Alto Stratus stood in the village of Tassan, his birthplace and secret stronghold for years. The mountains surrounding the village, rich in dense minerals, scrambled sensors, making it an ideal hideout. His gaze fixed on the massive construct being built in the centre, resembling an engine. Count Dooku had informed him it was a prototype weather modification device, designed to abate the storms and ensure consistent supply and reinforcement deliveries. This was crucial for subjugating the millions of loyalists, even after the Republic's defeat.
His fingers twitched as they traced the outline of his blaster pistol. Victory was so close, with the Republic forces pushed to their last stronghold. An all-out assault would soon wipe them off the face of the planet. Yet, the thought didn't bring him pleasure or happiness. He knew why. He had traded one collar for another, and the uncertainty of whether this new master would be any better gnawed at him. All he wanted was freedom for his people.
As Alto walked through his base, he entered the medical bay. The sight of Tol Skorr, the Sith Acolyte, lying on the table as a medical droid worked on him, brought a smirk to Alto's face. Tol's lightsaber wound was being sealed, and artificial skin was grafted onto his body. "What a pathetic sight for a supposed superior Force wielder," Alto mocked, making his presence known.
Tol scowled up at him, his eyes burning with a desire to choke the life out of Alto. But he noticed Alto's hand resting on a blaster pistol, ready to fire at any sign of aggression. "What do you want, Stratus?" Tol growled.
"I want to know if you'll be healed by the time we launch our offensive," Alto replied coolly. "You aren't needed, but I don't want any more of my men being slaughtered by the Jedi than necessary."
Tol's anger simmered beneath the surface, his defeat at the hands of the Jedi still fresh in his mind. "I will be fine," he spat, his eyes burning with hatred.
Alto chuckled mockingly. "Good to hear. I'd hate for you to miss the finale of this little war."
As Alto turned to leave the tent, Tol's scowl transformed into a malicious smile. No matter the outcome of the war, this planet was doomed. The weapon Count Dooku had sent would ensure that. The thought of it brought a twisted sense of satisfaction to Tol, even in his wounded state.
Alto Stratus left the medical bay, his mind racing with thoughts of the upcoming battle. He made his way to the armoury, where Colonel Mazzi stood waiting. As Alto entered, Mazzi snapped to attention and saluted.
"Colonel," Alto acknowledged, returning the salute.
"Sir, the special requisition has arrived," Mazzi informed him, gesturing to a large, reinforced crate in the centre of the room.
Alto walked over to the crate and opened it. Inside, nestled in protective foam, were several sleek, black rifles. He reached in and lifted one out, a smile forming on his face as he admired the weapon.
The ST-250 rifle, a slugthrower, is the perfect weapon for dealing with Jedi. Unlike blasters, which Jedi could easily deflect with their lightsabers, slugthrowers fired solid projectiles that could pierce their defences. Alto felt a surge of satisfaction as he hefted the rifle, feeling its weight and balance.
"How many do we have?" Alto asked, his eyes never leaving the weapon.
"We could only get a few hundred," Mazzi replied. "There are more, but they are of much lower quality, and it's doubtful the ammunition they use would withstand the heat generated by a lightsaber."
Alto hummed thoughtfully. "No matter. There can't be more than a dozen Jedi left, most of which are children."
He tossed the rifle to Mazzi, who caught it deftly. "Try to capture some alive. I want to make an example for the whole galaxy to see," Alto said, a malicious smile spreading across his face.
Tol Skorr lay on the medical table, his face twisted in a grimace as the medical droid continued its work. "Are you done yet?" he snarled, his patience long gone.
"Almost complete, sir," the droid replied mechanically.
Tol reached out with the Force, crushing the droid's central processor with a flick of his wrist. The droid crumpled, its parts clattering against the wall. The pain still throbbed through Tol's body, a brutal reminder of the Jedi's attack. His spine had been broken in four places when that Jedi had thrown him aside with the Force. The memory fueled his rage. He would kill her slowly, savouring every moment as his lightning seared her flesh.
Exiting the medical bay, Tol took a moment to compose himself, drawing on his anger and pain to strengthen his power. He moved through the base, his presence one that the Jabiimi Commandos avoided. His destination was the Mass Shadow Generator, a device cloaked in secrecy. The Jabiimi and even the droids believed it to be a climate control device. Fools, he muttered to himself with a grin. The sight of the massive generator being assembled brought a twisted smile to his face. He approached Edan Rah, a man with a simple outfit but a large metal collar around his neck. Rah was the key to operating the generator, his family's lives were held by Count Dooku as leverage.
Tol used the Force to spin Edan around, glaring at him. "Report on the status of the generator."
