The Weaving Force: Chapter 150

Chapter 150:

You can always tell... you know?

Can't really tell a human apart most days. Sometimes accents give it away. Maybe how they dress but there's no REAL way to tell at a glance where the Human came from. If he's from Corellia, Alderaan, Ord Mantel, or what have ya.

But Coruscant... aye... after the war. You can always tell when a human is from Corruscant.

They say it's the Fire, ya see. The fire they could never get away from.

The fire still chasing them.

Hebert's flames, they call it. You can see it in their eyes. Because they can never unsee a world burning.

Coruscant was, and is, their funeral Pyre.

Scars of the war

Duret, Besalisk Refugee shuttle Captain

6/12, 11:54pm Galactic Standard time

Stas Allie

“BREACH!”

The shout came a second before a blast tore through the eastern wall of the medical ward.

Master Allie was thrown off her feet with the blast, her head cracking against a medical cabinet

She breathed, dust rushed down her throat, smoke stung her eyes, the strobing lights of blaster bolts sailing overhead made her vision swim, she heard people shouting, felt the warm blood trickling down the back of her neck and head.

Lightsabers hissed and hummed as they lit up, spitting flashes of plasma discharges as deflected blaster bolts struck the weapons while she tried to fumble away from the noise, noise meant danger. 

Then, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, grasping at her robe, she tried to pry it off, fingers scratching at armored bracers before she heard. “It’s me General! I’ve got you!”

The clone pulled her back, her legs and ass scraping along the grit and debris covered floor as she was dragged.

Her back hit something solid and cold, she opened her eyes, a medical cart now serving as impromptu cover as the Clone that had rescued her fired back at their enemies.

She took a second to blink away the fog, shaking her head before she dared a glance over the cover.

Coruscanti guards were pouring into the breach, injured clones firing into the choke point, Jedi padawans trying to hold back the tide.

She reached for her lightsaber, the blade igniting, ready to rush into the fray-

Then, it was like a meteor smashed into them.

The line of men that had been advancing was smashed into from behind, and through the haze of dust and gunfire Master Allie couldn’t make out who it was that was fighting for the first seconds.

Then, the clones turned, rounding on this new threat and firing into him.

Blaster bolts bounced harmlessly off of red scales, a snarling visage of teeth and reptile eyes growling with deep vibrations that shook the air.

The boy didn’t even bother using a Lightsaber, fist and claw were his weapons, gouging horrendous rips into armor, cracking skulls against the walls, the force of his punches shattered bones.

One Clone leapt onto his back , vibro knife stabbing down, over and over again into his shoulder and neck, the color of his scales rapidly switching as his fellow clones poured the fire on.

Iskt leapt up.

The Clone on his back was smashed into the ceiling, the entire surface cracking and breaking apart under the sheer force of the leap, blood gushing out of the Trandoshan’s wounds but the man’s broken body flopped off of him as they hit the ground, dying if not dead already.

On all fours, the Padawan charged forward with a roar, looking for all the world like a bloodthirsty beast. The First clone he reached was smashed into the floor under the strength of the boy’s fist, the second had a medical cabinet yanked on top of him, all the equipment and weight crashing over the man before Iskt made it to the third, skull meeting skull in a headbutt that knocked the clone flat, stumbling like a punch drunk fighter before a single claw-tipped kick sent the man crashing to the far wall with bone breaking force. 

The hallway fell silent, Legionnaire clones still holding their weapons, Jedi Knights and Padawans staring at the panting boy, Allie managed to find whatever dregs of strength she had in her, standing up and holding onto the edge of the medical cart for support as her head spun with vertigo.

“Easy, General.” The clone beside her said, hovering in worry. 

“Padawan Iskt.” She said, her mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton.

The boy turned his head, crocodilian eyes almost shining with refracting light before he stepped out of the dust. “Master Allie.”

“Where is Karla?” She asked. She knew that wherever Iskt was, Karla was never far behind, and vice versa.

“Here, Master.”

The voice came from her left and the Jedi healer jumped in startled fright, turning and glaring at the girl, ready to reprimand her because now was not the time for pranks when she realized something.

Hovering in front of the Twi’lek girl, as though it were being held there by telekenisis, one of those Black shards she’d heard about through the comms.

“Why did you bring that here!?” She asked Iskt marching up behind her “It could be a weapon of some kind.”

“It was already here.” The girl said, “There’s three more nearby-” She squinted, seemingly examining the device.

Allie wanted to ask, wanted to push for more answers but there wasn’t time, already she could hear more fighting through the halls, drawing closer, if the Coruscanti guard were breaching this far they couldn’t leave the wounded here. 

“Padawan-” She called, looking to Iskt, a guilt gnawed at her insides, knowing that under no reasonable world, no proper order of events should she ever be asking this of a Padawan but… he was one of the only ones that could do what they needed. “I need more time.” She pleaded. “If they reach the medical wing-”

The Trandoshan nodded, red scales reflecting the overhead lights. “They won’t make it past me Master.” He looked to Karla. “I’ll give you all the room you need to work.” 

The little Twi’lek looked over her shoulder, nodding once, Allie didn’t know what the two of them were on about bu-

She went still.

She wasn’t the only one.

In that instant, across the whole of the temple, every Jedi seemed to stop, and the dawning horror, across all of them, from the youngest Knight to the greatest Master was universal.

Some began to cry, falling into despair, inconsolable in their shock even as their Clones tried to drag them to safety, others flew into a rage, charging into suicidal assaults against droids or clones, others remained stock still, almost catatonic, staring blankly wherever the feeling had struck them.

It was here that every Jedi on Coruscant knew the truth. Felt it deep within.

Allie felt the tears well up in her eyes, dripping down her cheeks before falling in droplets off of her trembling chin. 

