The Eternal Emperor

The hangar was alive with activity, a symphony of efficiency as clone technicians and engineers swarmed over the newly constructed Venator-class Star Destroyer. This was no ordinary ship of the line; its sleek, freshly forged hull gleamed ominously under the artificial lighting of the Star Forge's assembly bay. A hum resonated faintly in the background, a reminder of the immense power coursing through the station as it birthed war machines. 

Fordo adjusted his grip on his helmet, the familiar weight a small comfort amidst the alien sense of unease creeping up his spine. The ship before him, christened Obsidian Requiem, wasn't like its predecessors. It was a Venator-class in form, but not in spirit. This one had been… altered. 

"Primary systems are green across the board," called one technician, his voice sharp and practiced. 

"Hyperdrive calibration complete. Energy flow stable, reading at 98% efficiency." 

"Droid complement accounted for and online. Twenty-thousand units, awaiting remote command protocols." 

"Automated systems interface operational. Command link to Star Forge established and holding steady." 

Another voice chimed in, a note of skepticism leaking through the professionalism. "I still don't like this. A Venator running with barely a skeleton crew? What happens if the core glitches? Or worse—gets compromised?" 

"Relax," the first technician replied, rolling his eyes. "The scenarios have been accounted for. Redundant fail-safes, isolated control nodes, and that lovely little army of droids packed in there. You'd have to be a genius or insane to crack it, and in both cases either aboard the ship or the Star Forge." 

Fordo caught the exchange as he approached the ship's ramp, the conversation barely reassuring. His ARC team followed in silence, though he caught the subtle tension in their postures. They'd been through hell together—Kamino, Muunilinst, Hypori—and yet this was different. The Obsidian Requiem was a far cry from the trusty Venators they had served aboard before. 

Stepping onto the loading ramp, Fordo glanced at the matte-black tag strapped to his forearm. The small device was deceptively simple in design, yet it carried a weight far beyond its size. It was a direct link to the ship's internal droid complement—20,000 units, each programmed to obey him and his ARC brothers without question. They were a last measure, Lelouch had explained, in case of intrusion or sabotage. 

Fordo clenched his fist, feeling the material press against his skin. The tools of the enemy, he thought grimly. It wasn't like clones to rely on droids—those clankers had been the bane of their existence since Geonosis—but he couldn't deny the strategic brilliance of it. His men were no longer just soldiers, each one commanded the equivalent of a small battalion. 

The forces assigned to his team were undeniably substantial, yet constrained by the ship's capacity. With only 30 clones aboard—a stark contrast to the original complement of nearly 8,000—the drastically reduced need for consumables freed up valuable space. This allowed the cargo holds to be filled almost entirely with battle droids, maximizing their operational efficiency. 

The Star Forge on the other hand... did not have such limitations. It had been nearly 3 days since they had taken control, and as of this moment, nearly 200'000 combat droids, led by the surviving 6000 clones, patrolled the vast corridors of the station. 

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The Venator slipped smoothly into hyperspace, the starlines streaking across the viewport in a brilliant cascade of light. Lelouch stood on the command platform, his gaze calm as he surveyed the endless blue tunnel ahead. His hands rested lightly on the railing, exuding confidence as he turned slightly to regard Fordo standing at attention beside him. 

"You understand what this entails," Lelouch said, his voice smooth yet weighted. 

Fordo's jaw tightened, but he met Lelouch's gaze squarely. "Kamino and its population have served their purpose," he finished the unspoken sentence, his tone clipped. 

Lelouch gave a simple nod, his expression unreadable. "They have. And with all the genetic data and research secured, neither you nor your brothers have any need for your creators anymore. After this, all that remains... is a place for all of you to call home." 

For a moment, Fordo's posture slackened, his gaze distant as the weight of Lelouch's words settled in. Then, as if snapping back to reality, he straightened. "Sir... this..." 

Lelouch interrupted, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips as he leaned on one hand. "I promised you and your brothers a future. It was not easy, but we are almost there." 

Fordo's lips parted as if to respond, but no words came, at least none that left the confines of his helmet. 

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The rain pelted the domes of Tipoca City, a relentless torrent that drummed against the translucent walls with rhythmic ferocity. Inside the command center, Clone Captain Hael stood over the flickering tactical display, its blue holographic grid casting a cold glow over his squad. The sounds of battle rumbled faintly in the distance, punctuated by the staccato reports of blaster fire and the thunderous crashes of heavy ordnance. 

"Sir, the 3rd squad reports clankers attempting to breach the eastern platforms!" a clone officer called out, his voice crisp despite the chaos. 