Edan stammered, "We've managed to activate the device, but the coils need to charge. It could take weeks, maybe months to do it safely without risking an energy rupture. This technology is still largely beyond me." Tol's scowl deepened, his anger rising. The pressure around Edan's body increased as Tol's rage manifested, but just as quickly as it appeared, it dissipated. Edan fell to the ground, gasping for breath.
"Get it up and running as soon as possible," Tol warned, his voice cold and menacing. He left Edan in the dust, his mind already plotting the next steps. The Jabiimi believed they were on the verge of victory, but Tol knew the truth. This planet, and everyone on it, was doomed. Now he would head to Colsitice, there would soon be another shipment as the enemy had stolen the last one, he was told to oversee this one and make sure that it didn't get taken again.
Edan Rah lay on the floor, still grasping at his throat, gasping for breath. One of the other scientists rushed to his side, offering a hand to help him up. Edan waved him off, insisting he was fine, though his voice was weak and strained. He struggled to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him, and headed into the lab adjacent to the generator.
Once inside his office, Edan locked the door behind him, his heart pounding in his chest. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and his vision blurred with tears. He leaned against the door for support, feeling his legs tremble. Sweat poured down his face, mingling with the tears that streamed from his eyes. He tried to calm himself, but the overwhelming sense of dread only grew stronger.
His mind raced with thoughts of the Mass Shadow Generator and the catastrophic destruction it would unleash. He saw visions of the planet cracking open, entire cities swallowed by the earth, and oceans boiling away. Hundreds of millions of lives, all extinguished in an instant. The weight of his actions crushed him, and he felt a surge of nausea.
Edan's breathing grew more frantic, and he clutched at his chest, feeling as though his heart might explode. He stumbled to his desk, nearly collapsing into the chair. His hands shook uncontrollably as he reached for a picture frame, his fingers fumbling to grasp it. The photograph showed his wife and daughter, their smiling faces a stark contrast to the horror that now consumed him.
He held the picture close to his chest, his fingers tightening around the frame. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with sobs. "Please forgive me."
——————————————————
Jaden and his group's journey toward the capital of Jabiim was taking longer than anticipated. They had to take longer routes to avoid enemy patrols, and as they got closer to the main base, this became even more challenging. The frequency of separatist patrols increased, forcing them to eliminate entire patrols in minutes to prevent their presence from being noticed.
As they travelled, they passed through villages and small cities. With each stop, more Jabiimi joined their ranks. By the time they neared the capital, their force had grown to 500 Jabiimi fighters, in addition to the 100 clone soldiers they started with. Jaden was surprised at how eager the Jabiimi were to join the fight. Often, he had to turn away the younger ones, not wanting to expose them to the horrors of battle.
Despite this, he ensured that each village they visited was left with a cache of weapons and armour. The stolen separatist supply shipment had provided them with more equipment than they had people to use it, allowing them to arm the Jabiimi defenders. This ensured that even those who couldn't join the main force had the means to protect themselves against separatist retaliation.
The journey was gruelling. The terrain was rough, and the constant rain turned the ground into a muddy landscape, making every step difficult. As they travelled through Jabiim they found themselves travelling through old battlefields; Jaden and his group trudged through them, the scene before them a nightmare. Dead bodies lay strewn across the ground, their faces twisted in agony. Some corpses were mutilated, limbs torn off by explosions. Others were melted, their features unrecognizable, fused with the earth beneath them. The stench of death was overwhelming, a sickly sweet odour that clung to the air.
Destroyed tanks and wrecks littered the landscape, twisted metal and charred remains of machinery. The once lush fields were now a wasteland, cratered and blackened by the relentless bombardment. As they walked, Jaden saw the remains of a soldier, half-buried in the mud, his hand reaching out as if for help that never came. They stopped in a small village, or what was left of it. The Separatists had been here, and they left nothing but destruction in their wake. Houses were reduced to rubble, and the walls that still stood were scorched and crumbling. The bodies of villagers lay scattered, some caught in the open, others buried under the debris of their homes.
A child's doll lay abandoned in the dirt, its once bright colours now dulled by blood and grime. Jaden knelt to pick it up, feeling a deep sorrow wash over him. Jaden walked into a partially destroyed home, the smell of ash and charred wood filling the air. His group was resting in the devastated village, and the Jabiimi soldiers in his company were tasked with burying the thousands of dead bodies scattered around. Jaden wandered through the wreckage, his steps heavy with the weight of the loss around him. Kneeling on the ground, he picked up a cracked hologram and turned it on. It fizzled for a moment before showing the image of a family he didn't recognize. He wiped the dirt and dust off it before placing it back on the wall, a futile attempt to restore some semblance of normalcy.
"Master?" Aubrie called as she walked inside the building. She saw Jaden standing there, staring at the photo. "Master?" she said again, more softly.