‘Please no… not… not… Master Yoda…

—

Dennis:

He could hear blaster fire pelting off the Stalker’s hull like raindrops on metal sheeting. “Fast drop.” He warned. “Vultures are already closing in. Door opens, we jump, got it!?

The Clones cocked their rifles and secured their helmets.

Dennis had never seen Clone Commandos before, now he was gonna see if three squads of them could get the job done.

The ship wheeled, the full momentum nearly throwing him and everyone else forward if they didn’t brace themselves, if he were to guess, Rugess had just done a sharp U-turn that would have sheared any other ship in half without him behind the wheel.

Either way, he didn’t have time to think about it as the bay doors opened wide like a yawning mouth, letting them see the army of battle droids waiting for them. 

“GO GO GO!” One of the Commando’s shouted and then they were all leaping from the cargo bay droid blaster bolts zipping past them or cracking off of armor plates.

Dennis ran forward, Ventress’ arm coiling around his waist before they followed.

The clones opened up crates, dropping a carpet bomb of ion grenades on the mob.

Blue lightning discharges bathed the courtyard grounds, Clone jump packs howled to slow their fall and with a crack of Boots on concrete the men touched down and sprinted towards the Shield generator complex. 

Dennis' own feet touched down a moment later, the impact rattling up his legs and spine. “Ahh fuck my knees are gonna feel that later.” He grunted as he pulled free his Blaster.

“You’re not that old!” Ventress snapped, detangling herself from him before running forward, Lightsabers igniting. 

Then, Maul came down like a ten ton brick shit house.

Whether it was because the Zabrak had metal legs, a lot of anger issues, daddy issues, or everything in between, the red and black skinned monster practically catapulted himself from the accelerating ship straight into the building itself, crashing through one of the side windows, Dennis didn’t envy whatever soon to be mangled everything that got in his way.

He rushed after the clones, who were already exchanging fire with the B-2 droids in the hall, trying to tear through the defenders as quickly as possible to get to the control room. 

Then, he heard the snap hiss of lightsabers and two frontmost clones were cut down.

Dennis' heart dropped, believing for a second that Maul had turned on them, before the silhouette revealed that it absolutely was not Maul as the woman rushed headlong into the Clones.

Blaster rifles fired, jump packs burst as the Clones rushed to gain some distance, and then Ventress placed herself between Dennis and the onrushing threat. 

He moved to level his blaster, drawing a bead on the silver haired Sith-

Then a shot cracked into his gun, twisting his fingers as it sent the weapon flying out of his hand, Dennis cursed, pain radiating out of his hand as he dove into cover. 

“Ori'ramikad” The shout brought his eyes up, towards the roof of the complex where a Mandalorian with a sniper rifle and green armor had barked out the words.

Then three more Mandalorians crawled out of the woodwork.

“Engage!” The Commando’s barked before all hell broke loose.

Dennis ducked into cover, a shot nearly taking his head off.

He had to get rid of that sniper.

—

Aras

This situation… was not good.

The Duchess’ royal guard, himself included, had come here with full battle gear.

But full battle gear did not equip six men to fight an army.

And it looked like the whole damn army is what they were going to have to fight through.

The Clones had formed a cordon around the Rotunda, and for all their inexperience the Guard were not stupid, they knew that tunnels ran underneath the structure and had dispatched battalions to secure them.

And so here they were, bogged down in a narrow death trap, a blockade of men in front and if they stayed for much longer, they would soon be surrounded by whoever came up behind them.

There was an answering burst of fire from Imrir, one of the royal guards huddled beside Organa, before he ducked back into cover to avoid the hail of blaster bolts that pelted his position. “I’m about down to coarse language, brothers.” The man grunted the readout of his rifle’s power cell flashing red. 

Behind him, he felt Hannah tap his shoulder. “Brace!” She shouted, voice crackling over the com.

He didn’t need to be told twice, and his fellow guards followed his example before Obi-Wan and Captain Cadera shielded the duchess with their own bodies.

The green energy warped and twisted as Aras watched it, wondering what she was about to make before the Tunnel was suddenly dominated by a massive tripod cannon, a line with a firing pin going from the weapon to Hannah’s clenched fist. 

Aras heard the panic in the clones, one of them ordering the heavy weapons to fire; but he knew it was too late.

“Fire in the Hole!” She yanked.

The canon roared and the blast that rocked the tripod back several inches kicked Aras in the chest with the concussive force. The sound was deafening, it hurt his ears and he heard the Duchess and her Senatorial allies scream at the shock of pain.

The explosion at the other end of the hall was louder still, and before the shockwave was truly over, Kenobi leapt out of cover, saber lit as he charged and Aras followed right behind him, drawing his greatsword and hearing Hanah following behind him.

The smoke was thick, and his Helmet sensors could see the clones dazed and almost struck dumb, trying to get to their feet, some stumbling and shambling in their confusion.

Obi-Wan thrust his hand forward and the invisible telekinetic energy shoved the black smoke out of the way, letting him see unobstructed before the Jedi Master vaulted over the barricades and dove into the disorganized mob.

Men screamed as saber blade cut into them, blaster fire renewed in panicked, harried urgency, Aras activated his jump pack, closing the last of the distance between himself and the Barricade, smashing his full weight and strength into a Clone commander that had been lining up a shot into Kenobi’s back, shattering armor and bones under the force of the impact as he drew his blaster pistol and fired thrice into the commander’s skull, holstering it again before charging with drawn blade towards the next clone. 

The trooper was caught off guard but didn’t hesitate, launching himself with vibro knife and blaster pistol in hand.

He shot twice and Aras trusted his armor to take the blows, both bolts pinging off his helmet as he swung the blade, the Clone catching the swing with his pistol, hooking it between the trigger guard and the underside of the barrel, Aras would have been impressed in any other circumstance.

At the moment, he didn’t have time to be impressed.

