with her to the relative safety of his ‘brothers’

Then- the Pod crashed down.

It was the size of perhaps a small home, easily enough to fit a heavy weapons platform or two; perhaps, even a small, specialized type of walker to give the droids some much needed armor support.

Instead, as the doors opened, it was not a droid she saw emerge from the Pod.

It was an organic.

A Besalisk.

It was a huge specimen of its kind. As tall as a fully grown wookie and as broad as an adolescent Rancor, its four trunk like arms carried two heavy repeater canons, a blast shield and a mace that could have weighed as much as an adult human.

The thing’s reptilian eyes snapped this way and that way, emerging from the pod before they settled squarely on her.

It smiled, showing off its row of filed, sharpened teeth, blood thirsty and gleeful.

“JEDI!” The roar came from somewhere in its expanding, toad like throat, the Blast shield in its one arm rising and slamming down infront of it in time to take the full brunt of blaster fire that would have left him dead a hundred times over.

Its two heavy repeaters rose; planting themselves on the side of the shield, almost like a crude mimmicry of ancient depictions of spear wielding warriors of the ancestry of several civilizations in their infancy

Then the weapons multiple barrels began to spin, and it started firing.

It was an absolute deluge of firepower. The twin guns feeling more like a dozen, clones were cut down in the double digits with every passing second.

The blasts were powerful, no doubt illegally modified. The powercell wouldn’t last long on either device, but it didn’t matter, the devastation this one Besalisk was laying thick onto her front line was almost single handedly making it buckle.

Then, the B-2 droids that had been in the pod stepped out from behind the Besalisk, its massive bulk abandoning the Pod doorway as they added to the now overwhelming deluge of fire.

The Besalisk’s guns mowed down anything infront of him, but Luminara could feel, and see its eyes fixed on her.

This one wanted to be a Jedi killer.

She had no pride to contest; and little reason to indulge his fantasy

Her blade flashed, deflecting one of the bolts that lanced her way, feeling the impact of it thrum up her arms, nearly knocking the blade out of her hand outright before she dodged the rest.

“Fall back!” She called, maintaining that same, steady calm. “Fall back to hard point Kurik! Call Master Rancisis! We will need reinforcements!”

She had no doubts, she had no fear. Just cold, implacable certainty on what she needed to do to win.

—

Anakin

The droids were well and truly within the fortress walls now.

His men were holding, brave and stalwart and stubborn as an angry wookie. Anakin could feel their courage, melding seamlessly with Master Rancisis’ battle meditation technique, making them stronger, more accurate, confident and daring.

He himself could feel the effects. He should be exhausted, he should be breathing hard. But he wasn’t. The technique and the adrenaline and the knowledge that his friends, his padawan, even his family needed him to hold this place drove away all the aches and pains, all the minor wounds and exhausted muscles.

He couldn’t afford to fail, so he simply wouldn’t.

It was just that simple.

But droids didn’t feel fear either.

Battle meditation worked by encouraging your army and demoralizing the other. Making them break. Making them falter.

Droids didn’t care.

Ten droids died for every clone. But those were losses these soulless machines were willing to take without even batting a proverbial eyelash marching forward with implacable surefootedness and ceaseless discharges from their rifles.

Anakin himself had torn apart and sliced open hundreds by now. His blade rising and falling, rising and falling.

But they just kept coming.

It was a sea of metal in front of him Rex howled, pointing towards the wall-

“Scorpenek!”

The droid, little more than twin guns mounted on long, spider like legs, climbed over the ruins of the battlements, its heavy guns glowing cherry red already as it fired. More of its fellows ascending along the length of the fortifications.

He’d heard of these things.

Just one was apparently enough to wipe out a brigade.

He counted five.

“Rex!” He called. “We have to bring it d-”

“Jedi General- found”

The words brought him up short, and he turned, finding the droid staring with its single eye directly at him, its guns beginning to charge.

Its eye pulsed with red light, and Anakin felt a very real chill crawl down his spine; a tremor in the force, warning him.

Something was coming.

Anakin’s mind stuttered for a moment; indecision warring within him before he quickly made his choice.

He was never one for defense.

“Cover me!” He demanded.

