The Force Wills - Chapter 130

The journey to the rebel encampment took just under three hours and traced a winding route through the dense jungle that Steela had no problems navigating by memory alone.

The six other rebels with us also had their own dalgos but most actually preferred to walk next to the domesticated predators, rather than ride them. It spoke of not just good ‘horsemanship’ but also experience, sparing the creature’s endurance for when it was truly needed - such as escaping a droid patrol.

Steela’s route had also cut through a few streams and over old wooden bridges. The last man in the column also had the job of policing any signs of our passage in the terrain.

Finally, just as the sun was rising, she halted the column briefly, scanning the jungle ahead for something.

She was seemingly satisfied and gestured for us to continue.

We broke through the dense jungle to a deserted ruin that was overgrown with thicket and plant life that was slowly growing on the bones of the old structure.

It had been the beginning of a new town, but had for one reason or the other, failed to prosper and suffered abandonment. The only buildings left standing to provide some shelter was a town hall, missing any windows and surrounding it was a large paved square with tall entrance arches overgrown with jungle plants. Nesting on the roof of the hall was a number of rupings; a winged reptilian species that was also domesticated and large enough to serve as flying mounts for the onderonians.

Between the dalgo and rupings, it gave the rebels excellent options for mobility and lightning quick hit-and-run attacks.

The rebels themselves were sprinkled here and there around the structure in groups of four or five, all going about the early morning routines of breaking their fast, cleaning themselves with nothing more than water and some hand cloths, checking and cleaning weapons or just sitting around, chatting and waiting. Their gear was generally new, but the rugged environment was already taking a toll on them.

“A bit rough around the edges, wouldn’t you say?” Obi-Wan said dryly.

“That’s why I brought, Rex,” Anakin titled his head towards the clone captain.

“They’re not exactly what I would call ‘shinies’, but I can work with them, sir.”

“And you brought Chewie because wookiees are the best jungle fighters in the galaxy,” I pointed out.

‘These onderonians know a thing or two already, I already spotted a number of traps we were led through, but I’m sure there’s room for improvement,’ Chewie rumbled.

We passed through the overgrown arch and had to stop when a ruping took the sky with a rider and landed in front of us.

The rider dismounted and hugged Steela briefly before taking off a leathery helmet with a face shield.

“General Skywalker,” greeted Saw Gerrera with a nod.

“At your service,” Anakin removed his helmet and bowed slightly. “This is General Kenobi, Commander Tano, Sergeant Chewbacca and finally Captain Rex.”

“We’re looking forward to your help in taking the fight to those scrapping droids,” he said eagerly.

“All in good time,” Obi-Wan qualified.

“Good to see you all in person.”

Steela gave Saw a good natured elbow into the ribs, “You’ll have to excuse my brother, he fashions himself our leader, though no one elected him.”

“And just how have you been handling that?” I asked curiously.

“Mostly as a collective between myself, Saw and Lux,” Steela explained. “Everyone here looks to us three and we’ve so far been managing attacks in the jungle on the droid patrols with some success. However, it's only pinpricks against the enemy and we always retreat in the face of heavy units or tanks.”

“That’s what we’re here to change. Consider yourselves temporarily deputized members of the Grand Army while we’re here. We have much to teach you,” Anakin declared.

“When do we begin?”

“Immediately, after your morning tasks are done, I want everyone in this camp together for a briefing.”

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The meeting was held inside the hall and revealed the primary reason why the rebels had chosen this location. It still held some working Holonet communication infrastructure inside, which had been brought back online by field repairs and a working portable microfusion generator. It was all currently off to prevent risk of detection from any sensor sweeps.

In the final tally, there were 331 rebels gathered in the structure to listen to our presentation, which was held near the sole working holonet console at the front of the hall.

Anakin raised his hands, flexing the Force across the assembled mass of men, women and two dozen onderonian twi’leki.

The low din of excited conversation slowly stopped as Anakin pulled all their attention in.

“Welcome all of you, to the GAR. We’re here today to begin a series of training exercises that will finally bridge the gap that exists between you and the Separatist droids. The first and most obvious point is that they always have strength in numbers. That is something that we’ve faced since the beginning of the war in space and on planetary battlefields.  We’re going to show you how to take advantage of that and destroy them.”

Obi-Wan stepped forward, “To be clear, we’re not here to fight your battles for you. Just show you how to conduct it in the most efficient and successful way possible. Captain Rex?”

The clone, who was wearing jungle camouflage black market armor giving him the look of a bounty hunter, nodded, “You’ll all be divided into twelve man squads. Each squad will then rotate through a specific training evolution with me, Sergeant Chewbacca, Commander Tano, Generals Kenobi and Skywalker. First, I’ll need volunteers to carry combat supplies that have been air dropped half a click west of this location.”

