The Force Wills - Chapter 187 (Patreon)

I stood in the Conqueror’s Ward Room, hands folded behind my back and gazed out into space at a visage I would never fail to be awed by.

The great shipyard ring that surrounded Kuat was an artificial horizon from my point of view, that stretched on and on, until it curved completely out of sight, becoming thinner and thinner until it was a thin white line that angled around and disappeared behind the curvature of the planet itself. Countless tiny motes of light, representing enclosed speeders, shuttles and smaller ships moved like blood through and around the megastructure, whilst larger capital ships and bulk freighters could only be hidden from view by my thumb.

What couldn’t be hidden by my entire hand was the relatively nearby berth of a Mandator-II Dreadnought that was practically completed. Nine kilometers of wedge shaped starship stretched out before me and I wanted nothing more than to go over there and walk the corridors and visit the bridge of that monster.

Unfortunately, I was currently detained by the exacting and at times, infuriating whims of the Council of First Knowledge.

Four Jedi Masters sat on the far end of the long table, which was practically buried under their various datapads, flimsi and a number of active holoprojectors.   

Those on the CFK, with a few exceptions, were scientists first and Jedi second, yet I could feel with every quiet question that I was being judged.

Master Agnook was stroking his chin fur, his feline ears twitching occasionally as he ‘listened’ to the telepathy of another Master, Kavold Las, a male mirialan. The latter pointing to a datapad in hand rather emphatically.

The third master, Imnaan Diis, a female iktotchi, was manipulating a holo render of one of the Rakatan artifacts with a general air of frustration, grumbling to another member of the CFK team, Yiresh Varr, an alderaanian woman. She was looking at her colleague with some amusement at her antics.

Agnook finally nodded and placed a hand on Las’ arm to pause the master.

“Padawan Tano, thank you for your patience. We just wanted to make sure everything on our side was ready. These artifacts and recent events have given us much to consider, after all.”

I turned away from the view and took my seat, “No problems, Master.”

Naturally, there were many issues knocking on my door at the moment. The Conqueror’s final repair had been completely halted so as to not disturb the remaining ‘evidence’ of the attack. Despite the fact that I had made sure to preserve as many samples of the affected hull as possible. I had to coordinate and organize a multi-system heist for Fulcrum. I had to keep an eye on Zero Company and potentially be ready to rush to the transference room if the situation was dire enough.

He tapped a datapad a few times before purposely placing it in the center of the table, it would do the job of recording the interview.   

“Padawan, in your own words, a description of the craft that attacked the Conqueror, please.”

I nodded and began; describing appearance, behavior, acceleration, and lack of conventional emissions. This was entered into the record along with Conqueror’s own sensor data.

Master Las cleared his throat, “You indicated that the Rakatan AI could not only detect you and Knight Skywalker as a Jedi across a massive distance, but also communicated directly via telepathy.” The note of skepticism was clear in his tone. “Can you speculate on how this was achieved?”

Oh yes, just explain an ancient Rakatan computer system built by master Rakatan smith-forgers who could work with the Force itself to mold matter down to a subatomic level. Technology that makes a holocron look like a primitive sundial in comparison to a digital clock. I had a good look via Farsight, Mechu-deru and couldn’t begin to give words to what I had seen of the AI itself.

Maybe one day, after decades of studying the various bits of wreckage, I could imitate some parts of it, but I’d definitely need to look into extending my life to have any hope of seeing some pale imitation of Rakata tech find its way into general use. If the side-effect of the Dark Side corruption could be overcome somehow. There was no way we were repeating what happened to the Rakata.  

“No. It was a Rakatan computer that could use the Force as a medium, manipulate it as easily as we have machines to mold the EM spectrum and Hyperspace. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Las nodded, accepting the answer.

“Padawan Tano, given your healing expertise,” Master Varr stared into her own datapad, not even looking up at me. “Did you sense any anomalous residual effects in Master Damsin, Knight Skywalker or yourself after contact with the Rakatan artifacts? You interfaced with the Star Map, after all.”

I gave her a flat stare, her reproving tone spoke volumes.

“I sensed no residual effects. All three of us can cleanse ourselves of any inherent corrupted energies within the Rakatan artifacts. Any third year academy initiate who had mastered the Force applications techniques would be fine. It didn’t induce any changes or mutations on a cellular level. That would be counterproductive.”

“Counterproductive,” Master Diis murmured. “Expand on that opinion, if you please.”

“The AI’s designation of us as a Force-Thrall Unit, combined with the general recorded oral histories that survived from that time. It lets me conclude that the Rakata most definitely identified and used Force-Sensitives from their slave populations and didn’t just exterminate them as a threat. For what purpose, would be guesses, but any empire that uses slaves extensively follows a pattern - they encourage reproduction and expand control in accordance. The AI called me ‘uncollared’, indicating the Rakata definitely had a physical means of keeping a Force Sensitive suppressed on command, despite whatever training or strength they had.”