Rex, very clearly caught off guard by the sudden command, barely had time to squawk out a startled “Cover what?” before Anakin took off like a rocket, straight towards the Scorpenek. “GENER- Bloody hell COVER THE GENERAL!”

The absolute deluge of blaster fire that followed after and around him, damn near tore a clean line straight towards the Scorpenek droid; only a handful of the more heavily armored B-2’s surviving the sudden onslaught..

The Scorpenek fired a charged shot that would never be blocked by a saber the corruscating, crackling bolt of supercharged plasma rushing through the air, directly towards him.

He reached with the Force, all his power focusing for a brief instant on grasping and holding the high powered bolts in mid flight as he dropped to the floor, sliding under the shots feeling the heat of them through his clothes and on his skin before he slid past them.

Releasing his telekinetic hold, the blasts hit the duracrete floor, exploding behind him. The concussive wave rippled out knocking the air out of him and sending him tumbling forward in an uncontrolled roll.

The droid began to charge a second shot and Anakin reached the first of the B-2’s, slicing off its arm, the wrist mounted blaster falling uselessly to the floor as he gripped the droids domed top, fingers digging into the metal as he hoisted it between himself and the Scorpenek droid.

His lightsaber flashed, deflecting a handful of bolts back into another droid before he threw his saber like a lance, plunging it into a third B-2 droid’s face before he hurled the B-2 in his grip with a powerful telekenetic shove straight at the Scorpenek’s bloody red eye

With a terrible crash of steel striking steel the B-2 droid smashed into the lens, its body breaking apart with the sheer power of Anakin’s force push on impact and the eye lens cracking and sparking as the Scorpenek staggered back, its charged shots going wide into the air, exploding somewhere in the distance far behind him.

The Jedi Knight leapt.

He flew through the air reaching with the Force to yank his blade back into his hand, the hilt falling into his palm at the height of his jump, just in time for him to plunge the blade into the massive walker droid’s eye.

The machine thrashed, almost like a living beast, trying to throw him off but Anakin gripped onto its chassis with his one free hand, twisting and slashing the blade deep inside its systems with all of his strength, manipulating the Force around him to tip the droid onto its side, making certain it wouldn’t land on him and crush him to death. (stupid way to die).

A shot sailed through the air and Anakin twisted his saber barely catching the bolt before it tore into his ribs.

A second shot and a third, then a fourth, from multiple droids as they focused on him.

Then his blade was a blur in the air infront of him, sliding seamlessly into Soresu, trying to regain his footing and equilibrium.

There was a blaring of binary- the sound driving a spike almost directly into his brain.

The warning in the force bloomed, taking shape and form in his mind.

He heard the familiar snap hiss as a shadow fell over him.

Anakin began to turn, his mind on the storm of blaster fire infront of him, but his eyes trying to find the threat rushing in from the side.

“GENERAL!”

Something smashed into his back, knocking the wind out of him, two arms coiled around his waist, and the sound of jump jets howled in his ears.

The world spun and whirled, too fast for him to adjust himself, he lost track of up, down, left and right before he and his rescuer slammed hard into the ground.

Anakin sucked down a breath, struggling to get air back into his lungs. “Th-thanks troo-”

He stopped.

The trooper that had rushed to his rescue lay still and unmoving, several blaster holes seared into the back of his armor.

He was dead…

Dead rescuing Anakin.

He didn’t have time to dwell on this, his failure, his responsibility- before another burst of binary sound stabbed into his mind and it was more pure instinct that had him raise his blade.

And his blue saber cracked against a searing red saber.

His eyes went wide, and he shoved a wave of Force energy exploding off of body to send droids and clones reeling all around him, his attacker thrown several meters before smashing into the remains of a destroyed heavy weapon platform nearby as Anakin turned to face the thing fully.

It was a droid a model. One he’d never seen before. It recovered quickly, its movements an odd, unnerving mixture of unnaturally graceful and inhumanly… twitchy. As though its programming didn’t quite know how to move, even as it lit the second blade in its hand, eying him like a hungry animal.

As the droids and clones recovered around him continuing the desperate fight, Anakin spied three more of the black clad assassins approaching, carving their way through the lines to reach him.