Fifty eager hands were raised into the air.

“Excellent. With those supplies, we’ll begin to show you how the 501st destroys clankers. In addition, Sergeant Chewbacca will be running a training evolution on how his people conduct warfare in dense jungle conditions. The wookiees live on a planet that makes Onderon seem like an open air field. You’d be wise to listen to his advice. Those volunteers, please meet me outside once this briefing is concluded.”

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I didn’t expect to be a teacher again so soon in this life, but here I was, standing outside under a blazing sun in humidity just over 90% and thanking the fact that the beskar’gam was rated to keep its user comfortable in any environment the galaxy could throw at it.

The first training evolution we conducted was done with a dozen of the portable training cubes taken straight from the Resolute’s arena, which Anakin had modified based on Obi-Wan’s experiences on Serenno. These were improved to have independent power sources and could operate outside and work as an interconnected cluster.

I tapped the control on my vambrace and the training cubes rose off the ground forming two curved platforms in mid air, before a high fidelity hologram emerged around it. Creating a life sized rendition of the Separatist AAT.

My first twelve trainees looked suitably awed and impressed with the tech.

“The B1 pilot in the front hatch controls the tank, the shells and short range blasters in the flanks,” I said, pointing to the areas in question. “The commander in the top hatch controls the turret and the main cannon. Both need to be taken out or else the tank will remain operational. Either B1 droid can fully control the tank from each station. This is a measure of redundancy that all Separatist equipment will have.”

I took a few steps back and held up two droid poppers in my hands. “This is the Merr-Sonn 3 electromagnetic pulse grenade or as the GAR prefers to call them, ‘droid poppers’, or EMP grenade. Take your pick. You arm the device by pushing and holding the top button firmly for two seconds. You then have five seconds to throw or drop it before it will detonate and release the EM pulse. It also has an adjustable timer for shorter or longer durations depending on the situation. It will either disable or permanently fry a droid’s circuits. Understand also that in the latter mode it will fry your nerves, should you be caught in the radius.”

Using sheer physical speed I rushed at the holographic tank, running up the side, sticking a popper against the simulated front hatch, then vaulted and ran up the side with a bit of athletic parkour, and dropped the second popper onto the upper hatch.

A final backwards flip had me landing beside the simulated tank and running away.

“Another feature of the popper is that it can adhere to any surface once you engage the small green button to the side of the main arming mechanism. It will give you two seconds before it activates that function. Be careful that you keep your hand on the non-stick side of the grenade as you don’t want the popper adhering to your own hand.”

Lux Bonteri raised his hand slowly. “Commander, will the grenade be enough to affect the tank even through the armor?”

“As long as you place it near the hatches, where the armor is naturally the thinnest, yes. The ideal will be for you to throw a popper into the open commander’s hatch. In other words, getting close enough to catch them by surprise. A B1 tank commander will always try to keep that hatch open as long as possible. The exterior sensors of an AAT, while functional, are naturally limited with all the armor getting in the way. We will also be teaching you where those points are located, as accurate blaster shots to those areas will blind the tank crew enough that will force them to at least open the upper hatch.

“Now, I want you to divide yourselves into teams of two. Each of you will be getting one demo model droid popper. It will simulate the real thing as closely as possible. One of you will attack the lower hatch, whilst the other climbs for the top hatch. Once you master that, we will simulate doing the same thing for a tank that is moving. Once that evolution is complete, I will act as a B1 commander droid in the top hatch and shoot at you with the droid standard E5 blaster rifle - relax, it will only fire stun shots. Only when you master that, will I consider you sufficiently trained to take on an AAT in an asymmetric warfare setting. Now, divide up.”   

The first attempts that followed were naturally a minor disaster.

Lux and another twi’lek rebel were first, but both mistimed and fumbled the use of the popper’s adhesion - ending up quite literally attached to the simulated tank as both grenades went off.

“Congratulations, at least you took out the tank,” I said wryly with folded arms. “However, you both might as well be dead with fried nerve systems or stopped hearts. Try again.”

They did so, however, the twi’lek rebel ended up spraining an ankle when he jumped off the top of the tank and failed to properly roll with the landing.

I drew my WESTAR in a flash and started shooting at their feet, chasing after them, pushing on their psyche’s with the Force. “RUN! RUN!”

The poor twi’lek and Lux did so, frightened briefly out of their wits.

The former did his best, hobbling but managing to get a decent speed.

When both were at the back of the line, I relented.

