Mistaken Identity || Star Wars Fic

On the bridge of the Defender Admiral Novak stood at the command console, his eyes fixed on the viewport. Outside, the stars glimmered in the blackness of space. By his side stood Captain Darklo, tense but steady. The final checks were being made, every station reporting in, every system ready.

"Captain," Novak said firmly, turning to his second-in-command. "Relay, all stations ready."

"Aye, sir," Darklo responded, standing at attention. He moved quickly to the console, his fingers tapping the controls. He activated the comm system and began his roll call, a stern edge to his voice.

"Engineering?" Darklo called out.

"Engines are hot, Captain. Ready for hyperspace," came the quick reply over the comms.

"Shields and Deflectors?"

"Shields at full power. Deflectors online and stable."

"Gunnery?"

"Turbolasers are primed and ready. Ion cannons are standing by."

"Navigation?"

"Hyperdrive coordinates are set. All systems go."

Captain Darklo turned back to Novak, giving him a sharp nod. "All stations are ready, Admiral."

Novak looked across the bridge, his eyes meeting those of every officer, clone, and naval personnel in the room. He stepped up, voice loud and clear. "Listen up!" Novak's voice boomed. "We've all been through hell to get to this point. I know what High Command wanted—we were supposed to turn our backs, leave Jabiim to die. But not today. Today, we fight. Today, we show them what the Republic is made of." His eyes scanned the room, finding every single face. "You do your duty, and we'll make it through. This is not the day we die. This is the day we save lives!" A chorus of affirmations rose from the crew, the energy on the bridge lifting with the speech.

Novak turned to the navigator, who sat just ahead of him, fingers hovering over the controls of the hyperdrive. "Lieutenant," Novak ordered. "Engage the hyperdrive. Take us to battle."

"Aye, sir," the navigator said, pulling the lever back. The stars outside stretched into long lines, and then, in a flash, they disappeared into the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace. The hum of the engines roared through the ship, vibrations rippling through the metal floors. They were on their way. The bridge fell into a momentary quiet as the crew focused on their tasks. Captain Darklo stood by Novak, hands gripping the railing in front of him, his expression tight. Novak could see the tension in his face.

"Nervous, Captain?" Novak asked, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"A little, sir," Darklo admitted, trying to hide his nerves. "It's just... it's all or nothing, isn't it?"

"Relax," Novak said, his tone calm, unyielding. "It'll be fine as long as everyone does their duty. And I have full confidence that you'll do yours."

Darklo nodded, though he still looked uneasy. The swirling light of hyperspace flashed and rippled around them, the ship moving faster than thought, cutting through the galaxy in a blur. The navigator's voice broke the silence.

"Admiral, we're arriving in-system. Dropping out of hyperspace in three... two... one..."

"Battle stations!" Novak barked. "Everyone get ready!"

The bridge crew leaped into action. Alarms blared, red lights flashing, and the officers at their stations strapped themselves in. The swirling tunnel of hyperspace collapsed, the stars snapping back into points of light. And then, there it was—Jabiim, a storm-covered world, and between them and the planet, the Separatist fleet. Dozens of ships, spread out in a defensive formation, their weapons already turning to face the Defender.

"Open fire!" Novak shouted.

The gunnery stations responded immediately. The turbolasers roared to life, beams of blue energy streaking out toward the Separatist ships. Ion cannons fired alongside, their bright blue pulses aimed to disable enemy shields and systems. The Defender's massive cannons spat out bolts, each volley striking the hulls of enemy frigates and destroyers, burning metal and shattering hull. The Separatists returned fire, red bolts cutting through space, crashing into the Defender's shields, making the ship shudder with each hit. But the shields held strong, absorbing the damage. The bridge crew worked well under pressure, officers called out targeting adjustments, damage reports, shield status. Novak watched it all, his eyes fixed on the battle playing out before him.

"Direct all forward power to the port side!" Captain Darklo ordered, making sure the strongest shields faced the heaviest Separatist guns.

"Gunnery, concentrate fire on the nearest Munificent-class frigate!" Novak added, pointing toward the holodisplay showing the fleet's layout. The Defender's turbolasers lit up the darkness of space. Their shots connected with the Separatist ships, explosions flaring up in the void as armor buckled and shattered. The ion cannons tore through shields, leaving enemy ships vulnerable for follow-up strikes.

"All fighters ready to launch, Admiral!" called out the hangar control officer.

"Hold them," Novak replied. "Wait till they launch theirs."

The bridge was filled with noise—the hum of the engines, the deep thrum of the turbolasers firing, the crackle of comms from other sections of the ship. Novak stood firm at the command console, his face set in stone, every nerve on high alert.

"Shields holding at seventy percent!" one of the officers called out.

"Keep firing! We need to punch through!" Novak's voice cut through, keeping the crew sharp. And so they did. The Defender let loose, sending volley after volley into the Separatist fleet. The bridge of the Defender was filled with flashing lights and the sounds of alarms. Admiral Novak's eyes darted across the holodisplays showing the battlefield, his face tense with focus. The battle raged around them, the Separatist ships closing in from all sides.