“PROTECT THE GENERAL!” Rex called. “KILL THAT FRAKKIN CLANKER. MAN THAT DOES IT KEEPS THE SABER!”

The men didn’t cheer, but they did rally at Anakin’s side.

—

Taylor

We approached the ‘Parlay’ place. Very literally at the edge of shield range. The five- well… six of us, counting the Crab, sitting inside the protective bubble of the shield; the droid ‘Parlay’ party just outside of it.

We drifted close, and they drifted a bit closer too.

The alien spoke up, his voice emerging oddly through the mechanical box in front of his mouth and chest his voice sounding almost wheezy

“You are…” He sucked down air, almost sounding like it was through a pump. “Jedi Master.” Another breath. “Hebert?”

I thought for a moment trying to lie, and say no. But it wasn’t worth the try. I couldn’t read the tone enough to know if it was rhetorical, and even if it wasn’t; the CIS already knew my face and name.

“That’s right.” I answered.

“May we… enter?”

I felt the clones tense but they remained extremely disciplined in their silence, even if I could feel the answer they wanted me to give.

Still, a compromise could be made easily enough.

“Just you.” I said.

The alien breathed, for several seconds, taking three long drags of his air pump.

“I… am not the negotiator.”

That made me pause. “Pardon?”

The man moved to the droid beside him, what I’d thought was a protocol droid booted up, its ‘blank’ face lighting up with a holo projector to create a flickering image.

After a moment or two, a Munn was shown on the face hologram. Controlling the droid remotely.

The Munn wasn’t as hesitant as his fellow. Probably because he was not physically here, within insect or saber distance.

He smiled. “Ahh… Master Hebert. I’ve been looking forward to making your acquaintance for some time.”

His voice was smooth, calm, and the droid gave me little in the way of bio readings and through the holo sensing the Munn’s emotions was… messy. Jumbled.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage Mr…”

“Tonith” He answered blithely with a knowing smirk. “Pors Tonith.”

I didn’t give anything away through my expression, shunting the reaction into … well. Swarm was an exaggeration. The crabs however, bubbled and frothed under us before I raised my head skyward, towards the fleet still positioning itself in orbit.

“The enemy high commander we’re contending with here.” I noted drolly

“The very same.” He stepped, forward, moving to hop past the shield and onto the crab.

I stretched out my hand, the force halting his forward progress mid step, keeping the machine still in a telekinetic hold.

The Munn raised a questioning brow ridge.

“Your friend I’m sure doesn’t have a bomb strapped to his chest.” I said, lifting and placing the droid back several steps. “Your droid I’m not so sure about.”

He smiled again. “Prudent”

I snorted. Moving to get past the… dick measuring contest- or whatever this was. “What do you want?”

Pors smiled. “Would you believe me if I said it was to meet you.”

“Not really.” I answered curtly. “Big battlefield. Lots of moving parts. CIS has a top down command structure. Emphasis on Top. You’ve probably got a hundred and one problems right now. You’re choosing to make me one of them for a reason and it's not to get an autograph.”

“It's true.” He said with a  laugh that was almost friendly. “You and General Victoria, are quite the pair in my circles. You’ve set many tongues wagging.” He grinned. “The Valiant and the Infernal. They even say you’re lovers. Quite the pair indeed.“

I forced myself to hide my reactions, I didn’t have a swarm here to make it easy. But I had my own fucking self control.

I recognized this tone, this voice. Someone probing for a weakness, a chink in the armor.

Too bad for him. Emma was better at it.

“General-” One of my clones called behind me, hefting his rifle a bit. “Permission to shoot the talking one in the face and then we head back? Last I checked we got things to do.”

That almost brought a laugh out of me.

“Don’t interrupt.” Pors scoffed. “Were you raised in a barn?”

“Nah a tube- did a better job than your barn did tho-”

I heard a snicker from one of his brothers. “Trooper.” I ‘warned’ holding up my hand asking for silence before returning my attention to Pors.

The Munn seemed unbothered by the exchange. He was still staring at me with a smirk. Still oozing confidence. “What a curious thing-” He mused. “To find you here. Very few insects. I doubt you could make a fire.” He laughed. Then, the droid moved, cupping its ‘chin’ “Why- it’s almost as if it was by design. But no.” He laughed mockingly. “Sheer providence surely”

I let him indulge. Let him feel smug.