He drove forward, and the uneven, broken ground left by Hannah’s earlier blast made the white armored clone stumble before he could try to stab Aras with his vibro knife, trying desperately to keep his feet under him before Aras brought one foot up and stomped it down on the side of the Clone’s knee.

The unstable footing, the backward momentum and now, the sheer weight and power of the blow, snapped the limb like a collection of matchsticks. The Clone screamed, howling in pain before Aras swung his blade, finding the space between helmet and torso armor to sever the man’s head, cutting off the sound with an abrupt, wet slice.

Aras heard the bark of Hannah’s weapon behind him, bullets ripping through  more men, bloody flowers blooming across their bodies. 

He heard more clones rushing through the connecting corridor, an armored column meant to reinforce their besieged siblings and overwhelm them.

He looked, searching and found one of the flame troopers half buried under the rubble, meant for tunnel fighting- his BTX=42 flamethrower still intact and its hose attached.

He ran for the clone, mag locking his sword onto his back as one hand grabbed the weapon, and the other the dead trooper.

He grabbed hold of the man by the front of his armor, lifting him like a heavy suitcase as he walked to the clone’s available entryway. Tossing the heavy package just infront as he took proper hold of the flamer.

The doors opened, and the front rows of rushing clones were bathed in fire. 

He always hated the smell of burning flesh.

A grenade was tossed out of the door.

Before it even finished arcing through the air, it stopped, hovering in place for a split second before it was thrown right back in.

The shouted screams of warning and panic were suddenly cut off as the blast went off, sending a backblast of flame onto the massive Mandalorian, but he still didn’t dare pull back to give the Clones any further openings.

“DROIDS!”

The scream had him snapping his gaze to his left, finger still on the trigger, watching as a dozen Droideka’s rolled down the winding tunnel straight towards them.

A flash of green and a heavy ion repeater was blasting down the length of the tunnel, short circuiting the Droideka even as the Clones called to fall back.

“We’ve got to move!” Captain Cadera growled through his helmet comms. “Duchess, Senators, quickly!”

—

Cin Drallig

The Dragon reared up, its warbling cry a warning in and of itself before it darted down, teeth clamping down, shearing men and Jedi in half as its body crushed armor and its whipping tail shattered bone.

“Together!” Cin shouted to the Knights at his back. “Hold it down!”

He thrust his hands forward, a wave of Telekinetic Force strength rippling outwards from his hands, the Knights and Masters behind him adding their strength to his.

The Sithspawn was pushed back, at nearly ten feet tall and double that from nose to tail, the monster was huge by any metric but compared to others Cid had seen already it was small, and even still, he felt its strength as it pushed back,breaking through their combined holds, its tail was a razor whip, lashing out and Cid saw another Jedi’s head ripped clean off his shoulders as the thin tail lashed straight through flesh and cloth like a lightsaber through paper.  

But still, the congregation pushed and pressed, the monster’s movements slowing, letting the Clones fire armor piercing missiles directly into its hide, tearing great bloody chunks of flesh off of its flank and neck in burning fireballs. 

It shrieked, black boiling blood gushing out of the wounds. 

“Keep firing! Keep firing!” A Clone commander shouted at his men as white armored troops desperately reloaded their launchers for another salvo.

The beast’s mouth opened, a cloud of poison belching out of its black maw to blanket the library grounds.

The closest clones tried to back away, their armors sealing to try and prevent the worst of the toxins from getting into their systems, but Cid knew that their filters could only take a handful of seconds under the extremely corrosive gas before armor, muscle and flesh would melt under the necrotic cloud. 

The beast still struggled, still clawed and thrashed, grinding its way forward, tearing through the stacks of blue archives as it tried to reach the Jedi holding it down. 

“MOVE! MOVE! MAKE A HOLE!”

Cin heard the rush of armored boots at his back and dared a quick glance behind him, just in time for him and the Jedi around him to fall under the shadow of the massive AV-7 cannon to be put in place by the Clone crews tugging it. 

The gunner lowered the barrel, taking aim. “Fire in the hole!”.

The canon fired, blasting with all the noise, fury and power its size alluded to it possessing, Cid screamed in pain, covering his ears and practically diving away from the backwash of heat as the repulsorlift anti armor vehicle was thrown back by its own recoil, several Clones struggling to anchor it in place as an improvised brace, preventing the artillery piece from crashing itself through the wall behind them. Tiles underneath the blast’s flight path warped, liquefied and melted, glowing red and white from the heat, and in a flash of blinding white, the Monster was torn apart, half its skull and a good portion of its upper body, completely vanished before the blast smashed through the far temple wall from the other side. 

Utter silence swallowed those that remained in the temple library.

Cin wasn’t sure how long he lay on the floor just… catching his breath, feeling the aches, the pains, even just the static between his bones as he breathed.

But, finally, the Master began pushing himself to his feet.

Others did the same, shambling like living corpses before they gathered themselves, clones collecting weapons, or trying to help their injured brothers.

Cin hadn’t even realized he’d dropped his lightsaber, not until the dull throb of his fingers began to pulse through his empty hand, clenched tight into a shaking fist.

He looked for it, finding it on the floor, near the warped and melted stone. He reached out with the Force, pulling it to his hand, ignoring the pulsing pain boring behind his skull before he reached into his comlink. 

“Master Poof.”

“Battlemaster- readings picked up a tremendous energy discharge near your area. What is your status?”

“The library is cleared.” He breathed. “Lift the lockdown here. This Sithspawn is eliminated.”

“Understood, Lockdown will be lifted, that’s seventh confirmed Spawn kill.”

Seven. Seven out of Force only knew how many. Reports ranged from a dozen to twenty, those… shards, or drones were shielding the monsters, making them utterly undetectable in the Force and with the chaos of the battle, even if the monsters could be ‘contained’ through lockdown, it was fracturing a battleforce that was already straining to the breaking point under the pressure being put on it.

“Battlemaster!”