I strode up back to the front. They couldn’t see my face behind the Mando helmet, but everyone perceived my glare.  “Do you think the clankers will just let you run away on your own time!? No, they will throw everything they have at you. When you attack an AAT, you must already have your escape route planned. You must become like ghosts! Also when in full hover, the highest point of the AAT is nine meters high. An improper jump from that height can kill you! The cubes beneath the holo are imitating the general upper surface. Slide down the front if you can’t do a proper break-fall. Next!”

So it continued, the next bunch managed to not screw up with placing the popper and the rebel attacking the upper part of the tank even showed a proper break-fall technique.

The two rebels even looked very satisfied with themselves, sauntering off.

Right until my WESTAR delivered two stun bolts modulated to only deliver pain into their buttocks.

“Congratulations, you’re both dead,” I said flatly, looming over both rebels, who were miserably groaning on the ground. “Next!”

The next two duos did well and even remembered to run as my WESTAR shot at their heels.

The last of the group tried to do a break-fall from the top of the tank, but fudged it completely by not tucking in their chin during the roll portion of the maneuver.

The entire class of rebels winced as the man practically drove his skull into the ground. The only thing saving him from very serious injury was the soft jungle soil. He did end up with a nasty cut that sent blood streaming down his face.

“Easy, easy, I’ve got you,” I muttered, helping the dizzy rebel to his feet. A quick application of the Force as I held his hands stopped the bleeding and I slapped a bacta patch onto the cut. “Have a seat and observe only. No more training. Understood?”

“Yes, commander,” the man said, feeling rather stupid and embarrassed.

“All right, what did that teach you?” I asked the group.

There was only silence for a few moments as everyone looked at each other, hoping that someone else would answer.

“Accidents happen?” Lux finally said.

“On the right track, anyone else?”

“We must be ready for the unexpected,” said the injured twi’lek, now seated and wincing as he massaged his ankle.

“Precisely,” I nodded and approached him, placing a hand on his ankle. Ligament strain was always a tricky thing to soothe and heal. He breathed a sigh of relief as the aching pain faded and looked in astonishment as he experienced a Jedi healing ability first-hand. “No strenuous activity for at least eight hours. You can watch and learn for the rest of this evolution. Understood?”

“Yes, commander.”

“Good, now, as for the rest of you who aren’t injured, we’re going to move onto the next portion. The tank will be moving. Remember, never charge the front of an AAT. The B1 manning the blasters will cheer as you up its kill count. Wait until it passes you.”

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It was close to sundown when every rebel had at least gone through the AAT evolutions with middling to satisfactory performance. I also had my hands full attending to the minor injuries sustained from those jumping from the top of the tank. Thankfully, no one had been inept or unlucky enough to actually die from the fall.

Everyone got busy with food prep and a belated late lunch. The rebels were clearly experienced with food shortages and no one had complained when the training evolutions continued through traditional eating times.

Anakin gathered everyone to a new training area that Chewie and Rex had set up.

Three reprogrammed droidekas were sitting in their roller forms to the side of the main square, painted with red slashes to visibly indicate they were non-hostile.

“Droidekas are quick, pack twin blasters and come with their own shield generators. Only certain specialized shoulder launched missiles and mounted cannons can pierce it. They do have two weaknesses and you will have to work together to exploit them,” Anakin explained.

Rex tapped a control on his own vambrace, causing one of the droidekas to jump into life, standing on its stubby feet and surrounding itself with the shield, resonating a transparent blue in the local atmosphere.

“The shields deflect any high velocity attacks.”

Rex shot at the droid with his blaster pistol, careful to use an angle that would send the deflected bolt off into the sky.

“What the shields don’t stop are slow or stationary objects. They’re designed to absorb them, so nothing hinders their movement, including the air.” He nodded to me.

I unlatched a popper from my belt, armed it and casually threw it with a mild underhanded motion.

It bounced once, before beginning to roll and simply phased through the shield before the mild EM charge released, just enough to merely shut down the droideka.

“On their own, droideka are blind from behind. Actively give it a target to shoot as a distraction, then throw your popper from behind,” I explained. “The problem is to get the right speed on the popper. In mid-battle, feeling anxious and fearful, you will struggle to moderate the strength of your throw. For this evolution, we will not be simulating that, but come tomorrow these droids will be shooting stun shots at you if you fail. The crate full of poppers is over there, each take one and try to simply roll it into the shield, we’ll do this three at a time.”

Rex activated all three droidekas, directing them to stand next to each other, whilst the rebels came up in turn and tried their hand at droid popper bowling.

First up was Saw and two others.

All three tossed the popper underhand and ended up overcooking their throws, bouncing off the shields.