It was by design. That much was obvious enough.

Just not in the way he thought.

Even so- there was only so much ‘smug’ I could stand when it wasn’t coming from my second favorite blonde (who was honestly better at it anyway) before I had to interrupt, if only to move things along.

“Last chance before I find better ways to waste my time.” I said. “Why are you here?”

Pors smile widened. “Well, I did hope there would be some truth to the rumors of your intelligence, conversation with droids can be so dreadfully dull. But if you won’t indulge me-”

Suddenly, the six B-2’s flickered, their images distorting, revealing a skeletal something as they moved, far faster and far more dexterously than B-2’s should move.

A holo-field.

I wasn’t surprised.

Neither were my men.

The droids lunged, jump jets screaming from their backs and the soles of their feet to let them cross the distance at blinding speed.

Four of the assassin droids lunged for me, the two others for the clones at my flanks.

But what brought us up short, was the snap hiss of lightsabers, before red blades emerged from the hilts grasped in their hands.

—

Vicky:

She roared, her blade slicing through the air so fast it left a trail of cyan blue in its wake, the vulture droid sliced in half as the two pieces sailed past her. She brought up her other arm, the wing of a different droid, held in her ironclad grip, absorbing several more shots from two more vultures as she brandished the thing like a giant, makeshift shield.

Thousands of clones flew, fell and fought around her. Thermal detonators and shaped charges exploding to bring down heavier ships. Rockets and missiles sailing through freezing skies to blast apart droid fighters and drones. Blaster shots and screaming, howling fighters and bombers created a terrible noise as anti-air guns roared down below them.

Her senses flared in warning and she moved back, more blaster shots zipping past her as another warning bloomed in her mind and her blade was reflecting even more shots back at the attacker, the vulture droid taking a volley of its own attack back into its face. The fuselage bursted into flame, the droid diving in a death spiral, out of control before it smashed into the mountainside.

“GENERAL!” A lieutenant screamed, his voice rising over the clamor and pandemonium of battle as he hovered beside her.

She moved, her giant oversized shield protecting them both from a passing vulture droid before she stretched out her saber hand, blade held with just her pinky and thumb as she reached and grasped.

The Vulture droid stilled in the air mid escape, metal groaning and buckling before it collapsed like a cheap tin can, her power in the Force destroying the machine completely.

“What is it!?” She demanded.

“We just lost contact with forward command!!”

Victoria’s eyes widened in alarm. “What!? Why? Comm jam?”

The Lieutenant shook his head- his voice grave. “No ma’am, comms all working fine, even back to the temple with Central!”

Another Lieutenant rushed to her side, the colored stripe on his pauldron a bold red color, announcing he was from third brigade

The Lieutenant panted. “There’s too many of them, we’re running out of ammo, men are tiring and the anti-air guns are starting to overheat! We have to fall back!”

“They’ll land an army on these cliffs!” She protested a second before she had to move the shield again to protect all three of them, this time a missile striking and tearing apart the shield in her hand. Her hair caught in the wind, the jetpacks of her two clones sputtering in their struggle to keep the two men aloft.

She howled in frustrated rage, throwing the soccer ball sized remains of the shield at the heavy gunship that had destroyed her potential trophy- ripping a hole clean through til she could see out the other side

“They’re already gonna land the army!” The red-striped Lieutenant said. “Our job now is to make sure you’re there to meet it when they do!”

With a grunt she threw her blade, the lightsaber spinning like a blue disc in the air as it sliced through the two wings of a  descending dropship, the massive behemoth listing to the side to join its destroyed brethren with a tremendous explosion before she recalled the sword.

“Forward command. Come in. This Is CT-5009822. Under the command of Jedi General Dallon, we need you to respond now!

“Come on, ma’am!” The Lieutenant.

Vicky listened to the two men; their voices adding to the chaos of battle as she blinked, her cybernetic eye’s vision shifting to a tactical readout.

The third brigade LT was right. Casualties were mounting and while they’d reaped a bloody tally on the droids, no doubt assisted by Master Rancisis battle meditation, it wasn’t enough to win.