"Communications officer!" Novak shouted above the noise. "Do we have confirmation on the relay beacons? Are they set up?" He needed those relay beacons—without them, they were going in blind, unable to find a safe landing spot on Jabiim's surface.

The officer, a young clone, hurriedly tapped on his console, sweat dripping down his face. Suddenly, the ship shook violently as a volley of red laser blasts slammed into their shields, and the officer was thrown from his seat, barely catching himself before hitting the floor. He scrambled back to his post, hands shaking as he tried to stabilize the screen.

"Not yet, sir!" he yelled, panic in his voice.

Novak cursed under his breath, gripping the railing tight. "Blast it! We need those beacons! Without them, we'll end up flying into a storm or and up half a planet away from our troops!"

Outside Separatist cruisers and frigates unleashed a torrent of red laser bolts, pounding the Defender's shields. The Defender's gunners fought back with everything they had, turbolasers and ion cannons blazing, tearing through the darkness of space. Each shot fired illuminated the black sky, brief flashes of red and blue lighting up the ships. Inside the ship, Captain Darklo barked orders to keep the shields rotating, trying to spread out the damage so that no single side of the ship would take too many hits. "All power to forward shields! Redirect auxiliary power from life support to weapons! We need to break their line!"

The ship's frame groaned under the pressure of battle, the impacts of enemy fire sending tremors through every deck. Clone troopers manned the gunnery stations, sweat rolling down their faces as they aimed and fired. The turbolaser batteries hummed with power, spitting out beams that struck enemy ships with violent precision. One well-placed ion blast hit a Separatist frigate, its shields collapsing before another volley from the Defender's turbolasers ripped through its hull, splitting the ship in half and sending debris flying in every direction.

"Direct hit! One down!" called out a gunnery officer, a flicker of triumph in his voice.

But the battle was far from over. The bridge shook violently again as another round of fire impacted the Defender's starboard side, the shields flickering from the strain. "Shields at sixty percent!" shouted an officer. "Starboard side taking heavy damage!"

"Hold them together!" Novak commanded, his voice booming. "Divert power as needed, but keep those guns firing! We have to keep pushing!"

In the lower decks, near the hangar, clone engineers were scrambling to make hasty repairs. Sparks flew as damaged power lines were rerouted, fires were put out with extinguishers, and injured personnel were dragged from wreckage caused by the battle.

Outside, both Republic V-wings and Separatist droid starfighters screamed past the larger ships, darting and weaving as they fired. A squadron of V-wings moved in tight formation, blasting apart a wave of droid fighters, their remains spiraling off into the darkness before exploding. But some of the droids broke through, diving toward the Defender, strafing its surface with laser fire and letting lose a bombing run, forcing the turrets to track and eliminate them before they did any real damage.

"Droid bombers inbound! Port side!" one of the officers shouted, the display lighting up with red indicators.

"Deploy countermeasures!" Captain Darklo ordered. Small pods launched from the Defender, exploding and creating a web of flak and shrapnel to take down incoming bombers. Some were destroyed mid-flight, but a few slipped through the screen, dropping bombs that struck the ship's shields with blinding explosions.

The inside of the ship was thrown into mayhem as the blasts hit. The lights flickered, and some sections went dark as power systems failed. The bridge crew struggled to stay on their feet, grabbing onto anything they could find as the ship bucked under the barrage. "We're losing power to secondary systems!" an engineer yelled over the comms, trying to reroute what he could to keep the main engines running.

"Captain Darklo, get us out of the crossfire!" Novak bellowed, clutching the railing as another blast shook the bridge. "All ahead full! If we break their front line, we can get to Jabiim's atmosphere!"

Darklo's hands flew over his controls, plotting a new course through the enemy formation. "All ahead full! Helm, evasive maneuvers, now!"

The Defender's engines roared, pushing the ship forward at maximum speed. The ship swerved and dipped as it maneuvered through the tight space, trying to dodge incoming fire. But with every second that passed, the damage accumulated—the shields weakened, and the armor plating started to burn under the assault. Outside, a Separatist destroyer moved into position, lining up its guns for a broadside attack on the Defender. "Incoming fire, bearing two-seven-zero!" a navigation officer warned, his voice sharp.

"Bring port side to face!" Novak ordered, eyes locked on the destroyer. "Gunnery, concentrate fire on that ship, now!"

The Defender's guns adjusted, focusing all their power on the incoming destroyer. Green turbolaser bolts rained down on the Separatist ship, slamming into its shields, battering them down. The destroyer's shields flickered, then failed, leaving its hull exposed. A volley from the Defender's ion cannons smashed into it, short-circuiting its systems. And then, a final barrage from the turbolasers tore the destroyer apart, its wreckage spiraling off into space in a ball of fire.

"Good hit!" Darklo yelled, his expression momentarily bright with hope. But the hope was short-lived as another blast rocked the Defender.

"Shields at thirty percent!" called out an officer, hands flying over controls to try and maintain the balance. "We can't take much more of this!"

Novak's knuckles were white as he gripped the command console. The ship's alarms blared louder, signaling the critical damage they were taking. He knew they needed to get down to the planet, to safety—but without those relay beacons, they were flying blind.