Agnook nodded, “What of the language issue? Did the AI speak to you in Basic or was it telepathy that drew on your own mind?”

“It did not access the language centers of my mind. It knew modern Basic.”

On and on the questions came, from different angles, teasing ever inward to elicit my own opinions and knowledge. Letting them see and draw their own conclusions. Then the topic shifted.

“This was the first time you acted as a Navigator with a Navy ship to chart and fly through unknown space,” Agnook commented. “Please give us a detailed account of your Mechu-Deru interface with the Conqueror's hyperdrive and its systems. What did you experience in the Force while guiding the ship?”

Here I had to be careful. Master Duumas’ privacy was paramount.

“The typical visions, warnings, and future noise related to the navigation itself.”

“Did your technique feel stable, sustainable, or were you overreaching?”

“It was partially sustainable, I needed to drop the ship out of hyper when I felt myself becoming tired.”

“And you dropped out right into the Rakatan system, a remarkable coincidence,” Las declared wryly.

I did not rise to the bait and didn’t even give Las the satisfaction of a reaction.

Agnook sent a reproving glare at his colleague. “We ask simply out of concern, Padawan. If you feel that you need more training from a Navigator, it can be arranged. As far as our investigations have determined, you did everything possible and went beyond protocol to prepare Conqueror for the journey. That is to be commended and you will receive a commendation from the Navigators, perhaps even an honorary invitation into their ranks.”

“I’ve determined where I went wrong in my initial hyper flight, Master. It was much more comfortable on the return journey, however, I wouldn’t say no to a Navigator reviewing me.”

“We will put that request through to them. It should not be a problem to arrange a rendezvous.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Agnook reached forward to the recorder datapad and shut it down, only to drop another device.

My montrals twitched as I barely picked up on the sonic screech of an upper frequency scrambler, whilst my more esoteric senses felt the white noise EM generation. The Force swirled subtly through the room from him and the security cam sensors were disabled as well.

“Now, Padawan Tano, I can reveal that there is a reason only four Masters are here, instead of the full six who came to Kuat. Grandmaster Yoda has briefed us on the Infinite Coil and the Shadow Plague.”

I closed my eyes, opening my Bond to Yoda immediately. ‘Master?’

His presence surged through into my mind and he only needed a few moments to declare, ‘Truth it is. Council of First Knowledge, these four, were informed. Need their help, we will. Know only what they need to.’

Hence, nothing to do with Abeloth. They were only informed of the Plague, not its origin.

“May I have a blank datapad, Masters?”

Agnook nodded and I pulled one with the Force towards me, and interfaced it with a logic spike.

M8 transferred the files, with a subtle little program that would track where that data went.

“Within here are the sensory and medical findings I made examining two Coil soldiers, designated Seer and Striker.”

I casually levitated the pad straight back to the Master of the CFK.

“As you can see from the first file-”

My sentence was interrupted as prescience screamed.

I looked out of the transparisteel of the Ward Room, towards the great Ring.

Agnook twitched as he also felt the disturbance in the Force.

My eyes closed before the flash of light could blind me.

I didn’t need my fleshy senses to see and feel the massive liberation of raw energy, characteristic of a hypermatter fusion reactor going critical just 800 km away… right on top of the Shipyard ring itself.

The lateral shockwaves rang the entire megastructure like the galaxy’s biggest bell, transferred it right through the docking collars connected to Conqueror and gave us an effective ‘shipquake’. Inertial dampening automatically scrammed online, but not before giving everyone on the ship the equivalent of hearing a 5.0 Richter equivalent shock through the structure and onboard air.

As if that wasn’t enough to add to the shit sandwich, small flashes in sequence appeared from the nose of the neighboring dreadnought.

I had to use farsight to actually see what happened and I wished immediately I hadn’t, as a stream of people were pulled out into the vacuum of space…

Three seconds later, beyond the time where emergency containment fields should’ve slammed down to preserve integrity, it still hadn’t stopped.

Prescience only showed me horror… even the physical backups wouldn’t drop and every yard worker, clone or anyone who had been in the massive junction tunnels leading to and from the dreadnought would find themselves eating vacuum in the next five minutes.

I blurred out of my seat to the window and slapped my comlink, “Tano to XO. Priority message to whoever is in charge of that dreadnought’s bridge! Drop their emergency bulkhead connection to KDY now!”

“XO here! Sending now.”

My teeth grit as I focused through the many paths of the future, feeling the persistence, narrowing my gaze.

‘Come on. Do it. Stop being astonished and DO IT!’

Nine horrifically long seconds later, I perceived the dreadnought side bulkhead doors mercifully slamming shut.

Yet all that had achieved was merely stemming the bleeding on the dreadnought side. From the KDY side we were still watching dozens of people being spaced every second!

“XO, full system scan! Any enemy or anomalous activity?” My voice was barely below screaming.

The answer came back a frustrating six seconds later. “Negative, General. No enemy contacts. Raxxa and Balmora hyper points are clear.”