And without forward command…

Either she gave ground now, or she’d lose the whole battalion.

“Send the order!” She barked towards the red striped clone,  “Tactical withdrawal! We’re falling back to the temple grounds!” She said. “We hold there, groundside, with the reserves.”

“Aye, ma’am.” He nodded, his hand rising to activate his comlink by his helmet’s ear. “All units! Fall back! Fall back to rally point Ekreth!”

Wheeling around to the other she  tapped him on the shoulder. “You, four more men- with me, we’ve got to find out what the hell is up with Forward command!”

“Aye General!”

She flew away and after a moment she could see, hear and feel her Clones disengage across the length and breadth of the battle. Thousands of fiery trails rushing away through the white and gray skies of Illum towards the Temple grounds.

She descended like a lance thrown from the sky, five clones forming up behind her, following her like a flock of birds as they descended towards the pre-fab bunker.

As she drew close, her organic eye closed, cybernetics filtering through optical enhancements.

It's what let her spot the blood spattered across the Command center window and the white armored body, half buried in the snow, long before any of the clones could.

Her organic eye opened, both going a bit wide before she sped up, nearly leaving the clones behind her in the proverbial dust before she touched down.

The door was already opened, and the carnage inside was and outside was now obvious.

The clone comm and command staff were dead- it hadn’t even looked like they’d had time to draw weapons.

The four Clones landed behind her, weapons drawn. She couldn’t see their faces but she could damn well imagine them.

“LT-” She said, pausing just for a moment. “Contact Rancisis. If you can’t reach him, Noble Team’s commander Guelzo.”

“Message?” He asked, his voice all business and urgency.

“Infiltrators made it through our northern line. They’re loose inside the temple!”

“Ma’am.” Another of the clones spoke with a grim dread. “Those wounds-”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “They were made by a Lightsaber.”

—

Weber

“Move! Move!” Prachett barked towards the Battalion he and Orwell would be leading towards Cere and Unduli.

Weber, General Taylor’s personal scout, took his job seriously.

He, like the rest of his brothers in Noble Squad, were in command of the reserves.

They volunteered.

Because there wasn’t anyone better for it.

It wasn’t a job they wanted. It wasn’t a job they were comfortable with. But it needed doing. And they’d do it.

Because General Hebert asked them to. She asked them, in her own way, to protect the lil shiny generals.

He understood that. They all understood that.

And so, when Guelzo’s comm rang with a priority hail and they heard an update from the front- he knew the situation had changed.

“Say again General Dallon; please confirm.” Guelzo demanded

“You heard me, Guelzo. Someone got past us. Not sure who. Probably an infiltration force of some kind. They have to be going for Master Rancisis or sabotage targets like the shield generators. I can’t chase em. It's on you guys.”

He and his brothers shared a look. An entire conversation passed wordlessly between him, Guelzo, Cid and Asimov.

It took barely a second for Guelzo to decide.

“Cid, Weber. Head upstairs to the Padawans and Master Rancisis. Take ten brothers. Guard em.”

Weber understood. He agreed. But he had to ask- “What about our command?”

Guelzo shook his head. “If we’ve got infiltrators, your reserve battalion is committed here til further notice, if need be, ours too. We need to guard the shield generators, the comm relays, the command centers. I’ll distribute them to those areas. They need to be held.”

“They’re all shinies.” Cid reminded.

“So were we.” Asimov countered grimly. “They’ll have to learn like we did.”

“They don’t have much of a command structure-”

“Well they’ll have to make one!” Their Squad Commander barked. “Get to the Padawans.” Guelzo ordered, and it was an order. “Protect em’.”

Weber, and his other two brothers very deliberately did not comment on the omission of Master Rancisis in that order.

Regardless, the order was given and both of them nodded, grabbing their weapons before heading out, Guelzo and Asimov remaining to relay fresh orders to the individual brigades.

Marching out the door, it didn’t take em long to find suitable “Squadmates” for the job, a handful of shinies just waiting for dispatch orders.

Well, they were about to get em.

“You lot-” Cid barked. “Ten of you, volunteer or be volunteered; you’re coming with us.”