Cin turned, surprised as he blinked through the dust that threatened to get into his eyes. “Master Dallon?”

The Jedi floated down, feet touching the shattered floors as she cast her eyes over the dead monster. 

Cin Drallig would never say that he was a particularly close friend to Masters Hebert or Dallon, but he would say that he was a friend, and more than that, he was a Battlemaster of the Jedi order, giving him a wealth of experience and the ability to see things others might miss.

And what he saw right now with Dallon, worried him.

The woman was powerful, with Master Yoda, Windu, Skywalker, and Hebert gone, she was likely the strongest Jedi in the temple barring Master Yaddle, but she was not invincible, she was not inexhaustible. 

She held herself with head high, shoulders straight, but he could see it.

The light strain on the lines of her face, the tightness in her grip, the pulse of her neck.

She was tired. He could only imagine the strain put on her, darting from front lines to seal breaches or fortify crumbling defenses and back to the temple to help hunt down these monsters, three of the seven kills of these Hssiss Dragons were hers.

The strain, the pressure… he couldn’t even imagine it.

“There are still more of them-” She said. “We have to clear the main temple thoroughfares on the ground floor, our reserves, if we even have any left-” She hissed the last words out with a snarl “Need to be able to move freely inside.”

He nodded, “I understa-”

A warbling growl echoed around the chamber. 

Cin and Dallon both stiffened where they stood, their heads snapping up towards the ceiling, where baleful red eyes glared back with seething malevolence.

Cin felt the blood draining from his face, leaving him pale with what he knew was fear.

The monster they’d just killed was immense.

This thing was colossal.

It’s body was rippling muscle and steely sinew, its skull alone the size of a LAAT gunship and its tail looked like it could stretch from one end of the immense chamber clear to the other.

How… how had they not sensed it?

How hadn’t they seen it!?

“Recharge damn you!” Cin heard the clone at his back curse no doubt trying to power up the massive canon again.

Dallon shot into the sky, white robes fluttering as she cocked back her fist and punched with the force of a canon.

The beast, impossibly, turned to smoke, a black cloud that roiled and twisted around Master Dallon’s fist, rushing down like a pillar of onyx clouds, flashes of red bursting through its insides before it suddenly rematerialized.

Jedi lightsabers lit, clones began to fire, Cin lit his own blade, ready to try and fight this horror.

Then, the monster moved.

A single claw swipe slashed through the air carving a column of men apart like wheat, behind itself, the monster’s tail whipped through a marble column, sending the whole thing crashing down, even as Jedi and clones tried to get out of the way. It flickered in and out of corporeality, swimming through the sea of blaster fire and lightsabers that tried to tear it apart.

Cid saw the danger, too late.

“Get the can-”

He never finished.

With a wrenching bite the massive cannon was in the beast's jaws, teeth crunching into durasteel.

And then, Cin saw something impossible.

The monster turned, swiveling its head with an unnerving speed and precision.

And pointed that charging cannon straight at the descending Master Dallon.

The surprise on her face was unmistakeable, and it was the last thing Cin saw of her before the blast swallowed her completely.

The heat smashed into him like a physical blow and Cin reached with the Force, pulling at the cannon's stabilizers and coolant valves tearing the mechanisms apart and in a split second, the entire thing exploded right in the beast’s mouth.

He heard its warble of pain.

And then Cin’s chest was peeled open like an overripe fruit.

Blood exploded from his body, coating his vision red, he heard his one time Padawan, Keto, screaming out his name, and that black, deadly tail whip across the air, a bloody trail in its wake.

His vision darkened.

He only heard the beast's howl of pain, and a tremendous crash, he prayed that sound was Master Dallon. She had to be alive. 

If she was alive… then there was still hope. 

It was the last thing he would hear as his Padawan’s desperate calls for his name followed him into darkness.

—

Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan’s arms felt like lead as he moved them.

Every deflected blaster bolt was that less precise, every attack was that much slower, every time he ran it took that much more time to catch his breath.

Between Clones, and droids, he was tiring fast. Greater endurance a Jedi might have, but it was not limitless.

By now the Royal guard was truly out of ammunition, and Bail Organa was actually helping one of their number even walk as injury and exhaustion threatened to leave the man behind.

The only real deterrent they had anymore, were himself, and the massive weaponry available to Hannah Saxon as her power let her conjure up whenever either droids or Clones pressed the attack.

But he knew that wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.

Eventually they would leave these tunnels, and both Clones and droids had their scent now. 

Who knew what they’d bring to bear to finally take them down once they could deploy it.

But the worst of it, the worst of all of it… is what he could feel beyond these walls.

Millions were dying, in pain, and fear and confusion and horror, burning alive under the fires of bombardment, Jedi lives, one by one, were being snuffed out under the relentless tide of blaster fire, knowing, with hopeless despair in their hearts, that they had failed.

And down below them, in the black. The Dark Side just grew.

It grew and grew, like a gaping maw opening wide to swallow the whole world, the entire galaxy.

Obi-Wan tried to focus, he tried to push the despair away but it clawed at him, grasping, lingering hands pawing at his mind, dragging him down closer and closer to that hollow pit, where he knew, no light would ever reach him again.

It was all he could do, to keep placing one foot in front of the other. To keep fighting. To keep trying… and not simply let one of those Blaster bolts slip through.

But he had to keep fighting didn’t he? Had to keep going.

If the whole of the Galaxy fell around him… if every last Jedi was wiped out, if he were utterly alone in the Galaxy… he would still need to keep going, wouldn’t he?

Because anything less was unacceptable.

“Obi-Wan?”

Satine’s voice pulled him back from his dark thoughts, her worried face, telling him that she knew that his inner voice had taken a dark turn, giving him the strength to force a smile on his face. 

“Oh you know me.” His voice carried a glibness he didn’t feel. “I always like to draw things out before I pull off a dramatic rescue of the fair maiden.”