“Bring the ship to Condition Two.”

“Condition Two, at once, General,” XO confirmed.

The lights in the Ward Room dimmed and turned yellow, whilst a rapid alert began echoing through the air.

“Why isn’t KDY closing its emergency bulkheads?” Varr asked in frustrated horror. All four masters were also at the windows now.

“Force fields should’ve stopped it, bulkheads aren’t closing. There is only one explanation; sabotage,” Agnook declared grimly. “If they don’t close within the next few minutes we’re looking at thousands of deaths. If the next layer of inner bulkheads within the ring station close properly, it should limit that, if they don’t…”

He didn’t need to really finish. I donned my helmet and locked it in place, activating my armor’s full life support.

‘M8 interface with bridge systems,’ I subvocalized.

The projector on my left wrist activated, covering my arm in contoured readouts and holo controls, including the Conqueror’s full sensor readout; what it saw, I saw. Condition Two emergency protocol essentially allowed me to command and control the ship, no matter where I was on it. It shut airlocks and would’ve also prepared the ship to forcefully use its own tractor emitters and weapons to cut the ship away from KDY if necessary.

“XO, I have command.”

“General, has command,” he confirmed over the link.

“Comscan, analysis of the explosion.”

“Sensor records indicate a docked bulk freighter, the Odasand, Arkanian registered, detonated. It reads like a catastrophic reactor breach, General,” declared Comscan. “But the size and destructive energy release don’t come close to what would be expected if this was just an accident. These figures only make sense if the Odasand had a significant amount of energetic material in its hold as well. Not enough to cut the Ring, thank the Force, but enough to wreck a significant portion of an entire sector.”

“What’s their listed cargo?”

“Checking manifest database… starship parts, nothing that should produce that level of destruction.”

“I want every sensor we have trained that way and recording. Flight ops, launch a scout and hyperjump them ten light minutes away, then lock their sensors on Kuat. Get me full spectrographic, I want to know what was on that freighter. Then launch every S&R shuttle and hull we have on deck that has a working airlock and start pulling people out of the void. The yardworkers should be wearing a magcon field that’ll keep them alive long enough.”

“Scrambling all ships, confirmed,” declared Flight Ops.

“Comms, anything from KDY?”

“None, General. Only automated emergency messages. Stand by. Incoming message from Kuat System Command.”

“Put it through.”

“This is Admiral Ozdig. All Republic ships are to assume defensive posture, anti-boarding and sabotage security measures. No enemy contacts are detected in the system. Balmorra and Raxxa reports, all clear. For the moment, see to the safety of your individual commands. Ozdig out.”

“Shabla!” I hissed as another little fact came to my attention in the sensor readouts. “Comms, get me whoever is in charge on that dreadnought’s bridge.”

“At once, General.”

“Padawan?” Agnook asked. I was supremely grateful that the masters hadn’t interrupted me as yet, recognizing that I was the captain of the ship and responsible for their lives at the moment.

I gave the master a grim look, “The dreadnought has been cut loose from KDY by whatever sabotage hit their docking ports, they are in freefall. The spin of the Ring around the planet means that either we undock in the next seven minutes and maneuver clear or the dreadnought has to fire ventral thrusters to avoid crashing into us.”

“And if the latter doesn’t happen, it will crash into the docking arms to our port side,” he nodded in understanding.

For the next 30 seconds we watched as KDY scrambled emergency rescue teams, S&R shuttles and space became a messy chaotic nightmare of small craft trying their best to save as many lives as possible.

And with every second, the drifting Mandator-II grew larger and no response from its bridge.

“That’s it,” I declared. “Nav, undock us from KDY, full ventral thruster burn. Give us a 20km z positive clearance from the Ring.”

“Confirmed, General. Undocking, ventral burn.”

I felt the shudder through the hull as the heavy arms let go of the Conqueror.

That prompted a small sigh of relief. After the mess at Broest, I never wanted to be a sitting duck whilst docked to a station ever again.  

The docking ring fell downward as the Conqueror maneuvered clear.

“Comms to Tano. General, I have a Lieutenant Cofelt on a link from the Dreadnought.”

“Put him through.”

“G-g- general Tano?!” The voice was young, panicked and it felt like a lead weight dropped into my stomach. My perceptions surged forward through the comlink and perceived Cofelt’s surroundings.

The bridge of the new Mandator-II mirrored the philosophy of the ship itself; near overwhelming scale combined with Kuati precision.

A vast space, nearly triple that of a Venator’s bridge, with a high vaulted ceiling reinforced by thick structural spars. The forward wall was dominated by an enormous multi-layered viewport of transparisteel, offering a commanding view across the ship’s broad, wedge-shaped bow and the open space beyond. Secondary viewports and interactive holographic projection arrays lined the sides.