Not as… informative as Weber would have liked, but the ten troopers immediately scrambled to ready up, helmets going onto heads, rifles in hand and grenades at the ready.

“What’s goin on sir?” One of the men asked.

“Infiltration unit got past the northern line.” Weber answered as succinctly as possible. “Battalion's being deployed on search and destroy pattern along with guard duty. You all get to come with us. Guarding VIP’s.”

“Yes sir. Understood.”

‘They got past General Dallon?’

The question was whispered, a shocked sort of dismay in the shinie’s voice.

“Let’s move.” Cid barked, ushering them to follow.

They ascended the temple, riding the lift, and even then he and Cid were already checking their corners, flickering through the displays on their helmet sensors.

The shinies picked up on it, following their example fast enough

General Hebert wasn’t here to do it for them.

Even so, they made it to the upper echelons of the temple without incident.

The elevator doors opened, allowing them into the ante-chamber that led to the Council rooms.

Six startled Padawans turned to them.

“No, I think it’s- Hmm?” Little Ahsoka, Skywalker’s Padawan stopped talking on her call as they entered.

“Weber? Cid?” Karla asked, standing up. “What’s going on?”

He smiled at the red skinned Twilek girl. Even though she couldn’t see it through his helm, she could usually tell when he did it anyway.

“Might have a bit of a situation lil General.” He said. “We’re handling it- but better safe than sorry yeah?”

She frowned, and the other children each shared a look. He didn’t have to be a force sensitive to tell it carried very real unease.

“Please Trooper Weber-” Barris spoke, her voice polite, but firm. “-Be specific.”

Weber would rather not scare them-

Luckily, Cid was a bit more blunt than he was.

“Infiltrators have gotten past General Dallon.” His brother said. “We’re here to-”

His brother stopped, rounding on Weber and leveling his gun point blank at the scout.

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, confusion warring within and then Cid’s shotgun *barked*.

He was almost convinced he was dead, the pellets passing so close he *felt* them scrape off the side of his helmet and shoulder before something behind him was hit, the telltale sound of rent metal making him whirl to face whatever his brother had shot.

It was a droid- black armored and ghoulish its face a now shattered skull where the scatter-shot pellets had torn it open- its holo-field flickering like a dying light bulb.

The sound of six lightsabers flared to life, the side of the room with the children awash in color, some of them screamed, shocked, surprised, scared.

Another scream this time by the room’s entrance two of the shinies.

Cid shot again- the shotgun barking by Weber’s ear, his helmet’s audio filters barely lowering it enough so he wasn’t outright deaf.

The droid moved, unnatural, its body jerking, avoiding the worst of the damage before it fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Another scream and this time he whirled to face it- trusting Cid to take out the one he’d shot.

He saw three more of the droids, they were tearing into the shinies; the two he’d heard before were already joined by three more, torn open by lightsabers.

Iskt and Kestis rushed forward the younger girls frozen behind them in the indecision of fight or flight.

Twin blue swords crashed against red ones and the droids moved with preternatural speed, putting the two on the backfoot early, Webber pulled his pistol, firing with pin point accuracy; making the droids stumble and falter, letting the boys back off to gain some breathing room.

Weber’s own situation wasn’t much better though, bringing his arm up to block a swing aimed at his throat; the Beskar vambrace taking the blade of the third droid as the remaining shinies finally formed a loose firing line and opened up, careful not to hit the Padawans even in the midst of the melee.

Weber then felt his throat constrict-

His chest jerked for air that would not come, the instinctive panic welled and nearly bloomed for a moment before he tamped it down- they’d trained for this.

His eyes darted this way and that way, even as he brought his pistol up to shoot the attacking droid in the face, searching for the culprit.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” One of the girls screamed, and a wave of what he could only assume was the Force rippled outward, driving the droids back, giving them some breathing room, even as he felt the air flow return, hacking and coughing to clear his previously constricted airway.

He saw someone else, not human. Not droid. His saber was purple, his skin a dull, rusted red.

“M-master Cirvan!?” He recognized Barris’ voice and the horror in it.

The Sith, or whatever he was did not react to being recognized. “You’re in my way..”