"Navigator!" Novak shouted. "How much longer until we're through their lines?"

"Ten minutes, sir—if we hold," the navigator replied, struggling to keep his voice steady as the ship bucked under another hit.

"Then hold!" Novak's eyes burned. "Everyone, hold together, and keep firing! We make it through this, or we die trying!" Smoke billowed from damaged systems, alarms blared, and sparks flew from overloaded circuits. The crew worked feverishly at their stations, trying to keep the ship together.

"We're getting hammered, Admiral!" Captain Darklo shouted over the noise. "Shields are down to twenty percent!"

Another explosion shook the ship, and Novak narrowed his eyes. He stepped forward, looking across the bridge at his crew. "Listen to me!" Novak barked, his voice commanding. "Fear has no place here! The way back is shut! There is no retreat, no surrender! The only way out is through! We fight, or we die. And if we die, we do it standing tall, guns blazing!" He pounded his fist on the console, the fire in his eyes matching the flames outside the ship. "Now, push forward! All of you!"

The crew roared in response, their fear melting away in the face of Novak's unwavering confidence. They turned back to their stations with renewed energy, their focus sharpened, their determination clear.

Suddenly, the pilot at the helm called out, his voice tight with panic. "Admiral, the enemy ships are closing in! They're trying to trap us!"

Novak's eyes darted to the holodisplay. The Separatist fleet was closing in, their ships shifting into position to block any route of escape. If they got boxed in, it would be over. The Defender couldn't withstand another heavy assault.

"Move!" Novak ordered, marching forward and shoving the pilot aside. "Out of the way!"

He sat down at the console, his fingers flying over the controls with precision. He punched in new coordinates, his mind racing. The ship's engines roared as Novak took direct control, pushing them to full power.

"Hold on to something!" Novak laughed over his shoulder as the ship lurched forward, the sudden burst of speed catching the crew off guard. The Defender shot forward, Novak's hands danced over the controls, adjusting thrusters and engines in real time, pulling off a series of sharp, tight turns that had the ship skimming past enemy fire by meters. A massive Separatist battleship loomed ahead, its cannons already aiming to obliterate them.

"Obstacle ahead, Admiral!" an officer called out.

Novak's grin widened, almost wild, as he saw the enemy ship blocking their path. "Perfect," he muttered. His voice rose, louder, almost crazed with excitement. "Forward!" Novak bellowed, his voice rising over the noise. "Into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell!" The crew, inspired by his fervor, roared in unison, their fear replaced with pure adrenaline.

Novak activated the new thrusters, flipping the massive ship mid-flight, making it roll to one side, guns firing downward the whole time. Turbolasers slammed into the enemy ship, explosions bursting along its surface as the Defender's cannons tore into its hull. The bridge crew watched in awe as their ship soared over the enemy, raining fire from above.

As they cleared the top of the battleship, Novak pushed the engines to the limit, diving the Defender straight down through a narrow gap between two Separatist ships. The hull of the Defender hummed under the strain. The ship plummeted through the gap, the narrowest of spaces, while still firing in every direction.

"Keep firing!" Novak shouted. "Don't let up!"

The gunnery stations complied, turbolasers blasting at the ships on either side as the Defender dove, their shots hitting hard and fast, wrecking smaller Separatist vessels as they barreled through. Explosions rippled across space, pieces of enemy ships breaking off and tumbling away into the void.

The Defender dove toward Jabiim's atmosphere, leaving a good portion of the Separatist fleet behind, burning and battered. As they broke through the atmosphere, the ship shook violently, the air around them turning orange as they descended toward the stormy planet. "Admiral, we're entering the atmosphere!" the navigation officer shouted, struggling to keep the ship steady as the storm winds battered them.

Novak kept his focus on the controls, his jaw clenched. "Hold her steady. We're almost there."

As they descended deeper into Jabiim's atmosphere, the communications officer suddenly shouted out, his voice full of relief. "Sir! The relay beacon's been set up!"

Novak's eyes lit up. "About time!" he said, his voice triumphant. He looked around the bridge at his crew. "Now let's finish this. Get us down and prepare for landing. We've still got a men to save."

————————————————————-

The Republic forces stood at the break of dawn, staring up at the heavily fortified base looming ahead. However the morning light barely cut through the thick clouds. Master Leska stood at the front of the lines, her hands trembling slightly, but she grabbed them into fists to steady herself. In front of them was the steep slope leading up to the Separatist base, bristling with tanks and turret emplacements. Droids, thousands of them, were already moving into position, the sounds of machinery and weapons clattering across the battlefield.

Leska glanced back at her troops. The clones stood firm, their weapons drawn,. They showed no fear, bred and trained for this exact moment. But the Jabiimi soldiers beside them were different. Many of them shook, their hands gripping their rifles tightly, fear clear in their eyes. Yet, despite the fear, they were no less willing to fight. This was their planet, and they would die defending it if they had to. The Padawans stood nearby, lightsabers drawn. Kass and Zule were trying to stay calm, but even they couldn't hide the nervousness in their movements. The tension in the air was thick. Aubrie and Scout had already gone, likely scaling the cliff face now as part of their mission to sneak into the base. Leska could only hope they'd make it in time.