"Patch me through," Hael ordered. He placed his hands on the edge of the console, leaning forward as a holographic feed from the squad blinked to life. The view was shaky, but the unmistakable shapes of B1 battle droids swarming the narrow walkways filled the frame. The clones held firm behind makeshift barriers, firing disciplined volleys at the advancing horde. 

"Hold position! Use the structural supports for cover," Hael barked into the comms. "Reinforcements will flank them in three minutes. Keep those platforms secure!" 

The feed crackled as a well-placed thermal detonator erupted among the droids, scattering their ranks like broken toys. Hael exhaled sharply. Three minutes can feel like a lifetime out there. 

Behind him, the hum of equipment and the shouts of technicians filled the command center. Engineers darted between consoles, some frantically repairing damaged systems while others rerouted power to maintain critical defenses. Sparks flew as a tech worked on a charred power relay, muttering curses under his breath. 

"Sir!" another voice called, snapping Hael's attention back to the map. "The west wing defenses are fully operational again. Techs report the auto-turrets are back online." 

"Good work," Hael replied, his tone firm but approving. "Shift fire patterns to cover the gaps in the 2nd Battalion's line. We're not letting those clankers set foot inside the cloning chambers." 

Outside, the chaos of war raged on. Kamino's rain-slicked platforms were a battlefield of smoke and fire. Clone troopers held their ground, using crates, fallen machinery, and the occasional spar of wreckage for cover. Blaster bolts streaked through the air like red and blue comets, illuminating the storm-choked skies. 

"Grenade!" one clone shouted as a cylindrical object clattered across the platform. 

Without hesitation, another trooper kicked it over the edge, sending it plummeting into the ocean below. The explosion roared harmlessly out of sight, and the squad resumed their coordinated fire, their blasters slicing through the droid ranks. 

In a nearby hangar, tech crews scrambled to repair damaged LAAT/i gunships. Sparks danced from welding torches, and the acrid scent of burnt metal filled the air. Pilots barked orders as droids carried out rudimentary tasks, unloading supplies and moving spent munitions away from the bay. 

The droid-assisted workflow freed up clone engineers to focus on the critical systems. "Keep that stabilizer steady!" one shouted, his helmet slightly tilted as he examined a half-melted conduit. 

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Across the base, the ragged forms of three Jedis stood out like sore thumbs. 

Jedi Master Shaak Ti stood near a viewport, her arms crossed as she gazed out at the rain-soaked platforms. The storm mirrored the turmoil within her. Beside her, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker discussed strategy, their voices low but firm. 

"We've bought time, but this isn't sustainable," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. "Grievous is relentless, and the fleet is gone. If those reinforcements don't arrive soon—" 

"They'll arrive," Shaak Ti interjected, her tone steady. "The last transmission from GAR High Command confirmed their arrival in one day." 

Obi-Wan sighed. "A day might be too late." 

"And yet, it's all we have," Shaak Ti replied, her gaze unwavering. "The cloning facilities and the younglings must be protected at all costs. This world is too critical to the Republic." 

Anakin, uncharacteristically silent, stared out at the rain. "Why hasn't Grievous just razed the place? He has the firepower." 

"Perhaps he needs it intact," Shaak Ti suggested. "Or perhaps he's waiting for something." 

Obi-Wan nodded but didn't look convinced. "I'll check the perimeter defenses again and lend a hand. No sense in waiting idly." 

As Obi-Wan left, Shaak Ti turned her attention back to the battle outside, also deciding to reinforce the defense points after a few minutes. 

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Back in the command center, Hael watched the tactical map as his squad moved to bolster the eastern defenses. His HUD blinked as new reports poured in—supply lines restored, reinforcements holding the inner chambers, and the clankers' push faltering under renewed resistance. 

But the relief was short-lived. Hael's communicator beeped sharply, the red hue of a confidential transmission indicator flashing insistently. 

He stepped away from the map, his boots clicking against the polished floor. As he activated the transmission, the familiar, imposing figure of High General Lelouch shimmered into view. The hologram flickered slightly, but Lelouch's presence was unmistakable. 

"Captain Hael," Lelouch began, his voice calm yet unyielding, "under the power granted to me as High General of the Grand Army of the Republic, Contingency Order: Base-Delta-Zero is to be implemented on the world of Kamino, effective in 24 hours." 

"Preparation in accordance with the contingency order, as well as leading to it, are to begin immediately." Lelouch continued, his gaze fixed firmly on Hael. 

Hael's pose tightened. His voice betrayed no emotion as he snapped to attention. 

"Affirmative, sir." 

 A.N: Now, i know that its a code, contingency?... maybe... considering its a planet whipeout. Either way i hope you enjoyed it :)