“Damn right we are” Cid snarled, his shotgun barking once more, signaling the death of one of these faux, Jedi droids as his brother reached down and picked up the Lightsaber in its hand, tossing it to Weber who barely caught it before his Brother grabbed the second.

Only Jedi were supposed to use Sabers.

Right now he found he didn’t care much for that suggestion.

The blade snapped to life in his hand.

—

Taylor

“Do you like our prototypes?” Pors asked , loudly speaking over the sound of blasters and humming saber blades. “The EG-5 Jedi Hunter droids Top of the line of the Confederacy’s engineering!”

The red blades whipped out to slice me to pieces, lightning fast. Droid precision making it so none of the four that came for me got in each other's way as they swallowed the distance too fast for the clones to properly react.

Thing is- I could move too.

Or more specifically, my ride could.

The crab reeled back, pulling us away for those precious few feet to give the clones the extra second they needed to properly get their bearings, one of its four pincers snatching one of the droids out of the air before bisecting it in two, the crushing power of what may as well have been the equivalent of an industrial clamp tearing its rigid steel skeleton apart.

The clones started shooting.

The droid blades moved like red quicksilver, deflecting blaster bolts with sharp, jerking movements, using the speed of high end servo motors and brute force calculations to mimic the Jedi’s senses in the force.

Still, I could see it, the split second delay that told me they couldn’t keep up with the volume of fire headed their way. The two that were distracting my clones were just that, distractions. Not threats. The clones were better than droids.

As long as I did my part.

The first of the droids finally managed to reach me, scrambling up “Mr. Crabs” face as clawed toes scratched gouges into the shell for purchase.

My own gold blade caught his saber, intercepting it, pushing the wild slash over my head and into his fellow droid approaching me from the right-

Which brought another surprise.

The red blade didn’t carve through metal and wiring.

It didn’t even stop as it would if it’d slammed into Beskar.

Instead, the lightsaber blade flickered, the hilt itself sparking and exploding in what looked like a blown out fuse.

Suddenly, I yanked my own blade back, not wanting my Saber to spark and die like the red one had as the other two droids still lunged for me at my left and right.

“Oh, did I forget to mention the Cortosis coating over their frames? Cost a fortune really.

I ducked and weaved, one blade passing overhead, another just barely missing my ribs, the third and fourth avoided with a twirling, spinning leap before my force shove bought me some breathing room before the assassin droid jump jets activated to compensate again to not allow me the luxury of time to gather myself.

I backed away, aware that I was rapidly reaching the edge of the platform that was the top of the Crab’s skull. As I did, my mind searched for an answer, before I realized one very large, very obvious difference between these droids and an actual Jedi.

“Did it really not occur to you that you were sent to this planet to die? Jedi?” Pors demanded, his voice sounding almost incredulous. “Honestly the tactical insignificance of this attack always baffled me beyond the morale implications for your order; but seeing you and of course the others brought here. I can se why I was sent here to kill yo-”

He stopped, realizing, as he turned his attention back to the scene infront of him, away from whatever distraction was on his bridge- that I was neither dead.

Nor in danger.

The droids strained where they stood their limbs shaking, bodies shivering. I could see the camera lenses in their eyeballs practically trembling inside those red orbs, almost hatefully as they tried to reach me. To fulfill their purpose.

Still- the Force held them still.

THey weren’t force sensitive. They had no way to fight back.

I stared past the droids, towards the visibly shocked Pors.

“You don’t get it yet.” I said. My features were placid, but my voice held the contempt and disdain I didn’t let show.

“You weren’t sent here to kill us-:” I said, over the sound of straining metal. My fist began to close- panels buckled, bolts and screws snapping firing off like bullets as the clones watched the trembling droids infront of them.

I marched closer, the tension in my hand visible, but controlled as the droids rose, unmoving into the air. “You were sent here to gather data.” I sneered. “To test limits…”

There was a trembling in the air, the Force around us reverberating like sound caught in a cage, pulsing almost in time with my own heartbeat, steady and implacable.

My fist finally clenched.

With a sound that could have passed for six simultaneous gunshots the cortosis laced droids crumbled like crushed cans, oil, bursting out of them, some catching fire through the electrical sparks, I was assaulted with the smell of burnt wiring and leaking acid.