As she scanned the battlefield, her eyes were drawn upward to the top of the slope, where she could just make out a figure standing, watching. But more than seeing, she sensed him—dark, familiar. The Sith Acolyte. She'd fought him once before, thought him dead. But there he was, alive, watching, waiting for the bloodshed to begin. Leska frowned, gripping her lightsaber tighten.

At the top of the slope, Tol Skor stood with a twisted grin on his face, watching the droids rush into position. Next to him, Alto Stratus stood, but the man who once led the Jabiimi Nationalists was no more. Alto was broken, his mind shattered. His eyes were wild, his breath heavy, and every muscle in his body was tense, ready to charge down and kill anything in his path. Alto snarled, baring his teeth, and tried to rush forward, but Tol grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back with a laugh. "Not yet," Tol said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Don't worry, you'll have your chance to kill the Jedi. But for now, we watch." Tol's grin widened as he looked down at the Republic forces below. "Let them die on our terms."

The droids moved into formation, tanks and turrets powering up. The base was a fortress, a death trap for anyone foolish enough to charge it. Tol's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Everything was in place. The Jedi and their forces would be slaughtered here. He would watch it all, and enjoy every moment of it.

Down below, Master Leska could feel the weight of fear pressing down on her troops. She could see it in their faces—the uncertainty, the dread. The Jabiimi soldiers looked ready to break, and even the clones, as steadfast as they were, knew the odds weren't in their favor.

Leska took a deep breath, stepping forward to address them. Her voice rang out over the assembled troops, strong and clear. "I know you're scared," she said, not sugarcoating the truth. "I know the fear you feel right now. But we stand here, on this ground, as the planet's last hope. If we fall, there will be no one left to stop them."

She looked across the faces of the soldiers, Jedi, and clones, her gaze steady. "Even if we die here today, if we destroy that weapon, then we will have won. We will have bought this planet the time it needs to fight. The courage you show today will light the fires of hope inside every man, woman and child across Jabiim."

The clones stood taller at her words, gripping their blasters. The Jabiimi, though still afraid, straightened, nodding to one another, finding some determination in the face of the impossible. "I know the Jedi have failed you before," Leska continued, her voice heavy with the weight of truth. "I know the Republic has turned a blind eye to your suffering. But today, I will stand with you. Today, I will fight by your side. And I will die with you." She lifted her lightsaber high, the blue blade igniting with a sharp hum. "I will not abandon you."

A roar went up from the soldiers—clones and Jabiimi alike. Blasters were raised, fists pumped into the air. The sound of their voices echoed across the battlefield. "Death!" they shouted in unison, the word carrying like a battle cry. The fear in their eyes had shifted, replaced by the raw energy of determination, their courage shining through. They were ready to fight, ready to die if it meant stopping the Separatists.

As the shouts echoed, a crackle came through on Leska's communicator. She pressed it to her ear, hearing Aubrie's voice on the other end. "Master, we're in position."

Leska allowed herself a brief moment of relief. Aubrie and Scout had made it. They had a chance now, slim as it was, now they just needed to give Aubrie and Scout a chance to get to the generator. "Hold your position," Leska replied. "Wait for my signal." She closed the comm and turned back to her troops.

This was it. The last stand. The droids were already moving into attack formation, their weapons primed and ready. The turrets atop the cliffs hummed with power, and the tanks at the front rumbled forward, their massive cannons swinging into position. Leska took one last look at the army before her—the vast droid forces, the heavy artillery, the overwhelming odds. And then she raised her lightsaber high once more, shouting, "For Jabiim!"  With a single motion, she brought it down, and the charge began. Clones, Jabiimi soldiers, and Jedi surged forward, their cries of defiance echoing across the battlefield. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the tanks rolled forward behind them, heavy cannons primed and firing.

The first of the Republic tanks moved into range, their massive turrets swinging up to target the droid defenses at the top of the slope. With a deafening boom, they let loose, firing heavy shells into the fortifications. Explosions erupted on the cliffs, sending chunks of rock and debris flying through the air. Droids were ripped apart by the blasts, their metal bodies torn to pieces. But it wasn't enough. The Separatist base was fortified, well-defended, and as the Republic forces moved onto the bottom of the slope and began their ascent, they were stepping into a death trap.

Tol Skor stood at the top, his grin widening as he watched the Republic troops climb. The slope was steep, the cliffs rising high above them, it made the perfect killing ground. He raised his hand, looking down at the thousands of droids, tanks, and turrets waiting to unleash hell. "Open fire," he said, his voice cold.

And the world erupted.

Blaster fire rained down from the cliffs. Thousands of red bolts lit up the sky, cutting through the air like needles of death. The first wave of clones was hit before they even made it halfway up the slope. Their armor offered little protection as the blaster bolts slammed into them, burning through plastoid and flesh. Bodies dropped instantly, their lifeless forms tumbling down the rocky slope, blood staining the earth.