Her features scrunched up, the faintest twitch of her lips hinting at a smile she tried to smother. 

“Best make the dramatic rescue quite a bit faster than you're used to, I think.” She demanded. “A woman dragged through maintenance tunnels for so long might begin to think you’re just making it up as you go.”

He opened his mouth, ready to shoot back with something sufficiently clever when the warning bloomed in the force, sharp, and immediate- Above!

“MOVE!” He warned everyone as he grabbed Satine and ran.

A split second later, a blast sent heat and force and pain into his back, his body shielding hers as he felt something carve into the flesh of his shoulders and legs; sending waves of ripping pain through him before everything went dark.

—

Hannah

The ringing in her ears, the fog in her mind, the pain along her entire body; it was a familiar sensation, a lifetime of flashbangs, assault training, explosions and Endbringers making her accustomed to the body returning to sensation after being rocked by the impact of an explosion. 

Oftentimes she found herself surprised she was even still alive as feeling came back to her.

But alive she was, and a voice that sounded distinctly like Alexandria roared at the back of her mind. 

“If you’re not dead, you can move. So move.”

Her eyes opened, blurring and swimming as she felt her fingers twitch, then her arm, then her legs, every movement sending needles and pinpricks through her limbs and static through her muscles.

Then, someone grabbed her, yanking her up, the whole world spinning before she was slammed chest first into the ground, the air shoved out of her with the impact.

Her mind sharpened, filing itself to a razor blade as all of her training, all of her instincts kicked in, telling her 

You are in danger.

She took in her surroundings, the armored body pressing down onto the small of her back, twisting her arm, the others checking the downed members of the royal guard around them. 

“Sir, I’ve got her! I’ve got Kryze!”

Hannah turned her head, helmet scraping against the tunnel floor 

Their attackers were Mandalorians.

Bail was bleeding from a head wound, blood pouring down the side of his face, but even so he was all but physically trying to place himself between Mothma and their ambushers, Imrir was being pinned to the ground and Captain Cadera… Captain Cadera had a shard of rebar jutting out of his neck.

Then, her eyes singled out one in the group, one wearing the trappings of Vizsla. 

Pre.

The man was standing over her husband.

Hannah felt herself go still.

Clear across the crowd, at the other side of the blast zone, Satine was holding onto a bleeding, unconscious Obi-Wan, glaring with all the fire and hate in her being through the window of her eyes onto the Death Watch that surrounded them.

But Pre kept his eyes fixed on Hannah’s husband. 

Her husband. who was unconscious and defenseless… because she would not accept him being dead.

She didn’t know what Pre was thinking, what he was contemplating or planning, and she didn’t care. 

The words were out of her mouth without even thinking.

“Geroya be Haran, Mand’alor”

The Man’do’a slipped free with the barest hint of an accent and every Mandalorian rounded on her, the one at her back cracking his rifle into the back of her skull, rattling her head inside the helmet, cursing and spitting venom at her back as he pressed the rifle into the back of her neck, the place with no armor. 

If he pulled that trigger, she’d likely be dead before she even registered the heat.

She glared at Vizsla, her voice snarling through the helmet speakers. “I challenge you, Mandalore.”

“Dar’manda Schutta.” She definitely understood those words, and the hissed demand of ‘Let me kill her’ right after wasn’t far behind. 

“And what makes you think you have the right to challenge me?” Pre laughed. “You are no true Mandalorian!”

“Then I challenge you!”

The voice once again, made all Mandalorians turn, and the one who it belonged to, was none other than Satine Kryze.

The woman set Obi-Wan’s head down, scarlet blood staining her hands and dress as she stood, glaring at Pre Vizsla with all of her pent up rage and hate and bile left in her. “I choose Hannah Saxon as my second!”

There were laughs and sneering jeers all round, cocked and charging rifles as Pre snorted. “Truly; you’d even disgrace the ancient challenge of Geroya Be Haran; is nothing of our history sacred to you Kryze-”

“You bring disgrace on it!” She snarled. “Those who are challenged for the position of Mandalore must answer that challenge and yet you, in your cowardice, try to sidestep it. Claiming one who’s already undergone Dai-Bal-Manda and has even slain a Sith as Beroya-Dar-Jetii is somehow unworthy. It's not her worth in question, or her courage, it is yours!” She stepped forward, right into the middle of the cordon of men that now surrounded the two leaders. 

For all that their rifles were fixed on her, they might as well have been flowers in a field with how little she even looked at them, all but snarling at the man’s faceless helmet lips curled back in wrath and rage. “If I must use this rite of all rites to finally submit you to a position where even the barest shreds of any remaining shame you have to your name can hold you against the overwhelming nature that is your cowardice and hypocrisy, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. So, accept my challenge, Mand’alor!”

“Or shoot us all and prove yourself unworthy of the blade at your hip like we all know ya are!’ Imrir spat from his place on the floor, held down and at the mercy of Mandalorians, the same as Hannah was.

The silence was heavy enough to suffocate them, Hannah felt the barrel still pressing into the back of her neck, cloying fear churning her stomach even as she tried to think of some backup plan, some way out if the man didn’t play their game.

“Gedeteyar”

The barrel was lifted off her neck.

A second later, the weight was pulled off too.

Slowly, carefully, she straightened out her twisted arm first, pushing herself up onto her knees next.

The Death Watch dragged the corpses… and those unconscious away, giving them space. She quickly counted sixteen men and women.

Sixteen enemies, and Pre-Vizsla.

If she had to kill them all… well…

I’ve had worse odds. She thought, the green energy flickering into a knife in her hand as Pre pulled free… a lightsaber hilt.

The blade that emerged was midnight black.

—

Ramah

The rifle kicked as he pulled the trigger, his shot cracking into a shoulder as the Clone whirled around with the impact, faceplanting into the floor, disoriented, not dead. He adjusted his aim, and this time when the weapon kicked, it was the back of the Clone’s head that popped open in a charred, black hole.