I let the droids fall, bodies of twisted metal, looking like genuine corpses; bent, mangled  and broken in shattered pieces.

“He should have sent someone better.” I declared with finality.

But Pors, surprised for the briefest window of time… rallied.

And smiled.

“Very impressive.” He laughed. “I wonder… did those Padawans, so safe in your temple fare much better?”

I can’t tell you what expression I made immediately after his question registered in my mind.

From all the stories that were told and retold later; that’s one part the clones with me never mentioned to anyone; even when asked.

—

Pors Tonith

As his visual was suddenly, and likely violently cut off judging by the fury on the Jedi’s face- Pors allowed the smile to slip from his features. The facade of calm was replaced by steely contemplation.

The Jedi Hunter droid was a prototype, but all tests had indicated they’d be more than a match for even Jedi Masters.

Evidently those test results had been… overstated.

Certainly the “Infernal” Jedi was an exceptional specimen, but here, on Illum. With few insects and little ability to cast fire… it should have been a much more even fight.

He’d deployed six of his available fifteen to that engagement.

He considered, briefly, warning Cirvan that no doubt the Jedi master was on her way- but eliminating Rancisis was a top priority. His skill in battle meditation could not be allowed to remain on the battlefield long term.

If Cirvan died in the attempt well… that was a gamble worth taking.

“Helm-” He called ready to relay fresh orders for his remaining reserves. If Hebert was moving then they needed to take advantage of that thin eastern defensive line while they could.

But then, his sensors bloomed to life.

“Admiral!” A tactical droid called. “Multiple readouts, hyperspace jumps in system.”

“Those can’t be Hyperspace jumps they’re too close!” He declared, a creeping dread beginning to coil up his spine.

But then- reality was oft so much stranger than fiction.

Just as the droid declared, multiple ships, Venators, Acclamators, Consulars, Carrack Light cruisers appeared, for all intents and purposes right on top of his fleet.

“More signals emerging!” The droid called. “Signatures recognized as the fleet that retreated previously!”

“Sir-” A second tactical droid called. “In this formation- they’re pinning our fleet between theirs and the planet. Our retreat window is closing rapidly- we won’t be able to withdraw in approximately thirty seven point two seconds!”

All at once, realization hit him.

They’d set a trap.

The Jedi- had used the lives of their champions, the clones- even their precious temple as bait…

He hadn’t thought they were quite so… pragmatic.

A startled chuckle bubbled up from his throat, mind awhirl in a scramble for plans, tactics.

The fight was no longer limited to the ground war.

And he was no longer guaranteed to win.

Pors kept his calm, taking a moment to drink in the scene now playing out before him, keeping the smile on his face.

“Alright then…” He bit out, leaning forward on his command throne, his mind now alight as he began to scramble together a hasty plan of his own to counter this..

“May the better men win.”

—

As Obi-Wan’s sword fleet slipped out of hyperspace right into the teeth of enemy guns, the “Sith Slayer eyed the enemy flagship, marked in advance by Master Tinn.

“There.” He said firmly, pointing at the holo display. “Prepare boarding parties.”

“Aye General Kenobi.” Commander Cody nodded.

(X)(X)(X)

So I'mma keep it real with all of you, I feel like we would have gotten to the *end* of the battle of Illum by the time we hit this many pages xD

But this battle *legitimately* became far *far* larger than I expected and it got way outa hand... Fitting I suppose, given the subject.

But yea. Next chapter will likely be the end of the battle if I have anything to say about it

Now before anyone asks;

Yes, all of the droids shown here ARE Legends/Canon droids that the CIS developed during the Clone Wars.

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/LM-432_crab_droid/Legends

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/EG-5_Jedi_Hunter_droid

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Scorpenek_annihilator_droid

And LASTLY tomorrow there will be a post for the 3 dollar members detailing 1) What the next piece of artwork is going to be and 2 a more detailed authors note sort of explaining the battle here on Illum in greater detail and the creative process/thinking around it and why its playing out in THIS way. Just a way to reward the three dollar members with some inside knowledge :)

Now- most important question for all of you....

...

Any bets on whether Taylor's gonna show up to make this Sith assassin crab food or BBQ for threatening her kids?