A massive explosion erupted near a group of Jabiimi soldiers, the blast tearing through their ranks. Limbs were blown apart, blood and gore spraying into the air as the shrapnel ripped through their bodies. One man's leg was torn clean off, sending him crashing to the ground, screaming in agony as he clutched the ragged stump that was once his leg. Another soldier was thrown into the air by the force of the explosion, his body landing in a broken heap, unmoving.

Master Leska kept moving, her lightsaber a blur as she deflected incoming fire, but even she couldn't stop the slaughter. Clones around her fell, blaster bolts burning through their helmets, the smell of scorched flesh filling the air. She watched as one clone, his chest armor shattered by a direct hit from a slug thrower, fell to his knees, gasping for breath as blood poured from his mouth. His hand reached out, grasping at nothing, before he collapsed face-first into the mud.

The tanks continued to fire, but the Separatist artillery was relentless. A stolen AAT tank took a direct hit from a Separatist shell, the explosion tearing through its armor like paper. The entire tank was ripped apart, the crew inside incinerated by the blast. Flames and black smoke rose from the wreckage, and the shattered remains of the tank rolled back down the slope, crushing soldiers in its path.

"Keep moving!" Leska shouted, her voice hoarse, trying to rally the troops. But it was impossible to ignore the death all around them. Another Jabiimi soldier screamed as a turret locked onto him, firing a burst of blaster bolts that ripped through his chest, leaving gaping, smoking holes. His body fell limp, sliding down the rocky slope, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

Up above, Tol Skor laughed as he watched the carnage unfold. "Look at them!" he sneered, turning to Alto Stratus, who stood next to him like a rabid animal. "They thought they had a chance. Pathetic." Alto snarled, his eyes wild with madness, barely restrained as he watched the Jedi below. His hands twitched, itching to rip into the Republic forces.

Tol looked back down at the battle. "Kill them all. Don't let a single one survive."

The droids responded with mechanical voices. More blaster fire rained down from the cliffs, cutting into the Republic forces climbing the slope. Another clone was hit, his helmet exploding into pieces, shards of plastoid and bone scattering across the ground as his body dropped like a stone. A group of Jabiimi soldiers tried to take cover behind a rock formation, but a Separatist tank zeroed in on them. The shell hit directly, the explosion vaporizing the entire group in a flash of light. When the dust cleared, there was nothing left but smoldering debris and charred ground.

Kass fought at the front, her lightsaber a glowing green blur as she deflected blaster fire. But even she couldn't keep up with the sheer volume of fire raining down on them. A blast hit the ground near her, sending her flying backward, her body slamming into the rocks with a sickening thud. She struggled to get up, blood running down her face from a cut on her forehead. Her lightsaber flickered as she stumbled forward, trying to rejoin the fight.

Zule wasn't far behind, her blue lightsaber flashing as she moved, cutting down droids whenever she could. But there were too many. She barely avoided a burst of blaster fire that struck the ground at her feet, sending up a spray of dirt and rock. She turned to see a group of clones advancing, but before they could take another step, they were hit by a barrage of cannon fire. The clones were torn apart, their bodies shredded.

Leska gritted her teeth, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw more and more of her forces fall. A group of Jabiimi soldiers, led by a clone sergeant, charged up the slope, their blasters firing wildly. They didn't make it far. A turret opened fire, cutting them down in seconds. Their bodies dropped, lifeless, rolling down the slope like rag dolls. The air was filled with the sounds of screams, the crack of blasters, and the deafening booms of explosions. The ground was littered with the dead and dying, the slope slick with blood and the broken remains of men and machines alike. For every step forward the Republic forces took, they lost more soldiers, more lives. And the Separatists showed no mercy.

...

Aubrie and Scout crouched low behind a jagged rock formation, watching the battle unfold below them. The sounds of blaster fire, explosions, and screams echoed through the air, the entire slope bathed in smoke and blood. Scout's face twisted in horror as she watched their forces being cut down. Clones and Jabiimi soldiers fell by the dozens, their bodies crumpling and sliding back down the slope, lifeless.

"I can't just stand here and watch this!" Scout hissed, starting to move forward, her lightsaber in hand.

But Aubrie grabbed her arm, holding her back with a firm grip. "No," Aubrie said, her voice low but steady. "We need to stay on mission."

Scout turned to her, eyes wide with disbelief. "We need to help them! They're dying out there!"

Aubrie's eyes were hard, her jaw clenched. "If we don't destroy the weapon, all of this—everything they're doing down there—will be for nothing. Their sacrifices will be in vain."

Scout's shoulders sagged, torn between wanting to jump into the fight and knowing Aubrie was right. Her grip tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber, her knuckles white. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Let's do this."

Aubrie glanced at the battle one last time before turning her focus back to the mission. They needed to move fast. Staying low, they crept along the mountainous path, making sure to keep to the shadows. The sound of the battle grew distant as they climbed higher, the cliffs providing cover from the enemy forces below. The rough terrain made their movements slow and careful, but it was their only advantage. If they were spotted, it was over.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally made it to a ridge overlooking the base. Aubrie crouched behind a large boulder, Scout beside her, both peering down at the scene below. What they saw was grim. The base was swarming with droids. They marched in formation, guarding every entrance, every path. Tanks patrolled the perimeter, their cannons ready to fire at any threat. The turrets that lined the base swiveled back and forth, scanning for any signs of danger. There were more droids than either of them had expected. Much more.

