The Dead Legion
The clang of metal doors closing, the hum of distant machinery, and the muffled echoes of tortured screams filled the gloomy corridors of the Separatist prison on Milagro. The place reeked of hopelessness and despair. Within these cold, metallic walls, lives were discarded like waste—prisoners left to rot away, subjected to the cruelties of droid jailers and the uncaring bureaucracy of their captors.
A group of prisoners huddled in a dimly lit corner, their gaunt faces barely visible in the flickering light. Despite their worn-out expressions, there was a faint but noticeable fire in their eyes. An older man with a thick Corellian accent broke the tense silence.
"They say Lelouch's fleet is hitting hard near our sector, trying to secure the Corellian Run..." he murmured, his voice barely more than a rasp. "Bombed three factory planets just the other day. If he's as relentless as they say, maybe—just maybe—our families won't have to suffer the same fate."
His words cut through the air like a vibroblade, their meaning sinking in. A younger woman with sharp green eyes looked up, a half-smile tugging at her cracked lips. "Finally, someone's got the spine to go after those clankers," she muttered. "No more running, no more hiding—someone out there is doing something."
"It's because we don't have enough soldiers to properly defend or attack. Only thing we can do is wipe out large concentrations with no proper defenses against overwhelming firepower." A raspy voice joined in from a nearby cell, its owner a battered and bruised clone trooper who'd lost both legs. "Don't get too excited though," he warned, his voice dripping with a mixture of cynicism and experience. "The droids aren't as dumb as they look. They've started equipping shields on their major bases, even on this hellhole. It's gonna be a tough nut to crack. Takes time. And that's time the general doesn't have."
The air grew heavy with the weight of the clone's words. A few prisoners exchanged glances, their brows furrowed with frustration and a hint of fear. An older man, his hair more grey than not, broke the silence. "If that's the case, then we need to buy him that time," he said, a note of finality in his voice. "If we can somehow take down the shields, just long enough for him to notice, maybe he can blow this place to bits."
There was a stunned silence. The idea was as audacious as it was insane. But the desperation in their eyes showed how far they were willing to go. For many, there were no families left to fight for, no homes to return to. But there was a need for revenge—revenge for those lost to this cruel war.
The slender woman turned her attention to the clone trooper. "Think we can do it? Keep the shields down long enough for Lelouch to bring the hammer down?"
The clone's scarred face remained impassive, but his eyes held a glimmer of resolve. "Possible? Sure. Easy? Not a chance. The shield control is likely deep inside, heavily guarded. And once we start, those droids won't stop coming. It'll be a bloodbath."
A younger prisoner, a man with sunken eyes and a face hardened by countless hardships, let out a sigh. "Better a quick death with a purpose than rotting away in here," he said. "At least this way, we can make a difference."
A murmur of agreement passed through the group. The slender woman, whose name was Tessa, nodded. "All right then. We move when then the general's fleet is close. We'll need to hit them hard and fast. No time for second thoughts. If we want our freedom—or at least a chance for others to have theirs—we've got to make this count."
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Days passed, and the tension grew.
The prisoners could feel the rising anticipation. Every now and then, they'd overhear a passing droid squad mention the movement of Lelouch's fleet. The murmurs among the droids grew more frequent, more urgent. Tessa and her group waited for the perfect moment, knowing that any misstep would be their last.
Finally, the day arrived.
A droid's monotonous voice echoed through the prison halls as it communicated with another. "Fleet detected in orbit. Confirmed. All units, remain on alert."
Tessa exchanged a look with the older Corellian. "That's it. Time to move."
The plan was simple: cause enough chaos to draw the droids away from the shield control room. The distraction team would lead the droids on a wild chase, making it appear as though they were trying to break out. Meanwhile, Tessa's team, with the legless clone trooper tied to her back, would sneak toward the control room to disable the shields.
The distraction team moved first. They slipped out of their cells and began to run down the main corridor overwhelmign the patrolling droids, and taking their weapons, shouting and banging on the walls, creating as much noise as possible. Instantly, the prison came alive with alarms. Droid patrols converged on their location, blasters at the ready.
Blaster fire erupted, filling the narrow corridor with the sharp scent of ionized air. One prisoner fell to the ground, a smoking hole in his side, but the others pressed on, desperate to draw as many droids as possible away from the real objective.
Meanwhile, Tessa and her team crept through a series of narrow maintenance tunnels, keeping their movements swift and silent. The clone trooper on her back whispered instructions, his breath ragged but steady.
"Left here... then right… take the next ladder up," he directed, his voice barely more than a whisper.
They followed his directions with a grim determination, bypassing patrols and taking advantage of the confusion caused by their comrades. But every step was a battle against time, a race to disable the shields before the droids caught on.