In the next group was Lux, who managed to be the first to moderate his throw for a smooth shield penetration.

“Good, the rest of you, slower,” I instructed, feeling the immediate bloom of simmering frustration from Saw. He was glaring blaster bolts at Lux’s back for some reason.

Steela and a female twi’lek rebel were next up and both managed to roll their poppers through the shield, whilst the third rebel failed.

It became something of a contest after that, as the sun dipped below the jungle horizon, plunging the encampment into streaks of darkness with a burnt orange sky overhead. We began taking turns to oversee the training evolution and when night had fallen I found a spot on the town hall roof for some solitude.

The rebels at least knew of light discipline and didn’t use traditional fires. Instead using low- signature plasma torches that were partially buried in sand to radiate warmth.

I folded my legs and began a meditation to the sound of merry frustration and triumph echoing through the camp as the rebels continued their game of popper bowling.

The entire scene would’ve been a pleasant evening as stars came into view overhead and the sounds of thousands of kinds of local fauna filled the air. The vibrant multitude of colours of flora snaking over the structures and the hall, lit only with the dulled hues from the plasma fires. The nearby brightly colored ruping were snoozing in their perches on the roof.

“M8, take a visual snapshot please.”

‘Done, mistress, it’s a pretty sight to the optical receptors.’

It was a pity I wouldn’t be able to enjoy more than forty minutes of meditation, as sure enough, I was soon joined by another who used the vines to climb to my position.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wake the ruping, commander,” said Saw Gerrera softly. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“No, and I know my way around most animals,” I said, keeping my voice low.

He sat a few feet away, dangling his legs off the edge of the roof. “Do you?”

“Let’s just call it a Jedi thing and leave it at that.” I could probably fire my WESTAR into the air and the ruping wouldn’t flinch if I had their simple minds dominated via the Force. I wasn’t as good as Anakin with Animal Control, but I could get by.

“So… I can’t help but notice you’re keeping your helmet on all day. Is that a Jedi thing too?”

“No, that’s Mandalorian. In hostile territory there is no thing such as safety, therefore the helmet stays on, even in sleep. There are Mandalorian clans which take it to even further extremes, believing that you can’t remove the helmet in front of outsiders. They believe that keeping the helmet on preserves their identity, honor and connection to the Way of Mandalore.”

“And is your clan one of those?”

“There was a time when we were,” I answered, reaching up and twisting the helmet to break the seals and lifting it off to place it down next to me. I straightened my lekku into a natural position and scratched an itch on a montral, pretending not to notice Saw’s fascinated and appreciative look as he saw my face for the first time.

“Doesn’t it get uncomfortable keeping your lekku cooped up in that?”

“The helmet caters for it and I’m used to it. So what brings you to me, Saw Gererra?”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Just, uh, wanted to know if you have any advice for throwing those poppers properly.”

The lie was very blatant, but I chose to let it go, recalling every time I had seen him throw.

“Your right arm is too stiff on the follow through, you tense your muscles unnecessarily. When you throw, the energy must come from your legs, flow up through the body and transfer to the arm, which does the technique and actual aiming.”

“Ah, I see, well then I have a slight problem then.”

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously.

“Let’s just say that at the beginning of this war, I was taken prisoner. Then taken to work at a rhydonium mine about a few days' journey from Iziz. There were no droids or beasts, just men. Made to work under this hot blistering sun and jungle, barely given enough food to avoid starvation. The old died first, just dropped where they stood. Rash’s men let the jungle predators feast. There’d be nothing left the next day but a bone or two. Under those conditions, our clothes didn’t last long either, so soon enough we laboring in only our skin. They didn’t bother bringing replacements. At some point, in the eighth month of that hell, the inevitable happened. A laborer died as they were handling a rhydomium pump, it broke open and spread out everywhere on everyone. Do you know what happens to skin exposed to that stuff?”

I could sense Saw was deep in memory lane, a thousand yard stare as he looked out over the camp.

“Yes, in simplified terms, it delivers a combined itchy and burning sensation. There’s also long term complications for your nerve endings.”

“Everyone ran away, but I didn’t and that had consequences.” He sighed heavily. “I can still do everything I could, but the small things, fine movements are difficult at best and utterly impossible at worst.” He stared at his own hand, the individual fingers twitching slightly, seemingly beyond his control.

Now that he was this close, it was quite easy to determine his general health through the Force.

“Would you like me to take a look at that?”

He gave me a sharp smile, “Is that why you think I came up here? That I heard talk of you using your Jedi abilities to heal some of our people and-”

“No, you don’t have the right desperation in someone who is seeking a cure to their condition. In fact, I don’t think you view it as a detriment.”