Scout's face paled. "What do we do now?" she whispered, her voice tight with worry.

Aubrie stared down at the base, her mind racing. Sneaking in was almost impossible with the sheer number of droids patrolling the area. One wrong move and they'd be swarmed. She clenched her teeth, thinking hard. There had to be a way.

"We need a distraction," Aubrie muttered, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the landscape. "Something to draw their attention away from us."

Scout looked at her, still uncertain. "What kind of distraction?"

Aubrie pointed toward the far side of the base, where one of the tanks was stationed near a fuel depot. "We hit that fuel tank. Cause an explosion. It'll draw the droids away long enough for us to slip inside."

Scout swallowed, her hands still trembling from the sight of the battle below. But she nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."

...

The battle had turned into a nightmare. The Republic forces, once roaring with defiance, were now pinned down, unable to advance any further up the deadly slope. The steady barrage of fire from the Separatist droids and turrets had become overwhelming, cutting down anyone who dared to move. Blaster bolts and tank shells rained down without mercy, exploding on the rocks and shattered artillery the Republic forces were forced to take cover behind.

Master Leska crouched low, her back pressed against a half-destroyed piece of artillery, her breathing heavy and labored. The noise around her was deafening, the constant thrum of blasters and the distant booms of explosions making it hard to think. Her hands shook, her mind racing as she struggled to find a way out of this. They couldn't stay pinned here forever. If they didn't push forward soon, they would be wiped out. But every time anyone tried to move, they were cut down.

Across the battlefield, Republic soldiers fought to stay alive. Lieutenant Lock, his armor covered in dirt and blood, pressed himself against a large rock, trying to catch his breath. His blaster was smoking, nearly overheating from constant fire, but it didn't matter. He hadn't fired a shot in minutes. Every time he tried to lean out and aim, a wave of red blaster bolts would zip past, forcing him back into cover.

"We're getting torn apart here!" he shouted over the comms, his voice hoarse. "We can't even see them!"

Captain Orion wasn't far from Lock, his face pale and grim. He was huddled behind the remains of an AAT tank, its metal hull blown open from an earlier explosion. His hands were slick with sweat and dirt, gripping his blaster rifle so hard his knuckles had gone white. He could hear the screams of his men all around him—the Jabiimi soldiers being picked off one by one, their bodies falling to the ground, broken and lifeless.

One of the Jabiimi soldiers next to him screamed as a piece of shrapnel struck him in the neck, sending him crashing to the dirt. Blood poured from the wound, and the man clutched at his throat, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Orion tried to reach out to him, but another blast hit the ground nearby, forcing him to pull back. The soldier's gasps grew quieter and quieter until they stopped altogether. He was gone.

Zule, her face streaked with grime, crouched beside a pile of shattered rocks. Her blue lightsaber was ignited, but she hadn't swung it in what felt like hours. The sheer volume of fire coming down on them made it impossible to fight. All she could do was deflect what shots came her way, but even that was becoming a struggle. Her arms were tired, her energy drained. She was starting to feel the fear creeping in, the gnawing certainty that they wouldn't make it out of this alive.

"We can't hold much longer," she muttered to herself, gritting her teeth as she deflected another volley of blaster bolts. Her lightsaber sparked as it caught the shots, the force of them nearly knocking the weapon from her hands.

Kass was nearby, her green lightsaber glowing as she too struggled to keep deflecting the endless waves of fire. She glanced over at Zule, her face twisted in frustration. "We need to move!" she shouted, but the words felt empty. There was nowhere to go. The slope was a death trap.

Blaster fire cut through the air, inches away from Kass's head, forcing her to duck down lower behind the wreckage she was using as cover. She cursed under her breath, watching as more of the Jabiimi soldiers were gunned down. Their forces were being picked apart, piece by piece.

Master Leska knew they had to keep pushing, had to find some way to break through the Separatist lines. Her heart pounded in her chest as she forced herself to stand, clutching her lightsaber. She ignited the blade with a snap-hiss, the blue light shining through the smoke and dust. She stepped out from cover, ready to lead the charge, but before she could take more than a few steps, the ground exploded near her.

A tank blast had hit.

The blast sent Leska flying through the air like a ragdoll. She was weightless for a moment, the world spinning around her, before she hit the ground with a sickening thud. Pain shot through her body as she tumbled down the slope, her lightsaber slipping from her grasp and extinguishing. Rocks and dirt tore at her robes, and she came to a stop near the base of the slope.

"Master!" Zule screamed as she saw Master Leska go down, her voice filled with panic. She wanted to run to her, to help, but the fire was too heavy. She was trapped behind the rocks, unable to move without being shot.