The sounds of the firefight echoed in the distance—a reminder of the stakes. The distraction team's numbers were dwindling; their pained cries could be heard as they fell one by one. Every second counted.
Finally, they reached a set of blast doors. The clone's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "This should be it… Shield control is just beyond. Expect heavy resistance."
Tessa nodded, tightening her grip on the makeshift harness. "Get ready," she whispered to the others. They steeled themselves, knowing there was no turning back.
The blast doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a squad of B2 super battle droids standing guard. For a split second, both sides froze—then chaos erupted.
Blaster bolts flew as the two sides clashed in the narrow confines of the control room entrance. Tessa darted forward, her body a blur as she fired point-blank into the droids. The Corellian man followed, his own blaster blazing. The firefight was brutal; there was no room for error.
A droid's heavy blaster clipped Tessa's shoulder, sending a searing pain through her arm, but she kept moving. The Corellian took a hit to the chest, staggering but managing to take one last shot before collapsing. The other prisoners fell in quick succession, their bodies piling up around the doorway.
But Tessa pressed on. With a desperate burst of adrenaline, she and the remaining prisoners crashed through the droids' line, reaching the shield control terminal. The clone, barely conscious, guided her hands to the right buttons.
"Come on, come on..." she muttered through gritted teeth, her fingers flying over the controls. "Almost… there…"
The console beeped as the shield deactivated. She exhaled sharply, a rare smile forming on her face. "We did it."
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A sensor officer suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence. "Sir, sensors indicate the shield over the Separatist base just went down.
The officer's eyes narrowed slightly. "What caused it?"
"Unknown, sir," the officer replied. "We didn't detect any significant impact or power surges. It's… like it just deactivated on its own. Maybe power failure, can't be sure."
A pause, then the officer steeled himself. "Lock on to the coordinates. Prepare to open fire."
The fleet responded like a well-oiled machine. Turbolasers lit up the darkness of space. The ground shook, the air igniting with the fury of a thousand explosions, as the Separatist base was slowly being reduced to a field of flaming wreckage.
Within the base, those who still drew breath witnessed the beginning of the end. Tessa, bloodied and battered, managed a weak smile as she watched the blinding light of the bombardment through a cracked viewport, uncaring of the droids making their way towards her and holding on to the dead trooper lying beside her. "We did it... we actually did it..."
As the destruction unfolded, the last of the prisoners closed their eyes, some with a sense of peace, others with defiance still burning in their hearts. But one thing was clear: they had made a difference.
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On the surface of Milagro, the scout team approached the remains of the Separatist base with caution.
Their eyes scanned the rubble, taking in the charred remnants of the battle. They found the shield control room, blasted open and filled with droid and prisoner corpses. The smell of burned circuitry and flesh hung heavy in the air.
The lead scout, a clone lieutenant, activated his comms. "Control room is a mess… but it looks like there's some security footage still intact. Accessing now."
The team pulled up the footage on a half-destroyed console, their eyes fixed on the screen as they watched the desperate charge of the prisoners, their courageous stand, and the final moments of Tessa's group.
The lieutenant's voice softened with a mix of respect and sorrow. "Looks like… prisoners took down the shields. They gave us this shot."
He continued scanning the logs, piecing together the story of their defiance. As he did, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration for these civilians who had fought with such bravery and conviction and a smile brightened the face behind the helmet as he saw one of his brothers with them.
Back on the bridge of the Venator, the report came through.
"Sir, we've confirmed it," the scout lieutenant relayed over the comms. "The shields were taken down by a group of prisoners. They sacrificed themselves to give us this chance, aided by one of ours. It's all on the security logs and footage."
"Bring them back, the general will want to see them for himself. Try and find something to ID the trooper, the general will want it."
"Understood sir."
*As the news spread—sometimes with assistance from certain individuals, other times on its own—it ignited a wave of insurrections across Separatist-held worlds. From this defiance, Lelouch's second legion was born. Not an official legion, at least not yet, and unlike any other. It was the only legion without a single living soldier on its roster—a legion formed entirely of those who had already fallen. It would grow to be the largest of them all, present within every world desperate enough, known across the galaxy as "The Dead Legion."*
A.N: I mean... you could still possibly, somehow by some stroke of luck survive... but then it wouldn't be as poetic... and I already kinda spent 4 hrs. on this chapter... so we're stuck with it. Hope u like it :) . Going back to Lelouch now as a few weeks have already passed and I've had enough of writing fillers. Just keep in mind, not going after every one of Anakin's adventures, Lelouch has much more important shit to do, and he is a high commander, not a frontline fighter. might just make a few paragraphs with Lelouch listing all of Anakins crazy adventures and looking at him funny. Brought a smile to my face just thinking about it :)