A command walkway ran down the center, elevated above the main deck. From there the ship’s captain, admiral, and senior officers oversaw operations. The walkway was broad enough for several officers to stand abreast and was edged with low safety rails and integrated holographic displays. Deep crew pits were filled with rows of control stations that would be manned by dozens of officers and technicians. The pits were tiered, giving the impression of a small amphitheater of glowing consoles, status boards, and repeating tactical holos.

It should’ve been an atmosphere of tremendous commanding power. 

There was only death and ruin.

I beheld the aftermath of a battle where clones, officers and yard techs had fought against BX commandos and Magnaguards, with initial surprise going to the droids, then a hasty defense and the sheer scale of the bridge had allowed the tables to be turned.

There was only a single survivor.

Cofelt was slumped against a com station in one of the crew pits, clutching at a blaster wound in his side, with a pistol weakly held in his left hand.

“Lieutenant, listen to me very carefully. No need to waste your time explaining. The dreadnought is free from the Ring. It will impact against the yard arm and given the sabotage to emergency containment fields, it will cause another breach that will kill yet more thousands. You need to fire the dorsal thrusters. Can you do that?!”

He groaned and hissed with pain. Gazing around the crew pit he was currently in. “I- I will try… General.”

Cofelt was a human in his early twenties, and he practically dragged himself away from the com station, barely keeping his own balance before catching himself at the next station over.

He hissed and groaned in pain, the blaster clattering to the floor.

I pushed outwards with Battle Meditation, catching the skeleton crew on the dreadnought briefly before focusing on only the bridge superstructure and Cofelt himself.

“Good job, Cofelt. Keep going.”

He practically screamed against the pain, pushing off the next station to catch himself on the ladder of the crew pit he was in.

His hands almost slipped on the rungs, as they were slick with his own blood, but he managed to steady himself.

There was no way he would have the strength to climb it.

Through the Force, I focused as hard as I practically could, pushing as much healing towards the wound without killing him, focusing on getting the platelets to clot, deadening his nerves to pain and pinching as many damaged blood vessels closed. It also made me realize how young he actually was, barely 20 years, as certain parts of his skeleton were still growing and hadn’t settled into an adult form.

With the pain gone, he focused and found the strength to climb one rung, then another.

“You’re doing fine, Cofelt. I’m going to help you with the last few rungs, so don’t be alarmed.”

“W- wh- what?”

I raised my hands to help my focus further and closed them, focusing two planes of kinetic force underneath his butt and lifted.

“Wha! Whoah!”

He cleared the walls of the crew pit and up, hovering over the command walkway.

I let him down gently before transferring my support under his arms.

He dangled like a puppet on invisible strings briefly, before he managed to get his legs underneath him, finding an awkward balance against the invisible TK.

A few tentative steps later, we were too far from the com station for him to hear my voice, so I switched to telepathy through the link of Battle Meditation.

‘I’m still here. Keep going, Lieutenant.’

He limped forward, slow step dragging into another slow step. His focus was only on the distant helm station, that to his mind seemed kilometers away, but was only about 80 meters. New pain assaulted him from his stomach and he reflexively clutched there. I had to hurriedly resolve the blood clot before it could go somewhere critical.

His breath was speeding up and blood pressure was not looking good.

Immediately I was fighting the insidious notion that I needed to be there… it would be so much easier… NO. Distance matters not! I plunged into his subconscious mind, beginning to massage the autonomic systems to stop screwing up and work properly!

‘Where are you from, Lt?’

Slow step. He gasped through a dry mouth, “Metellos.”

‘Coruscant’s neighbor. Funny, as widely travelled as I am, I’ve never been there.’

“N- not miss- missing much. Floating cities full of ge- gentry. Groundpounders be- below. Join- joined Navy to get away.”

‘And here you are a bridge lieutenant on a dreadnought. I know full well how the competition can be for an officer slot here.’

“All- always struggled, with astronavi-” he coughed. “-gation.”

‘If you’re here, you persevered, Lt. You fought against these Seppie clankers. You’re alive.’

“Stupid …only managed to shoot two. Got shot… P- played dead… hid.”

‘You feel shame about that. Don’t. BX commandos with surprise on their side will kill anyone, even the most battle hardened clone. Experienced magnaguards will even give Jedi problems.’

My words managed to hit home, finally raising his spirits properly. He pushed forward with renewed determination.

The Force screamed in warning and I pushed on Cofelt’s back.

He practically collapsed forward with a gasp, but it meant the blaster bolt from a surviving BX commando missed him.

The BX’s lower body was missing, sparks and ruined electronics trailing behind its torso, but it was now crawling forward along the command deck, blaster pistol in one hand.

Distance matters not.

I closed my hand and a Force Crush turned the determined BX into compacted durasteel scrap.

My focus returned to Cofelt, who was back on his hands and knees, staring at the dead BX with fear, his breath coming in panicked, rapid gasps.

‘You’re fine, Lt.’

“N-not fine!” His voice was hoarse and nearly hysterical.