He simply nodded, “During the mining accident, where others ran or were hurt by the rhydomium… I was different. I was entranced by sensation. It was… revelation. It was like I saw everything, the multitude. How I fit in that huge picture. How small I was. How my entire world was but a tiny spark and for that brief moment…”

He trailed off, clearly unable to find the words. 

Given what I could sense, his entire system had low level rhydomium toxicity. His body was doing its best to purge it and after more than a year, things were looking quite good on that front. The problem now was that he had actually developed a bizarre mental dependency on the stuff. It wasn’t outright addiction, as I could sense that he hadn’t been exposed to it for some time. Rhydomium was too valuable and controlled on Onderon for him to easily acquire.

“I can’t render judgement on what you experienced, Saw. Perhaps in that moment, you connected to the Force consciously.” Stranger things had happened in the galaxy and perhaps he had found a bizarre shortcut that had worked just for him in that moment, achieving what the Matukai did through rigorous training and meditation. I didn’t sense the Force in him beyond the standard equilibrium level that all normal people had.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “I’m actually more interested in something else at the moment.”

I didn’t need the Force to sense the double meaning and the underlying attraction he was feeling to me. Inwardly I was utterly flabbergasted, getting hit on by a young Saw Gerrera was not on my bingo card for this trip. In pure physical terms he was rather handsome with high cheekbones that could cut diamonds and solid jaw, even the small soul patch beard fit quite well with the picture. It was almost a pity that the uncompromising personality underneath and what I knew he could become soured any thought in that direction. “Go ahead.”  

“You’re a commander in a vast army. How do you do it? How do you lead and make people follow?”

I folded my arms and speared him with a look, “You’re having leadership problems among you?”

“We’re putting on a good front for your visit,” Saw revealed. “Most of the time we can barely agree on how often to run patrols or what to prepare for dinner. Lux constantly has his head in the future, thinking about all that important ‘negotiation’ he’s going to do and not thinking at all about what we need to do here and now to win. Steela is more pragmatic but she’s too cautious. She thinks of every rebel here as family and almost can’t imagine losing them. The thought that her decisions or orders would lead to their deaths is paralyzing her.” He snorted with annoyance and anger, picking up a small stone to throw into the air to express his feelings. “We’re barely worthy of the term ‘rebel’. We’ve killed maybe thirty B1 droids and a few B2s and it’s a drop in the ocean.”

“That’s unfortunately the problem when you have such a disparate group, united in a cause they agree on, but they disagree on the methods. I have it much easier than you. I command clones, Saw. Clones who are psycho-conditioned to obey my orders without question. Nevertheless, even there, I must lead by example. I could go on a whole lecture about leadership with you. I can tell you that you must be decisive even in the face of incomplete information, be honest, take responsibility for your actions, foster loyalty and morale, anticipate challenges, plan long-term operations. You must have courage, physically and morally. You must make the tough calls, when no one else wants to. You must understand and motivate your troops to build cohesion. You must be able to adapt your strategies, because your perfect plan will never survive contact with the enemy. You must master tactics, logistics and technology.”

I could see I was overwhelming him somewhat. Good, he needed the true scope of what would be truly required in the coming war for his planet.

“All of that are the details, but it must all rest on the foundation of what vision you have and what you can inspire them to strive towards. If you don’t have that, then you’ll be simply leading them into the abyss, Saw.”

My words might as well have been hammers that had struck him over the head, as he stared at me with huge blue eyes. His mind was practically screaming in turmoil as he thought of his sister and that all this could mean her death one day.

That a decision he would make would lead to her death.

“I- I will need to think about that.”

“Do so, but don’t take too long, Saw. We don’t have much time.”

“What do you mean?”

I looked off into the direction of the capital city. “How have you been avoiding probe droids?”

“We don’t settle in any one place for too long and we always keep a perimeter lookout. Steela is our best sniper and she always knocks them out, by the time they send forces to investigate the destroyed probe, we’re long gone.”

“Yet our arrival has interfered with your routine. Is there a proper perimeter around this camp at the moment?”

“Kriffing hell!” he swore, standing up.

My WESTAR was already drawn and fired a blue blast into the night.

The bolt streaked through the air to the upper edges of the jungle canopy and slammed into the probe droid I had sensed sneaking closer. It erupted into a fountain of sparks and flame, tumbling and bounced against a tree before slamming into the soft jungle earth.

He grabbed a large, old generation macrobinocular from his belt and gaped as he saw the seemingly impossible feat of marksmanship.

The entire camp was startled and reached for weapons in a rather good example of combat reflexes.