Leska groaned, her vision blurry. Blood dripped from her forehead, and her whole body ached from the impact. She could barely move, her limbs refusing to respond. Every breath she took was painful, and she could taste blood in her mouth. The sound of blaster fire was distant now, muffled by the ringing in her ears. She tried to lift her head, but it was too heavy. She was losing consciousness.

Her vision blurred as she looked up at the slope ahead, the sky above filled with streaks of red and blue blaster fire. The air was thick with smoke, the sounds of death and battle echoing in her ears. It all seemed distant now, as if it was happening somewhere else. The lights from the blaster fire flickered across the sky, and for a brief moment, it struck her as almost beautiful in a strange, twisted way. But the thought was fleeting, replaced by the cold reality of their situation.

They were finished.

Leska's breaths came out in ragged gasps, her chest aching with every movement. She could barely hold her head up. The battle had gone wrong in every possible way. Her men were being slaughtered on the slope, their bodies lying broken in the mud. The tanks and artillery had halted any chance of them pushing forward. There was no way out now. But still, she hoped, she prayed that Aubrie and Scout had enough time to complete the mission. If they didn't, then all of this would mean nothing.

As her eyes began to close, the sounds of explosions ripped through the air. It wasn't the same high-pitched sound of blaster fire she had grown used to. This was different—deeper, louder. Powerful.

Leska forced her head up, her eyes widening in shock. At the top of the slope, massive turbolasers were raining down on the Separatist positions. Entire tanks exploded, ripped apart by the force of the blasts. Turret emplacements were shattered, their operators blown to pieces in a blink of an eye. The sudden destruction of the Separatist defenses left gaping holes in their formations.

Leska turned, struggling to focus through the pain, and saw what had appeared behind them. Three massive AT-AT walkers, their towering forms cresting over the nearby hill, their powerful weapons hammering the top of the slope with deadly precision. The ground shook with each step they took, their cannons firing without mercy, tearing apart the Separatist defenses.

On top of one of the AT-ATs, she saw a figure. Even from this distance, she could feel the presence. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Jaden..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, her mind still processing the sight before her.

Atop the lead AT-AT, Jaden sat cross-legged, his eyes closed in deep concentration. He had arrived six hours later than he had expected due to how slow the AT-AT's were, and the battlefield below him told the story of just how much had gone wrong. He could see the Republic forces pinned down, struggling to survive. Bodies were scattered across the slope, and the Separatist defenses had turned the area into a killing ground.

When he had left Cobalt Station, he had convinced the crews of the three AT-ATs to join him. They had been on standby, guarding the base, and it hadn't taken much convincing to get them to follow him into battle. Now, as he sat atop the massive war machine, he knew there was only one way to turn the tide.

Jaden focused on the Force, letting it flow through him, reaching out across the battlefield. He extended his awareness, touching the minds of every soldier still fighting on the slope. He felt their fear, their despair, their exhaustion. But he pushed past it, focusing their minds, sharpening their resolve, amplifying their strength. He had never actively used battle mediation actively before but like Satele had explained to him once he sank into it, it was pretty much instinctual.

The soldiers on the ground suddenly felt a rush of energy, their weariness faded. Their movements became faster, more precise. Their aim sharpened, and their reflexes heightened. They no longer felt the sting of exhaustion or the weight of despair. Instead, they felt alive —stronger than before.

Jaden kept his focus, guiding them, empowering them. He could feel their spirits lift as the Force flowed through them. It wasn't just strength; it was clarity. A sense of unity, of purpose, filled their minds, and they roared in response. On the slope, the trapped Republic soldiers felt the sudden surge of strength in their limbs. Lieutenant Lock, who had been pinned behind cover, felt the hopelessness in his chest dissolve, replaced by a fierce determination. He looked over at Captain Orion, who nodded, the same fire in his eyes.

"We've got to move!" Lock shouted, standing up from cover, blaster in hand. The soldiers around him followed suit, roaring as they surged forward.

Zule and Kass, both bloodied and exhausted, felt the shift in the Force. Their lightsabers ignited once more, and with renewed strength, they deflected the incoming blaster fire with ease. They moved faster, their lightsabers cutting down droids as they pushed forward, their exhaustion forgotten. Clones who had been on the verge of collapse now charged ahead with newfound energy, their blasters firing in perfect coordination. The tanks that had once pinned them down were now crumbling under the relentless fire from the AT-ATs. The Separatist forces couldn't keep up. They were being pushed back, their lines collapsing as the Republic forces surged forward.

Droids fell by the dozens, cut down by blaster fire and lightsabers alike. The tide had shifted. The battle was no longer a hopeless slaughter—it had become a full on assault. At the top of the slope, Tol Skor watched the battlefield with narrowed eyes. His satisfaction had vanished, replaced by frustration and anger. The arrival of the AT-ATs had changed everything. He watched as his once impenetrable defenses were blown apart, as the Republic forces surged up the slope.

It didn't take him long to realize what was happening.

"Battle meditation..." Tol growled, his voice dripping with venom. He scanned the battlefield, searching for the source, but whoever was responsible for the heightened morale and sharpened reflexes was well hidden.

He slammed his fist down on the console in front of him. "Reinforcements, now!" he barked into the comm, his voice a sharp command. The base needed every droid, every tank, everything they had to hold off this new assault.