Great, my battle meditation had slipped off him. I reapplied it and said forcefully, ‘You are fine. I’m healing you. You are an officer of the Republic Navy! You will do your duty, Lieutenant!’

“Y- yes. Yes, I’m an officer. It’s my job, my duty.” He groaned with effort and didn’t bother getting up, steadily doing a slow leopard crawl towards the helm station.

The next obstacle was to actually get down into the crew pit containing that station. He paused at the edge and stared at the two meters of space down to the floor.

‘Go, Lt. I will catch you. We’re running out of time.’

The dreadnought was just three minutes from impact at this point.

He pulled hard at the edge, bringing himself closer and intending to just roll over into the crew pit. Unfortunately, this tore at his injury, and while he didn’t feel it thanks to my intervention, it meant he hadn’t moderated his movement.

My hands reflexively cupped themselves as I caught him with a shifting plane of TK before he could fall and impact on the floor.

Instead of letting him down gently, I levitated him forward.

It was becoming easier, which itself was not a good sign.

Finally, Cofelt reached the helm and I carefully deposited him into the chair.

At first, he just slumped back into it, staring at the array of blinking controls and interactive holofields. My focus quickly returned to stemming the renewed bleeding.

‘LT, you need to lift the bridge control lockdown. Hurry!’

He groaned and hissed as he leaned forward, collapsing onto his elbows against the console. Hands slick with his own blood, slipped over the touchscreens and haptic holos. He began tapping on the Aurebesh holokeys, one slow letter at a time. My focus was completely on everything I could do to keep his body stable and mind alert.

The security protocol lockdown was why I couldn’t just Mecha-Deru every bridge system through him.

He tapped the last few keys and pulled the code cylinder from his lapel and stabbed it directly into the logic port.

“Auth- authorize. Anti-boarding- protocol… de-  deactivate!”

The red holos and dead controls came to life, switching colors to cool active blues.

He stuck his hand straight through a haptic thruster control and pulled it up to max.

Every dorsal thruster of the as yet unnamed and unfinished dreadnought burst into brilliant life.

Now it was only a question of physics.

Would 8 km of warship move z-negative fast enough to avoid the docking strut that was being swung at it like a baseball bat?

I couldn’t spare the thought to answer or check, I was too busy trying to keep Cofelt alive.

Had I pushed him too hard?

Was I fighting a losing battle?

I felt a hand touching my shoulder… Master Agnook.

“Open yourself up, Padawan. Let our strength help you.”

Master Las, Diis and Vaar came to stand behind me and placed their palms on my back.

I smothered a gasp as not just the ‘river’ of the Force began supporting me, it was more like a finely controlled flash flood, stemming from oceans!

My will plunged forward, perceiving every failing bodily system, the shock, the toxicity of the blood, the wreckage the shot had made of Cofelt’s lower intestines, seared muscle and shocked organs. 

The wound fought me. The body kept trying to shut down while I worked.

Every time I stabilize one system, clotting a major vessel, coaxing a damaged organ to keep functioning; another crisis. It is a constant, exhausting triage conducted entirely through the Force across hundreds of kilometers of empty space.

The specter of doubt was rising over me.

No.

The Masters around me are patient, Agnook had also been a healer more than 40 years ago, his guidance shored me up. There are moments when the healing current slips, when Cofelt’s life force dims, and I have to claw it back with sheer will. Each recovery costs more than the last.

I put out of my mind that the dreadnought had successfully evaded the docking arms, slipping underneath with a clearance of just 11 meters.

My perception of time began to fray.

Soon, I ask the question. My mind’s eye amidst organic human systems, How long have we been working?

Agnook’s mind gives me a reproving emotion. The Masters’ presence was both support and pressure, they would not let me fail by exhaustion, however long it takes, but I was the bridge, the contact.

All thought of failure, banished.

There was only one intention; hold him, do not let go.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888

“Ahsoka.”

I was halfway through my shift in the command chair and gazed at Anakin out of the corner of my eye, whilst most of my attention was on a singular datapad in my lap.

His helmet was off, hair clumped with sweat, his armor even had a few scorch marks from near-misses and direct hits from a Magnaguard’s electrostaff. I sensed he could still run a marathon if he had to, but the last eight hours of running battles along the KDY Ring had clearly taken its toll.

Battles I would’ve liked to be a part of.

Duty to my ship and its crew prevented that, just in case the sabotage had been a prelude to a CIS deep strike, however unlikely it was. The closest enemy fleets were six sectors away, with the entire eastern GAR flank standing in their way. Yet, we couldn’t rule out that they hadn’t gotten lucky with scouting a new hyper route to strike Kuat.

I had to personally coordinate and lead the search parties going through every nook and cranny of the Conqueror. If BX and Mangaguards could infiltrate so much of the Ring and a dreadnought, then my ship would’ve not been immune to it either.

It spoke of excessive planning, years of prep and a massive inside job.

“What’s the situation on the Ring?”