“Ahsoka! What was that?” Anakin’s voice immediately emerged from my comlink.

“Probe droid, master. Our position is compromised.”

Saw tapped his own comlink, “This is Saw, everyone gather possessions and supplies. We will evacuate now!”

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Confidence and morale among the rebels had taken an undeniable hit.

They had gathered their possessions and loaded the dalgos in mere minutes, and those with rupings took to the sky to quickly scout a route for the rebels to evacuate. The longest item to handle was to disable the repaired holonet system in such a way that it didn’t look like it was capable of interstellar comms.

Chewie and the rebel tech who had originally repaired it, managed a convincing job after just seventeen minutes.

Soon enough, the entire rebel force was assembled in a long caravan with the dalgo’s pulling repulsor sleds carrying all their supplies in addition to the weaponry and tech we had delivered.

Saw took point and led us straight north.

Every rebel had their blasters out along the flanks of the caravan and kept their eyes peeled into the jungle night.

“Wild dalgos and rupings are a danger,” he explained to Anakin. “We prefer not to travel at night for that reason, but having a droid carrier drop a company on our heads would be worse.”

Anakin’s comlink chirped.

“Yes, R2?”

“Scanners detect a launch from the capital city. Three Platoon Attack Craft are heading in your direction and a single C9979 armor carrier.”

“ETA?”

“80 minutes.”

“You’d think that they’d launch Hyena bombers or the fast B2 carrier, they’d be much faster and could’ve even caught us before we fled into the jungle,” Obi-Wan mused, scratching his beard.

“Rash wants us either alive or dead, not obliterated in an airstrike,” Saw sneered. “He wants to parade us in front of the populace as an example. We can’t do that in pieces.”

He abruptly stopped in his tracks, tugging on his dalgo to halt it. Then he stared at me with an intense gaze, before jumping on the beast’s back to get everyone’s attention.

“Everyone! Halt!”

The caravan came to a messy stop as his voice didn’t exactly carry the full length of the column.

“Saw? What are you doing?” Steela frowned, pulling on the reins of her own dalgo.

“Just… trust me, Steela,” he muttered, before shouting again. “Listen! We can do what we’ve always done when Rash finds us, but I say that changes tonight! I say we turn the table for once. We know the enemy is coming, we know where they are going first, before they fan out to search for us. We now have the means! We can ambush them!”

I saw the rebels looking at each other with uncertainty, they definitely liked the idea but…

“Are we going to stay skulking in the jungle wilds constantly? Whilst Rash sits on his stolen throne hunting us until we’re as extinct as the hragscythe! I say we stand and fight here! The line drawn in the sand. No longer are we the hunted! We are the hunter!”

It was the youngest rebel, a twi’lek who was barely out of his teens, who shouted and waved his rifle in the air, “YES!”

It was the pebble that began the rock slide and first Lux then a dozen others shouted, “YES! YES! YES!”

Soon the chant was echoing up and down the caravan.

“Realize this! We are not fighting the droids who will come! They are but puppets of our true enemy! Rash thinks he can come and take our lives, but I say NO! We will not! We will not bow or go into the void as slaves for his greed! We will fight and live as free onderonians!”

“FREE! FREE! FREE!”

“I ask you now! Who will step forward to make a stand and fight?!”

“WE WILL!”

“WHO?”

“WE WILL!”

The chanting continued and I could only smile.

‘Is this you, Snips?’ Anakin thought to me.

‘Of course not, Skyguy. You’d feel the Battle Meditation. No, this is just a right word in the right ear at the right time.’

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Damn scope is acting up again, she thought in annoyance.

Steela scowled as she fiddled with the knob to trigger a reset in the small visual computer. A second later the image flickered to life again and presented her the best image of their former encampment, now turned into an ambush and killing field for the enemy.

She was perched in the tallest tree nearly four hundred meters from the edge of the ruins, obscured by as much foliage as possible, with her body lying remarkably in comfort within a sling hung from the upper boughs. It was woven and tied by the wookiee, Sergeant Chewbacca, in barely a few minutes after he had climbed the tree with the same ease a human would walk.

The scope computer re-acquired its rangefinding again as she scanned her firing sightline. Another check of the power pack told her she had twenty full power shots and three more packs in her bandoleer.

The blaster rifle was old.

It was old when her father had inherited it from her grandfather and now it was hers. That didn’t mean it was useless. The old Merr-Sonn rifle was meant to take out the large predatory fauna of Onderon. Her grandfather even had taken out a hragscythe with it during the Great Culling which saw the massive three headed beasts that were the scourge of Onderon, finally brought under control.

It would now be used to cull an entirely different infestation on her homeworld.