Jaden turned to her. "Is everything okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes, Master. The Jabiimi wish to know if you'll attend the service."
"I have no connection to this planet or its people... it wouldn't be right for me to attend," Jaden replied.
"Yet they all want you there," Aubrie said.
"All because of that stupid recording," Jaden said with a sigh, referring to the recording of his speech. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing; he didn't know he was being recorded, nor did he know it would spread as far as it did. He hated the way people looked at him, as if he were more than they were as if he had all the answers. The survivors of Choal spread stories about him bringing people back from the brink of death, crushing entire tanks with just a gesture. It was all ridiculous and only served to make them revere him even more.
"I wouldn't know what to say," Jaden said as he continued walking around the house, doing his best to clean it. Why he was doing it, he didn't know, but it seemed the right thing to do.
"You don't have to say anything," Aubrie replied. "You just need to be there; they believe in you, so that's more than enough."
"They believe in me?" he said with a humourless laugh. "Well, I can say that belief is misplaced. I'm not even sure what I believe in."
Aubrie frowned as she walked closer. "What about everything you said? About saving everyone, ending the war?" she asked.
Jaden sighed as he sat down. "I suppose that's true. I do want to do that, but in truth, I'm not sure what ending the war means."
"Defeating the Separatists," Aubrie said almost immediately.
"Maybe... but I've been thinking, and in truth, I'm not sure things would get better if either side won," Jaden replied.
"What do you mean?" Aubrie asked, slightly confused.
"The Republic has failed so many people and so many planets. There are people on Coruscant who have never seen the light of the sun because the Republic would rather keep those they deem unseemly below. In the end, the Republic created their own enemy through corruption and blatant neglect..." Jaden stated.
Aubrie found herself looking at him in shock, having no idea he hated the Republic so much. "Why fight for it then? Why fight on the Republic's behalf?"
Jaden shrugged. "I've not been part of this war for long, but from what I've seen, the people that need the most protection are the clones and the Jedi themselves." Seeing the confused look on her face, Jaden told her to close her eyes. She did so, and then he said for her to reach out with her senses and feel those around her, to open herself up to them.
Aubrie sat still for a moment, concentrating. "Can you feel it?" Jaden asked. "The life within them, their connection to the Force, no matter how small." Aubrie nodded, though she had to greatly concentrate to sense it.
"Clones are treated as droids are, disposable, despite being alive and being unique in the Force," Jaden replied.
"They are born and bred for war," Aubrie stated.
"Do you not see a problem with that?" Jaden asked. "They are still people... it's not right to treat them as disposable pawns."
Jaden then sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry if I'm talking too much; I'm quite tired."
Aubrie moved closer to him, sitting next to him and pushing herself close. "Do not apologize, Master... I do understand. For a while, I've started to question the wisdom of the Republic and that of the Council."
Jaden smiled weakly at her. "Perhaps when you return, you'll be able to change things."
Aubrie didn't know why, but she hated the thought of returning to the Jedi Temple. "Would you consider it?" Aubrie asked.
"Consider what?" Jaden asked.
"Coming to the Jedi Temple. You could train to be a Jedi and perhaps assist me in helping make changes."
Jaden shook his head. "I think I'm too old to be considered for Jedi training. Besides, I'd probably be imprisoned the moment I showed my face on Coruscant."
Aubrie nodded slowly, suddenly deep in thought. She didn't like the idea of Jaden and herself separating, though perhaps that was the effect of the bond between them. Jaden took a deep breath before standing, which brought Aubrie out of her thoughts. "Shall we go then? I suppose it wouldn't hurt to at least show them I care," he replied.
Jaden extended his hand to Aubrie, helping her up. They left the broken house together, moving through the destroyed village. The place was sombre, with buildings reduced to rubble and streets littered with debris. They walked towards a crowd of Jabiimi and clones. In front of them were thousands of graves dug for the people who lived there.
Jaden looked over the mass graveyard and whispered, "I hope they find peace." As he gazed at the muddy ground, he sensed the Force beginning to swirl and gather around him. "Do you feel it?" he whispered to Aubrie. She nodded in agreement.
The Force seemed to rise from the ground, joining the swirling concentration of energy. "Quick," Jaden said suddenly, grabbing Aubrie's hand and offering his other hand to Scout, who stood nearby. Understanding his intent, they all linked hands. "Open yourself up," Jaden instructed.
He wasn't sure why he did this or if it would work, but he tried to link himself to everyone using the Force. While he couldn't do it alone, he had three other Jedi to work as amplifiers. Sweat poured off all three of them, and they started to tremble. It seemed to work as Lieutenant Orion gasped in shock. The Force was invisible, a sense only some could access, but Jaden showed it to them in a way they could interpret. It was beautiful.