“Not good, to say the least,” he rubbed his fingers through his hair with annoyance. “We’re not just fighting droids. There is a substantial group of powerful Kuati nobles who have rebelled, declared for the CIS and vowed that not a single new Republic warship will launch from their Ring. They’ve suborned a clear following among the dockworkers. The sabotage was not just a single blown up suicide ship and the dreadnought. This was extensive and layered, all over the KDY Ring… timed charges on key drydocks, corrupted control systems, or engineered ‘accidents’. BX commando units also eliminated key security and engineering personnel at critical moments.”

I turned my chair to face him and met his eyes, ‘Blissex?’

‘I checked. She was not on the Ring when the rebels began their strikes.’

“Which goes a long way to explain the situation on Kuat,” I said, flicking the datapad with frustration and gesturing towards the planet below.

“What’s been happening there?”

“Local holonet is down. My com department has been trying to make contact with anyone on the planet's surface since this nerfshit hit the impeller. Best they managed was with a few local hypercom hobbyists who had their own independent comlinks. Their explanations are fragmentary; one thinks there’s a breakaway independence movement, another says the Separatists invaded because he saw a droid column march right by his property, whilst yet another thinks the Kuati are in the middle of a civil war.”

“And the truth?” Anakin asked dryly.

In answer, my hands grabbed at the large holos before me, chucking most of them away until all that was left was a holographic sensor model of Kuat itself.

It was a verdant green world from space, featuring three major continents, scattered islands and oceans that were crystal blue and clear.  A deep contrast to the industrial nature that most of the galaxy associated with the kuatis. It was a point of pride for many of them, that not only had they built the Ring megastructure, but had also terraformed the planet from what had been a barren, airless rock into a paradise. A technological feat that had occurred during the early era of the Old Republic expansion. It was something which the current Republic would struggle to manage, even if the techniques and tech were still there, simply due to economics and politics.

The kuatis only built enough cities and towns to house their 3.6 billion population and carefully managed how they were spread between the Ring and the surface, to keep the cities from encroaching further.

I zoomed into the central continent and right on the equator was Kuat City. That continent had 23 mid range cities and a few hundred towns.

My hand gestured into the holo and an overlay fell on it; showing active, massed droid concentrations and confirmed areas of fighting.

“Sithpit,” Anakin grimaced. “How long must it have taken? They’ve smuggled an entire droid army onto Kuat itself.”

“Given how much bulk freighter traffic goes in and out to support the yards, not long at all, actually.”

Anakin visibly thought about it, “True, the scale of Kuat is not easy to keep in mind.”

“Which is what makes it a logistical nightmare to police. The Navy garrison here can only inspect so much without slowing things down to unacceptable levels that the kuatis would object to. We relied on them to make up the difference.”

“And all it would take for the Separatists was to find and turn a few kuati nobles to throw open the door.”

“The comms blackout is a curious thing. It creates chaos, prevents Republic loyalists from effectively organizing, but it equally hinders the Seppies.”

He nodded in agreement, “Yes, it could be a new tactic for them. An opening move on a world, we’re only on the first day of this attack, their initial plans and tactical moves wouldn’t require active coms. Droids would be programmed perfectly with those strategies, whilst STs could adapt tactics at a local level. Are there any indications of localized, low power Sep transmissions?”

“My RI department has been scanning, nothing,” I shook my head in frustration. “So either they’re maintaining strict comlink silence in this opening phase or… they’ve found a way to communicate despite local infrastructure being down. Most of the kuati communication is done with systems mounted on the Ring, but there are polar satellites as well to cover the gaps.”

“So send a technical team under escort to those satellites and we may be able to slice and restart the kuati com system in those areas.”

I chuckled, “Oh, I can just imagine how the Kuat family would react if we did that.”

Anakin frowned for a moment and practically facepalmed. “Their world is under Seppie attack and they’ll quibble about us fixing their mess?!”

“If the kuati have a defining characteristic, then it's a pride in what they’ve built. The Ring is sacrosanct, as is the infrastructure and their paradise world. Everyone else in the galaxy is here at their sufferance. Sorry, Skyguy, but we have to be very careful during this battle. Admiral Ozdig has ordered that we can do nothing that would be seen to overly damage or compromise kuati assets, even if they’re taken over by the enemy. Until we get word from Onara Kuat or any member of the ruling family we have to be conservative.”

A high pitched two-tone emergency chime that only togruta hearing could pick up came from my armor.

I held up a hand towards Anakin and donned my helmet.

“Yes, M8?” I subvocalized.

“Mistress, I just picked up a low strength encrypted transmission from Kuat, it’s on the emergency frequency that you gave to Mistress Lira Blissex. Text only.”

“Display it.”

Ahsoka. I am trapped with my father in a safe room underneath the family compound. Separatist aligned kuati rebels are hunting us. We’re shielded from their scanners for the moment, but it’s only a matter of time. I know you’re up there. Please, help us. 