He heard a howl screeching rage sending a chill down his spine as he looked straight down, just in time to see another Lightsaber wielder lunge out of the inside of the building, a red saber staff nearly taking Komari’s head as she ducked under the blow.

He’d seen enough fights to know when someone was on the back foot, when a fight had suddenly swung against them. She’d been in control against the Rattataki, this new one was too much.

He adjusted his aim again.

When he shot, he could have accepted almost any outcome. A hit, certainly, a miss, though that didn’t happen often, even a dodge. Jedi were tricky targets, after all.

What he didn’t expect, was for the Red and black Zabrak to grab hold of Komari’s wrist and yank her, into the path of Ramah’s shot, her being saved only by her free saber blocking the bolt at the last second before wheeling around with a kick that cracked into Maul’s head in a display of flexibility that would leave damn near anyone else envious.

Clones and his Mandalorians kept exchanging fire across the courtyard, and Komari kept retreating, kept backpedaling as both lightsaber wielders focused solely on her.

If the red Zabrak was a problem, time to take out the Rattataki instead.

Then, he heard footsteps of boots crunching on gravel… right behind him. 

He whirled around, drawing his IB-94 barely even catching a glimpse of what looked like some civilian running at him before he pulled the trigger.

The man dodged, ducking to the left, red bolt sizzling past his temple before he slapped the gun aside, and slammed his shoulder into the Mandalorian’s ribs.

Somehow the gun was ripped right out of his hands, like it was suddenly stuck in duracrete, his back slammed into the rooftops edge and he put his rifle between himself and the civilian, trying to use it as a temporary defense, only for the man to slam down with all his weight on the thing, and then… it froze.

No matter what he did, how much force he used, his rifle wouldn’t move, even after the man got completely off of him, his weapon was now imprisoning him against the edge of the roof. 

The… whatever he was, drew his own blaster pistol, taking aim right at the underside of Ramah’s helmet, at his neck.

His torso might have been trapped, but his arms weren’t.

Jerking his arm around the obstruction, he spat out a gout of flame with the wrist mounted flamer, the Man backing away with a hiss.

Two, three steps.

It would have to be enough.

Another adjustment and he prayed his awkward angle didn’t throw off his aim as a single miniature rocket shrieked out towards the floor behind the stranger.

The explosion’s concussive force hit him like a  full bodied blow, the blast of fire, dust and debris swallowing up the stranger before the shaking ground gave way, cracking open like an egg.

And the man was still standing.

Ramah felt his heart lurch, skipping a beat before he realized the stranger wasn’t moving, an unnatural stillness to his whole body.

He might not have been dead, but the opportunity was still an opportunity and he used every spare moment to wriggle and struggle as best he could to get free, his armor scraping and grinding between metal plated rooftop edge and his own weapon as he slid down down down and finally, grinding his head and helmet free, under the rifle.

Right then, the man started moving again.

Like a droid with its restraining bolt yanked off, he went from nothing to a full on sprint with zero warning, his armored knee rocketing forward to crack into the armored temple of the Mandalorian’s helmet ringing his bell as the whiplash smacked him against the rooftop wall.

By the second blow, the sniper had his bearings, arms catching the kick, twisting harshly, he heard the man curse and grunt in pain, his hands reaching-

Don’t let him touch you!

He shoved himself away, backpedaling, he heard a crackle of something hitting the ground behind him and snapped his head, searching for danger, only to see his blaster pistol now resting on the floor.

He lunged for the thing, his body now laying across the ground as he reached and hearing the man running towards him.

He grabbed hold of the gun, remembering where his enemy was as he turned back around, practically automatically leveling a shot for the man’s armored head by the time he pulled the trigger.

Again the man ducked, pulling free his own blaster as he fired back, but Ramah could trust his Beskar to take the blows, more so than the man trusted his armor.

He kept gaining distance, managing to scramble up to his feet and moving to sidestep towards the more open part of the roof, only for the stranger to unfurl what looked like a roll of silk cloth to his right, and then, the thing froze, the length of cloth about a foot wide twisting, frozen in the air, fencing Ramah in as the stranger changed.

Twice more he shot, one shot dodged, the other tanked on the strangers chest armor before the man ducked low, and he tackle carried the Mandalorian back-

And clear off the edge of the roof.

The two of them tumbled through the air, a tangle of limbs and flailing blows, Ramah saw the ground rushing up to meet them before the man shoved himself away and he saw the stranger place a hand to his own chest before he… just stopped falling.

The ground kept coming.

The impact broke something, his body bouncing off of the pavement as he heard the distant scream of that stupid Dar’Jetii and his men, rushing to get to him.

His vision swam, he tasted metal at the back of his throat. But still his arm shook, trembling with pain as he leveled a shot and fired.

The Zabrak that had been running after Komari stumbled as the bolt nearly took his eye before he deflected it.

—

Ahsoka

The Resolute sailed through the void, like a spear hurled from the fist of a God, its arrowhead prow leading the way as its two escorts followed closely behind.

“Resolute Actual! Resolute Actual, this is CT-5555”

She barely remembered giving the orders, in fact she wasn’t even sure she’d gotten permission from Master Tiin or Rancisis and as the nausea tingled at the back of her throat she prayed she hadn’t left an opening in the formation that was going to get them all killed as the Resolute diverted away from the main battlegroup to get them as close as they could to enter through another sector of the planetary shield they still controlled. 

“I’m requesting priority one, emergency Medevac support at my location! We have Senator Amidala secured!”

“General-” She only dimly heard Hawks voice, barely having the presence of mind to acknowledge. “Shield Sector 17 is giving us a window, we have an opening to drop in and extract.

“Resolute Actual do you copy? I repeat, this is CT-5555 requesting priority-one Medevac!”