A white energy rose from the ground, joining a swirling, galaxy-like mass. Some people saw it, others heard whispers, and some felt it on their skin. Many Jabiimi started to cry, reaching out for the ethereal sight. Even Aubrie wiped away tears as she witnessed the beautiful image of life rejoining the Force. The lights disappeared as Jaden let go, panting heavily and dropping to one knee. With Scout and Aubrie's help, he stood up. "They're at peace now," Jaden said loudly enough for everyone to hear. He hoped to give them some comfort, though he unknowingly did much more than that.
The crowd, touched by the spectacle, murmured softly among themselves. Some offered prayers, while others simply stood in awe of what they had experienced. The Jabiimi soldiers, who had been solemnly digging graves, now felt a renewed sense of hope and reverence. Jaden took a deep breath, his exhaustion clear. He had given everything to provide solace to these people. Aubrie looked at him, her eyes filled with admiration. "You've done something incredible, Master," she said softly, squeezing his hand. She had never felt anything like this before, not at the temple nor anywhere else she had gone before.
Jaden smiled back, in all honesty, he wasn't sure what he did, but if it allowed them to get some measure of peace then he wouldn't complain.
...
Jaden stood in the command room of the Hammer, surrounded by Aubrie, Lock, Scout, Zule, Orion, and several Clone officers. The atmosphere was tense; they were finally on the edge of the city's short-range sensors, ready to launch their attack.
Jaden activated the holotable, projecting a detailed map of the city. "Our first priority is deactivating the city shields and opening it up to our artillery. We'll be sending three small five-man squads into the city. One targets communications, another the command centre, and the last the shield generator."
"Won't we risk civilian casualties by bombarding the city?" Aubrie asked, her brow furrowed.
Jaden shook his head. "We won't be targeting areas with civilians. This is all just a way to draw out their forces. Without communication to call for backup and the shield down, they'll have to meet us in the open field."
"And if they don't?" Zule inquired.
"I'll be splicing into their system at the command centre. If necessary, I can issue orders to the droids myself."
"What about Stratus' men?" Orion asked.
"If they don't take the bait, we'll clear them out after dealing with the main force," Jaden replied.
Scout looked at the map, concerned. "Surely they'll outnumber us."
Jaden nodded. "They will. But in the shipment we raided, we found a couple of hundred proton mines. I've modified them with a 5-minute delay. Lock will be in charge of laying the field with them."
"After that, it's a classic ambush. We bombard the enemy until they're within 3 kilometres, then split up and get into position. The speeder squad will ambush from behind, and the AATs will cover the sides."
He turned to Scout and Zule. "You'll be the first squad, targeting the communications array."
"Aubrie, Orion, you'll handle the shield generator."
"I'll lead the squad attacking the command centre," he continued. He looked to Scout and Zule. "Make sure to deliver this message before you blow the array. We need to get Stratus' attention."
"And what will we do when Stratus brings his forces here?" Aubrie asked.
Jaden smiled. "That part will come later. Any more questions?" He looked around the room.
They all shook their heads.
"Then let's get to work," Jaden said.
...
Jaden stood in the camp's armoury, preparing for the upcoming battle. He donned a modified version of clone armour that fit snugly over his robes, allowing him to keep his flexibility. He strapped on a holster containing a blaster pistol and secured a rifle across his back. His utility belt was stocked with power cells, thermal detonators, and his splicing kit. Finally, he clipped his lightsaber onto his belt and put on his gloves.
As he was adjusting his gear, he sensed Aubrie approaching from behind. She entered the room, carrying his cloak. Sensing her intention, Jaden lifted his arms, allowing her to drape the cloak over his shoulders.
"Are you sure I cannot convince you?" Aubrie asked, her voice tinged with worry.
"I am. I need someone I trust to take down the shield relay," Jaden replied firmly.
"I know... I just feel uneasy. Can you not feel it?" she asked, her concern evident.
Jaden nodded. There was a slight sense of unease about the plan as if the Force was whispering a warning to him.
"Please be careful, master," Aubrie whispered, placing her head gently on his back. For a moment, they stayed like that, drawing comfort from each other's presence.
"It'll all be okay," Jaden said, though even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.
Their moment of solace was interrupted by the rumbling of thunder outside. It was the moment they had been waiting for. While the weather in Jabiim was perpetually stormy, there were times when it intensified to colossal proportions. During these moments, the separatist sensors wouldn't be able to pick up small groups, making it the perfect time to infiltrate in groups of five.
"Let's get going," Jaden said, breaking the silence.
(AN: Battle will be next chapter and after that we will be in the endgame, all the pieces are in place and now it's time to play. I hope you enjoyed the chapter)
If you like my stuff consider supporting me.
Patreon.com/captainalfie78works