“I take it we have trouble of the sort that only finds us?” Anakin chuckled ruefully.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I flicked the bridge comlink. “Comms, get me Admiral Ozdig.”

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888

“How certain are you, General Tano? This could be a ruse or trap.”

Admiral Fivonn Ozdig’s pale blue eyes regarded me with an assessing gaze, but that was just the default expression he had with seemingly everyone. He was formal, precise, and temperamentally conservative.

A career naval officer with the Judicial Forces who rose through the ranks during the decades of relative peace before the war, where he spent much of his early career in system defense and fleet logistics in the Core Worlds rather than front-line exploration or anti-piracy work. When the war began, his reputation for meticulous planning, adherence to procedure and deep knowledge of capital ship operations made him the safe easy choice for theater command of the Republic’s oldest and arguably most vital shipyard system.

As a commander, he preferred overwhelming defensive depth and redundant systems to bold or experimental tactics. He was not without courage, but he measured risk carefully and disliked being forced into reactive decisions.

He was not in a good mood at all and I didn’t really blame him, since he clearly felt that the entire mess on Kuat was his own fault. Yet he didn’t let that failure paralyze, no matter how undeserved it was. There was no realistic way to perfectly police any system, especially one like Kuat, to a determined enemy who had help from the inside.

“As certain as one can be. The encryption and message origin is confirmed. Blissex is a friend of mine and I gave the encryption. I also advised her to keep an independent portable transmitter that could at least reach high orbit on hand.”

Ozdig tented his fingers in front of a thin face that was lined with years of command stress, which the last day had only added to. “Do orbital observations and scans of the Blissex family compound support this assertion?”

I swiped at a holo that showed a live view from Conqueror’s sensors. “Yes Admiral, the outer wall was explosively breached by rebels with BX droids in support. The compound had some automated defenses that surprised them, but they quickly overwhelmed the defenses. There are now only minimal rebels there carrying out a search of the compound.”

Ozdig sat back in his chair for a few moments. “While I don’t underestimate the importance of Lira Blissex and her father, they are not exactly critical to the war effort. The fighting going on down there and on the Ring has not slowed at all. We’ve had incidents of kuati seemingly fighting on the loyalist side, then suddenly betraying them and causing havoc among defenders. If you go down there, there’s no telling who you may be fighting.” He tiredly massaged the side of his head before catching himself and was the picture of perfection once again. “Then again, this is the first kuati communication from the surface and it’d definitely help GAR and Republic morale to have something positive to report. I have Coruscant and High Command screaming in my ear to ‘resolve the situation’.

He snorted and shook his head with disgust, “Resolve the situation. I’d need half a dozen dedicated and equipped clone legions, to even begin securing the Ring properly. Never mind the surface. At the moment I only have your 96th and a cobbled together second legion out of the 501st, 34th and 202nd.”

“The Separatists timed the attack very well,” I admitted with grudging reluctance.

“The Resolute and the 42nd Fleet will be here in two days, Admiral. That will bring the 501st to full strength,” Anakin reassured.

“That’s good news, indeed,” Ozdig sighed. “Very well, General Tano. You may launch your rescue. Do me a favor, don’t get shot down. General Skywalker, you will remain on Conqueror and continue coordinating the 96th.”

“Understood, Admiral.”

“Ozdig out.”

888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Two LAAT gunships launched from Conqueror, whilst a Z-95 squadron from the Mandator dreadnought Immutable, was already waiting in space for escort duty.

I held onto the overhead handles and made a headcount as the gunships began the entry interface to Kuat’s atmosphere.

Ursa, Chewie, and six Mandalorian Blades. In support, two full squads of 96th ARC troopers. Rex was in the second gunship and it was packed with 501st ARC troopers.

It was probably overkill, as so far no Vulture droids had been detected in the skies of Kuat. Yet I wasn’t holding my breath about that continuing to be the case. If so many BX and B1s could be smuggled through, then disassembled Vultures wouldn’t be far behind.

Our altitude reached 90km from the surface, with the beautiful world growing to dominate the view through the side doors.

I keyed my comlink, “Wraith Lead to Treet Squadron.”

“Treet Lead, reporting. All fighters standing by.”

“Make sure your ECM is on and focused on a missile threat from portable launchers. Prepare for close air support once we land.”

“Roger that, Wraith Lead.”

The gunship began shuddering as it was enveloped with entry plasma, shedding velocity as quickly as possible and shooting straight on a trajectory for the western side of Kuat City.

I wound my way through the press of bodies to the small holotank in the forward part of the troop bay, getting a tactical sense of that side of the capital city.

It was spread across a broad coastal plain beneath the constant shadow of the orbital ring. On a normal day, the sky over the city would be filled with traffic, but now it was absolutely empty of a single speeder. The city itself was a dense, ordered sprawl of pale stone, durasteel, and glass; elegant in the Core style, yet unmistakably industrial. Wide avenues were lined with the headquarters of shipping houses, engineering consortiums, and the lesser noble families who fed the yards. Above everything, the great orbital ring dominated the horizon like a second, incomplete sky.