But even as he gave the order, he knew it might not be enough.

Near the base's rear, Aubrie and Scout crept through the rocky terrain, doing their best to stay out of sight. They had been sneaking for what felt like hours, the sound of battle in the distance only making the tension worse.

"We're almost there," Aubrie whispered, her eyes scanning the path ahead.

Scout looked tense, her blaster held tight. "This place is crawling with droids," she said, her voice low. "How are we supposed to get in? Let alone make it to the fuel depot?"

Aubrie's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of the base. It was heavily guarded, droids patrolling every entrance. They moved in perfect formation, and there were far more than she had expected. Sneaking in was going to be almost impossible.

"What do we do now?" Scout asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aubrie didn't answer at first, her mind racing. They couldn't fight their way in, and the droids were too organized for a stealth approach. They needed something, anything, to shift the odds in their favor.

And then it happened.

A loud shout echoed from the front of the base. The droids began moving, faster than before, rushing toward the front entrance. Aubrie's heart leaped in her chest as she realized what was happening. The droids were being called to the front, where the reinforcements were needed most.

"This is our chance," Aubrie said, turning to Scout. "We move now."

Without hesitation, they moved, slipping through the now lightly guarded path, knowing that this was the moment they had been waiting for.

...

Blaster fire filled the air as the Republic forces pushed harder up the slope. Clones led the charge, firing their rifles in tight volleys. Droids fell in pieces, their metal bodies collapsing under the constant assault. The AT-ATs behind them laid down heavy fire, their turbolasers blasting apart anything in their path. The droids tried to regroup, but the Republic soldiers kept pressing forward, their boots digging into the dirt as they advanced.

A group of clones charged up the hill, their blasters firing rapidly. They cut through the droids easily. One clone slammed his rifle butt into the head of a battle droid, sending it crashing to the ground in pieces. Another soldier took down three droids in quick succession, their metal bodies riddled with holes before they collapsed into heaps.

However the first AT-AT was hit by a concentrated barrage of fire. A Separatist tank round smashed into its side, the explosion rocking the massive walker. The legs gave out, the machine groaning as it toppled over. The ground shook as it crashed into the earth. Blaster bolts flew through the air, droids were blown apart by Republic grenades, their bodies scattering into pieces. A clone tossed a grenade into a group of droids, the explosion sending shrapnel tearing through the metal bodies, ripping them apart.

Kass moved at the front, her lightsaber slicing through any droids that stood in her way. One droid lunged at her, but she cut it in half before it could get close. Sparks flew as her green blade tore through another droid, its body falling to the ground in pieces. She didn't stop, pushing forward with the soldiers behind her. Zule was beside her, cutting through droids with her blue lightsaber. She didn't waste time on anything that wasn't directly in front of her. Droids fell to the ground, sliced apart by her lightsaber, their mechanical arms and heads bouncing across the dirt. She took a breath, then cut down another group of droids.

The second AT-AT was hit hard. A Separatist artillery shell exploded its legs, the impact sending the walker crashing down. The legs snapped as the massive machine hit the ground, its body crumpling into a fiery wreck. Flames rose from the shattered hull, the crew inside lost in the explosion. The clones didn't slow down. They pressed forward, blasters firing, cutting down more droids as they closed in on the top of the hill. By now, the Republic forces had nearly reached the top. Droids tried to hold their ground, but they were cut down by the assault. The clones fired nonstop, advancing step by step, never pausing, never hesitating. The hill was littered with droid parts, metal limbs and torsos strewn across the battlefield.

The last AT-AT continued firing as the Republic forces reached the top of the hill. Its turbolasers blasted apart a group of droids that had attempted to regroup. But as the clones pushed forward, the last AT-AT took a direct hit to the side. The explosion tore through its hull, the walker swaying before it toppled over the edge of the hill, crashing into the ground below, before he could be caught in the explosion Jaden jumped off landing on the slope of the hill.

Zule and Kass led the charge as they reached the top. The droids stationed at the base entrance tried to mount a defense, but they were overwhelmed. Zule's lightsaber cut through the first group of droids, their bodies falling in pieces at her feet. Kass followed, cutting down more droids as she cleared the way for the clones to enter. Blaster fire echoed through the air as the clones poured into the base entrance. They moved quickly, taking down any droids. The battle was intense, but the Republic forces pushed through, cutting through the droid ranks. Zule and Kass fought side by side, their lightsabers flashing as they carved a path for the clones to follow. The droid resistance at the entrance was finally broken, their bodies lying in heaps as the Republic soldiers filled the base.

For a brief moment, it seemed like the Republic forces had secured the victory. But then, a figure stepped forward from the shadows inside the base. Tol Skor, his black robes billowing in the wind, stood at the entrance, Tol Skor smiled, a cruel grin spreading across his face. "You've fought well, Jedi," he said, his voice low and menacing. "But it won't matter. You will all die here."

(AN: I thought this would be the last chapter but tbh if it was it would end up being like 15,000 words. Anyway I'm just gonna split it up and do the last one as the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this.)

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