She felt the lurch of the ship. Hawks’ voice giving clearance codes and diagnostic readouts to the control tower. Rex sitting next to her, was tense as a coiled spring. 

He’d heard the words too.

“General Skywalker is down! I repeat! General Skywalker is down!””

As the ship launched itself out of the bay and rocked in the turbulence of atmospheric reentry Ahsoka felt her stomach twist itself into knots, replaying the words over and over again in her head.

Her Master had been injured before, of course he had. He wasn’t invincible.

But she’d never heard Fives, or anyone, sound like that. Like they themselves were only just holding it together, teetering on the edge of panic.

She’d never heard her Master screaming in pain as they tried to save him. 

The dropship descended down into the skylanes and their twin Arc fighter escorts were immediately tangled up in a dogfight, trying to punch through chipped clones and vulture droids and Ahsoka could only pray they made it.

She couldn’t see out, there weren’t any windows near her, but it was certainly a familiar sound when the ship started moving through the swarm, chitinous bodies splattering off the hull, a million wing beats pounding at the air around them. 

Before she knew it, the doors were opening, and Hawks was shouting through the radios. 

“Go! Go!”

She undid her harness with a flick of a button, leaping to her feet before dropping out of the ships troop bay, Fives, Ekko and several other troops were huddled around a rubble strewn hill not twenty feet away, and Padme was just sitting off to the side with Hardcase next to her. 

She looked almost catatonic and Ahsoka’s concern, already considerable, only grew.

“Where’s the General?!” Kix barked, the senior medic trooper was followed by two others, a stretcher ready and what must’ve been god only knows how much weight in medical equipment. 

“This way!” Fives waved them over. 

She pushed the worry of Padme aside for now, running after Kix towards the top of the rubble strewn hill. 

He was in so much pain. 

She reached the edge of the hill, and when she did, someone rose to meet her.

Miss Taylor marched forward, somehow intercepting Ahsoka just before she crossed the last bit of distance to see her Master, placing her hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder, holding her back as Kix and the other medics rushed past. 

The woman didn’t try to stop her, not really- she just gave a warning. “If you’re going to keep going… brace yourself.”

“He’s my Master.” She answered as if that was all that needed to be said, swallowing down the tears before she pushed past Miss Taylor.

Even though she’d prepared for something bad, even though she knew he was in pain, the sight stole the breath from her lungs.

Charred, blackened flesh covered half of her Master’s face and mouth, the robes on his left side had melted into the flesh of his arm and ribs, raw bloodied muscle, slivers of bone were visible to her eyes. Kix and the other medics were already applying painkillers,setting up the stretcher and emergency meds even as they were barking out orders to the other clones.

Ahsoka stepped forward, feeling her knees shaking before she came to her Masters side, reaching for his unburnt hand. 

His grip on her fingers was tight, and she clutched back just as tightly.

“General-” She heard Rex talking behind her. “Munificents are closing in. I’m not sure if we can break through. If they kill Senator Amidala we won’t be able to rescind the orders-”

“You’ll have an opening to break through Rex.”

“You’re sure?” He demanded

“I’ll give you one.”

“General, we’re moving him.” Kix said beside her, ushering her away from her Master as the medics moved to lift him onto the stretcher.

—

CT 1775- Silver Wing: Redgun

The blaster bolt slammed into his shoulder, pain and heat blooming out of the impact zone. beskar or no beskar, the amount of firepower leveled against them was overwhelming, two of his squad were already down, but they had to hold the line just a little longer, the General was counting on them!

The dead bodies of the guard littered the battlefield in front of them but the patches of white armor were being buried under a sea of metal and tin- The droids were advancing like one massive armored fist, punching straight through their thinned out defenses

Redgun ducked out of cover, his custom rifle barking spitting out a burst of blaster bolts that drilled straight through the bulbous body of an already damaged B-2 before his HUD motion detector flared to life alerting him of two projectiles shrieking in from on high. His eyes darted up, four Vulture droids howling as they dove straight towards them, two missiles already shrieking through the skies. 

“TAKE COVER!” One of the Galactic Marines shouted, Redgun pressed himself down into the trench, the twin blasts booming one after another, the vibrations of it shaking through the earth before he got up again.

Anti air turrets opened up, one of the Vultures was shorn apart under a hail of bolts, bursting apart in a fireball as its pieces kept going in a free fall. 

The remaining fighters opened fire, pelting the firing line with red blasts that strafed the column of men, Redgun could hear the screams of the Galactic Marines around him, “Sound off!” He barked into the private line, getting confirmations from the remainder of his silver wing squadmates that they hadn’t been hit yet.

Then, a B-2 charged over the trench line.

Redgun snarled, his blaster rifle coming up and unloading into the droid’s armored chest and face, but this close, the metal brute just smacked his gun to the side before he could punch through the thick plate, its wrist mounted dual blaster coming to the fore.

Redgun rushed forward, one arm grabbing the droid’s weapon and wrist, pushing it skyward, the other pulling free his D-17 pressing it right into the behemoth’s sunken head and pulling the trigger over and over again as quickly as he could.

The droid’s remaining free hand cocked back and punched him, dead center of his Beskar plate, the blow so strong it threw him back into the opposite wall of the Trench. 

Redgun’s back sang with pain, the air pushed out of his lungs as he slid and skid along the wall, trying to get his feet under him before he tumbled and fell on his ass. 

The droid leveled his twin-linked blasters once again and Redgun felt the first two shots hit the armor before the third set of rounds burned straight through the under armor along his thigh, the fourth smashing into the side of his waist.

His vision went white with pain agony lancing up his entire body.

Then two of his brothers were there, one roaring as he slammed into the Battle droid’s back, Jetpack flaring, the other grabbing hold of Redgun’s arm and pulling him away.

A second later, General Mundi showed up, blue lightsaber flashing, his maroon colored Galactic Marines reinforcing the line.