Columns of fire were climbing upward, spread evenly across the cityscape, but concentrated around the central districts, where the majority of the fighting was happening. Occasionally we could even see orange and green blaster bolts briefly shooting upward before dissipating in the air after a kilometer.

The western sector was older and more exclusive. The avenues were narrow and climbed gently into low hills that overlooked the city and the distant ocean. The architecture was dominated by walled compounds and private estates belonging to the senior design dynasties and high ranking Kuati families. Security here was discreet but heavy; gated perimeters, guard posts, and overlapping sensor nets that answered to planetary authorities and individual houses.

In the wake of the kuati Separatist rebellion, that was no more.

Walls smashed, guard posts were empty ruins and the detritus of battle littered the streets; cooling bodies and the burning wreckage of droids.

The Blissex compound occupied a terraced rise in this sector. It was an elegant complex of dark stone and glistening metal, partially hidden behind mature trees and perimeter walls. The main residence was connected to smaller guest wings, private labs and what was a secure holoarchive, judging from the intense heat emissions and power consumption sensors detected there.

In the wake of the attack, an entire wall had been demolished by a high yield thermal detonator, dead B1 droids and rebels were splayed out on a crisp green lawn around a destroyed turret that had emerged from the ground. The front door was reduced to splinters. The biosigns of seven hostiles were still active within the compound, moving slowly, methodically. 

“This type of urban terrain is a nightmare for a rescue assault,” Ursa declared. “The instant we attack…” She fiddled with the holotank controls, zooming out and pointing at a collection of nearly 40 biosigns and 15 droids, 140 meters from the Blissex compound. “That’s a local Seppie forward base for the neighborhood.”

I nodded, “Wraith Lead to Treet Lead, forwarding you coordinates for ground strike.”

“Confirmed, Wraith Lead.”

When we reached 40km and began spiraling down towards the Blissex compound, we watched as nearly every biosign and droid signature in the area suddenly began either moving or reacting.

“Wraith Lead to Strike Wing, we’re on their scopes. Stand by for evasive and counter-fire.”

The tension within the gunships ratched up and was my cue to begin a light battle meditation.

30km… 20… 11…

“Targeting spike! Launch! Launch! Launch!”

I watched 32 shoulder launched missiles of a type that was entirely new, climb up into the sky from multiple points in the western sector.

“The Seppies came prepared. They knew they wouldn’t have air superiority in the beginning,” Ursa grimaced. “Now the only question is, can the R droids on the fighters compensate with successful ECM?”

The answer was… mostly.

At first the angry red deltas in the holotank continued undaunted towards us.

A heartbeat later, 4 were spoofed, spiraled out of control, broke apart or detonated in mid air.

Over the next two seconds, more followed. The Z95s broke formation with the slower gunships and dove into the lead, their shields going to double-front mode.

The sky above Kuat City erupted with rapid cannon fire as the Z95s strafed blasters that scythed and swatted more missiles from the air.

More missiles rose into the air from the shoulders of droid commandos.

Despite the defense in depth, missiles snuck through ECM and counter-fire.

“Treet 4 is hit! He’s gone!”

“Treet 9, shield down. Major damage!”

Even the gunships opened fire with their forward turrets, sending streams of rapid fire bolts and swatting missiles out of the sky.

3 km to target.

The Force danced, then exploded from me as I wove multiple planes of telekinetic force into being around both gunships, barely larger than 30 cm, but it was just enough for the incoming missiles to slam into and detonate uselessly on thin air.

“Treet 3, damaged. Strafing enemy base!”

1 km to target.

500 meters.

The side doors of the gunships opened as a massive explosion climbed into the air, I felt 32 deaths in the Force among the kuati rebels. 

I jumped out, letting gravity pull me down for two seconds before igniting jet boots and diving even faster. The Blades emerged behind me and followed, flying into a screening formation around the compound and already shooting at kuati rebels on the ground.

I adjusted my trajectory, bleeding some momentum into the Force, and landed on Lira’s ruined lawn, channeling the remaining energy into a Force Wave.

Three kuati rebels emerging from the main house were sent flying back into it and crashed into a major wall. Two died instantly and the third had his back broken.

My lightsabers ignited around me as I cast my senses outward, searching.

There.

Two life signs, underground, sub basement floor, surrounded by a dizzying array of ECM and Sensor Masking equipment.

I burst into a run straight inside, following a mental map towards a staircase and leaped down multiple stairs at a time.

I recalled the Darksaber to my right hand, landed on the second basement floor and slashed to my right.

Only for it to be blocked cold by a blood red saber staff.

“Hello, Ahsoka Tano,” smirked Savage Opress.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888

A/N: Why hello there Savage ;-) This begins the Kuat Arc and a lot of machinations.

Have a great weekend and stay awesome folks!