Her scope’s night vision abruptly blinked out and she was left staring only at darkness.

“Kriffing gutkurr,” she swore, tapping the small control panel on the side to reset it again. With only the weak reflected light from the moon of Dagri overhead, it would make a fight in the night more difficult.

The scope switched on and full functionality returned for once, it even remembered the range data.

“You need to relax,” said Commander Tano softly.

The togruta Jedi had perched herself with ease between two rising branches of the tree, pushing against one with her feet and braced her back against the other branch.

“How am I supposed to do that with my brother and… everyone about to gamble our lives, the future of my planet on this pointless ambush. We destroy these droids and it’ll achieve what exactly?”

She did not want to think about Lux at the moment.

He is many things, he has learned so much out here, but a true soldier, he isn’t.

Tano remained silent for a few moments, just staring out into the darkness, the intimidating visor of her helmet glinting in Dagri’s light.

Does that thing have night vision as well? She wondered.

“You are building an army that has a long road ahead of it, Steela. The people that are a part of it need a true victory. They need to actually see and experience what they can achieve together. Yes, it’s likely that some will die soon. There is nothing you can do about it. That is the nature of war, which you have no choice but to accept.”

Steela felt her teeth grinding as she suppressed the instinctive anger that those words elicited. Yet they rang as an uncompromising truth into her skull.

She hated that Tano was right. Why couldn’t there be another way?

Her mind was going in circles, wrestling with the question when she felt the Jedi’s gloved hand patting her on the shoulder. “They’re coming.”

What? She thought frantically. Already?

A glance at the tiny chronometer readout in the scope told her that she had completely lost track of time, so absorbed had she become by her inner struggles.

She banished them as firmly as possible and glared into the scope, scanning right to left, then back again along the treeline to the north-west.

“Look further up,” advised the Jedi.

She did so and saw the looming forms of three PACs coming to a stop just one hundred meters from the ruin, hovering over the jungle canopy. The industrial unarmored cradles holding 112 B1 droids in storage, towed behind a heavy duty speeder with two B1 pilots standing at the open cockpit.

That they sent these felt like an insult in itself. As if they didn’t even need to worry about the rebels being able to attack the unarmored PACs before they could deploy.

Looming further in the background the blade-like double hull of the larger droid carrier came to a hover, before landing into the jungle with its giant foot shaped landing strut crashing through the trees contemptuously, where it would open and disgorge the heavier AATs and B2s.

The PACs unfolded, the rear sled parting and twenty four large mechanical arms folded out and let go of their already activated B1 cargo.

In moments, 336 B1s were already in formation and marching towards the ruin.

Tano shook her head, “They deployed only one AAT and a dozen B2s from the carrier.”

Steela squinted and couldn’t imagine how Tano would’ve seen that. “What? You want them to throw more at us?”

“No, it merely shows us how Rash views you at the moment, if he was even involved in the command process.”

“You think he wasn’t?” she asked incredulously.

“These droids are clearly acting on old information. They don’t know that Jedi or Republic advisors are here. Rash could’ve given the order to sweep the jungles for rebels and dissidents to the droids weeks ago and they’re simply carrying out that directive.”

The heavy thumping of hundreds of combined metallic footsteps reached her ears and the first line of B1 droids breached the tree line to march into the open area of the ruin.

By sheer instinct, Steela drew a bead on the first one she spotted, settling the reticle directly on the sloped head of the B1.

“Wait for the flare,” Tano warned.

Steela gritted her teeth, holding her fire as the second line of droids marched into view, then the third, fourth, fifth.

Kriff, Saw, shoot the flare already, she cursed internally.

“Aim at 320 degrees,” Tano advised next.

Steela sighed and adjusted her aim accordingly.

Every B1 was out in the open and here she was aiming at nothing but another part of the treeline.

Then the first B2 emerged directly under her reticle!

The blue flare shot into the sky… fired by Captain Rex at Saw’s command.

Steela aimed slightly up, ignoring the cacophony of blaster fire that erupted from the rebel’s concealed and staggered positions all around the clearing. Precisely laid out by General Skywalker to give everyone a clear sightline with no chance of friendly fire.

Her finger squeezed the trigger.

The old rifle roared as it sent the orange plasma bolt downrange, the slight recoil easily compensated.

The B2 was nailed in its left shoulder, burning through the small sensor channel that was the only weakness in the frontal armor of the walking tank.

The B1 droids returned fire even as over seventy or more were hit and collapsed to the stone floor of the ruin.

“Next target, 293 degrees.”

Steela shifted her aim and sure enough found another B2 there.

Her second shot for the night missed by two centimeters low, leaving only a scorched and pitted crater in the armor.