Redgun wished the relief he felt could have lasted, but when he heard Mundi’s voice over the chaos, the man shouting into his comms unit that relief died and was replaced with cold dread.

“This is General Mundi! All forces be advised, Grievous is on the field! I repeat, General Grievous is on the field!”

—

Taylor

Fire. 

My world was fire. 

Not the flames I made, no. Those were simple things, burning the remnants of the Bounty Hunter like so much ash and cinder on the wind.

No. It was everything else. I could feel it. See it. My awareness expanding across the whole of the planet in tune with every pulse of my heart.

The pain of men and women trapped under the rubble. The desperation of Clones clashing in open battle against their brothers. The defiance of those in space as they exchanged fire across the void. The despair of the Jedi as the temple burned and the crushing… hopelessness that tore them down as they sensed what I sensed. 

That Yoda was dead.

And Vicky, My Vicky. Her rage, her pain, her anguish and torment as she tried, desperately tried to keep fighting. To push through and try to save just one more person.

I wanted to go to her. To be next to her.

But there. Past the flames crackling like a wall in front of me. Past the pain, the desperation, the defiance, the despair, the hopelessness. Past all of it I could feel… joy.

His Joy.

He reveled in it. Drank it. 

A glutton. gorging himself. 

Bloated with power.

Yoda was dead. 

I wasn’t.

He hasn’t won this yet.

“General, we-” Fives stopped as I turned around, whatever he saw, whatever he felt as he looked at me, it was enough to make him stop, to step away.

I didn’t even look at him, my attention turning to my partner.

I could see her, a phantom before my eyes and my eyes alone. A whispering touch at the edge of my mind. All I had to do was reach for her.

My hand stretched out.

We answered.

—

Ahsoka:

“Secure him!” Kix demanded, fastening the gurney onto a maglock strip by the gunship wall, still administering medications and bacta patches with every passing second. 

“Lifting off!” Hawks warned seconds before the ship lurched. 

Ahsoka clutched at her Master’s unburnt hand, he gripped back, fingers tight and trembling. She could feel his pain, and his worry for Padme who still sat, listless and trapped in her own mind just a few feet away, secured in place by Echo.

She dared a glance outside, through the forward windshield, the black and brown storm of chitin still surrounded them, obscuring them from the droids and the dangers, but with a burst from the engines they accelerated out of the cloud, straight into mayhem as clones and droids darted across the skies. 

She felt her Master shudder and snapped her eyes to him in worry before her mind went blank.

To the clones around her it was as though she simply ceased to function.

In her own mind, Ahsoka felt like a primitive, running into a cave for shelter as a storm devoured the skies above and unleashed the wrath of  vengeful gods upon them.

She gasped, gulping down heaving breaths of air as she lurched back into her own body and her master’s hand, clutching hers, somehow felt as though he was comforting her. 

She dared to look out the window once more.

The sky… burned

—

Fives

He felt like he was standing on the surface of the sun. 

The world around him, above him, all of it, was in flames.

Vultures burned out of the sky, melting like candle wax under a blow torch, hyena bombers bursting in mid air as their payloads combusted, the planetary shield itself shining like a supernova as the heat burned it from within its envelope.

And worse, was the noise.

The buzzing, hissing, crawling noise. 

A wall, a living wall of chitin, rose up crawling out of the depths of the underworld and the noise became deafening, overwhelming, it tore ships out of the sky. Fives saw the distant munificents, even as they fired blast after blast into the swarm, be torn apart by a million billion claws; unknowable numbers tearing the starships apart in bits and pieces as the metal shells were flensed open and the superstructures were sent as burning wreckage to crash down below, their plasma reactors exploding as more and more and more and more endlessly poured out of the planet’s wounds like all-devouring retribution. 

When the General moved, Fives flinched.

He couldn’t help it. It was a reflex. Instinct. Every fibre of his body was telling him to get out of her sight. To run. To get as far away as possible from this thing, this… entity.

The eyes of her mask shone and glimmered in the firelight, tongues of flame danced over her hair, shoulders and cloak as insects crawled and swarmed like a corona of chitin around her. 

“I know you can hear me.” 

Fives felt his skin crawl, her voice… her voices sent seeds of dread burrowing into his insides and that urge to flee grew a millionfold even as he felt her eyes staring right past him, he’d never felt more exposed in his entire life.

“I see… you think yourself a God, Sith.”

The explosion threw him back, his body tumbling across the asphalt before he looked up, watching as the woman howled across the sky like a living comet of fire.

Even so, he heard her. 

Her voice crawled from a billion mouths, skittering across the whole of the world. 

“The last one thought so too.”

(X)(X)(X)

I would like to thank ALL of the Beta readers and Patreon Supporters that have gotten us this far!

Without you guys this story probably wouldn't be where it is tbh.

A special shout out to Icipal, who has been the main beta reader for this story almost since the very beginning, who's always hit me with all of the star wars deep dive lore I needed and answered a lot of my weird questions and doubts over the years.

Now, While many of you no doubt are anticipating the finale, that will not be posted yet. Its underway, but frankly after almost two months of straight tinkering and refining I myself kind of wanted to post and now for haloween or Nov. 1rst at the latest seemed like a good time.

Rest assured the final chapter to close out the battle is already underway and will be posted by next weekend, and after that we only have 2 chapters left to go, the aftermath of the battle and then the epilogue of the whole thing.

3 chapters folks! That's all that's left!

This battle in particular took a lot more work than I was anticipating but I am grateful the audience chose to let me take time off to write it all for one big release, it let me go back, refine ideas, change scenarios, make things far more believable (seriously Anakin and Alexandria alone almost took 3 rewrites to get down) so hopefully, it all came together in a way that you all enjoyed.

For those of you that have been with us for so long thank you again and for those of you only now joining us, thank you for doing so. And 3 chapters folks. We're right next to the finish line :D