Her memory brought back her grandfather’s words. ‘Relax your muscles, Steela. Leave the anger at missing behind you. Breath out and squeeze.’

She breathed and squeezed the trigger.

The bolt streaked across the night and hit, sending her second B2 to the ground.

She spotted the next target, but this B2 was already raising its left arm and the night flashed as it sent a rocket into the air.

Steela flinched away from her scope, frantically scanning as the guided rocket bloomed its light straight towards their position.

There was barely enough time to think of jumping out of her perch, but the rocket twisted suddenly in mid-air, going off course and shot straight up before detonating in a large orange flower of fire that illuminated the clearing.

“Target at 288,” Tano said calmly, her words somehow punching through the storm of blaster fire.

Steela struggled to calm down, her heart thundering in her throat as she addressed her scope properly again and sent a shot directly into the rocket launcher arm of the B2-HA that had nearly killed them.

It both ruined the launcher and the fresh rocket inside the barrel was set off.

Her scope’s auto-dim feature saved her eyes from the bright glare of the explosion which ripped the B2 apart and utterly scrapped six nearby B1s.

“Nice shot. Next target, 243.”

She aimed further left, found the left shoulder… squeezed the trigger.

The B2 took another step before falling over.

The call came over the radio, “Poppers out!”

Two dozen of the EM grenades lobbed out of the tree line, cast into the air by those rebels with the best technique and throwing arms.

Multiple bright actinic flashes heralded their detonation among the tightly packed formation of B1s.

Visible arcs played over their chassis as B1s twitched in a macabre dance before collapsing to the ground with fried circuitry, opening huge gaps in the formation.

Yet they continued to return fire into the tree line with undaunted mechanical will.

“Targets at 213, 217 and 222, kill the PACs, they’re in retreat.”

Steela shifted her aim, the scope alighting on the sloped head of the PAC B1 pilot, trying to turn the ungainly thing around.

Her rifle spoke once, knocking the head clean off the droid. The PAC drifted off course, smashing into the neighboring craft.

Her rifle spoke again, and found its target.

Both PACs lost altitude and slammed into a tree, crumpling the chassis completely.

Another adjustment, she squeezed the trigger.

“Good shots, all PACs are down,” commented Commander Tano, also keying her comlink to announce it on the rebel frequency.

“Sabotage team reports success. One AAT destroyed. Watch your eyes,” reported Saw.

Steela had just enough time to turn her head and close her eyes before a thunderous explosion lit up the landscape as the droid carrier erupted into a conflagration of flame.

She felt the shockwave wash over her, rattle the trees fiercely and looked just in time to see the carrier fall apart into two cracked burning halves, further rattling with smaller secondary explosions.

The fighting had only briefly paused from the rebel side, giving the remaining droids the upper hand.

Four rockets from the remaining B2-HAs streaked out towards a number of their positions.

Once again something caused them all to spin out of control and detonate harmlessly in the air.

Recognizing the threat and having only a few dozen B1s left, every rebel with a sightline started shooting at the seven remaining B2s.

Most of the fire just sparked harmlessly or slightly pitted the thick armor, but the sheer volume meant that it was inevitable that someone would get a lucky shot to the weak spot. A few rebels also started aiming for the legs or even the arms.

Steela got back to her job and turned a B2 into scrap, even as three others were mission killed or utterly disabled.

Another B2-HA blew up in spectacular fashion as a blaster shot from a rebel went straight down the barrel of its launcher arm.

She fell into a world of razor focus, there was just the next target through her scope, listening to Commander Tano’s spotting directions and pulling the trigger.

Then there were no more B2s on the field, she loaded a new power pack and dialed down the yield of her rifle, picking off the remaining B1s.

“Field’s clear, Steela, you can safe the rifle.”

She blinked, her mind struggling to comprehend the words. Where was the next target? “What?”

The Jedi patted her on the shoulder. “Easy. It’s over, Steela.”

“We won?”

“Yes, we won.”

“Oh.”

The world felt very strange, but she managed to make her hands move to shut down the rifle.

“Just take a deep breath. Easy. You’ll come back to yourself in a minute or so.”

There was only one thing she wanted to know. “Is Saw… and Lux all right? How many…”

“Your brother’s fine, as is Lux, though he’ll need some medical attention as he has a blaster wound to the leg.” Tano closed her eyes briefly. “As for how many of your people died; eleven dead and 41 wounded.”

She felt a brief relief that morphed into a low horror. 

“Come, let’s get you out of here.”

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A/N: Poor Steela, welcome to the major leagues of warfare and its associated cost. Hope you enjoy the weekend and stay awesome folks.