The two warring sides met under flag of truce in the capital city, in the central square where the ebony monolith memorializing Axxila's dead now stood cratered and pitted by blasterfire, shrapnel and slugthrowers. On the one side stood an athletic Twi'lek woman with cerulean skin, an intent expression, and a lightsaber slung low on her hip. At her side was a man in the all-too-familiar armor of the Galactic Republic's clone soldiers, highlighted with yellow stripes, command pauldron and the belt-spat known as a kama that was almost de rigeur for senior clone officers.

Standing on the other side of the square were their opposite numbers. There was a droid, one of the boxy T-Series Tactical Droids, head held imperiously high and hands clasped behind its back. There was a Gossam woman, face laced with scars, wearing the attire of the Commerce Guild's Punitive Security Forces. And at the head of them was a Arkanian in CIS blue, ash-blonde hair cropped short at the sides and slicked back at the top. He had a white scarf knotted at his throat with the CIS insignia pinned onto it, and he adjusted it as his delegation initiated the advance-the only concession to the wariness he was feeling.

The Jedi and the Clone Commander stood fast, folding their arms as the Separatist delegation approached. The enemy trio halted ten paces away, and then the Arkanian and Gossam snapped to attention to present arms in a Balmorran-style salute. "General Secura. Commander. I am Colonel Adreian Reiter, commanding the Confederacy garrison here. This is my senior enlisted woman, RSM Hem Zhe….and my tactical droid, TR-11."

"I am Jedi General Aayla Secura, and this is Commander Bly," came the smooth answer. Secura's gaze was unflinching, and she did not return Reiter's salute. "You're bold to have called this meeting, Colonel. They've fallen out of style."

Reiter's lips briefly twitched as both he and Zhe relaxed. "I believe that would be the fault of your comrade General Kenobi. As I understand it, General Loathsom was rather unimpressed. You'll understand if I don't extend quite as much trust your way."

"Big words from a traitor," came the Clone Commander's growl. It wasn't hard to envision the mask of cold fury behind the helmet; Reiter had seen it often enough already on different men with the same face. There was something different about this officer's disdain, though, almost as if he were personally offended. "The Judicials teach you how to shit-talk Jedi too?"

Secura raised a hand. "Commander, please."

Bly subsided, but the way his fists were clenched next to his blaster pistols indicated he wasn't about to forget the slight to his General.

Reiter gave Secura a polite bow of his head. "As I was saying. I called you here to negotiate terms. Not of surrender, I don't think either of us believe that to truly be in the cards. But I think we can agree on a three-day ceasefire to care to our wounded and collect our dead."

"Wounded?" scoffed Commander Bly. "You're leading droids."

RSM Zhe gave a knowing laugh at that. "Not entirely."

"There are several elements from the Kooriva Fusiliers and Gossam Commando groups on-planet," intoned TR-11. "They have been engaged in active combat with your 327th. And performing quite well at that."

That shut the clone officer up, and Secura moved in to fill the gap. "A total ceasefire? No violations by droid units or organics?"

Reiter extended a hand. "You have my word as an officer."

"You resigned your commission in the Judicials," pointed out Secura, frowning.

A pained expression briefly crossed the Arkanian's face. "It was one of the hardest decisions I made. But I had no choice. I hope, one day, you might understand my reasoning even if you don't agree with it."

Both parties ignored the scoff from Commander Bly. Secura stared down Reiter...and then slowly she reached out to take his hand. "Very well. We agree to your ceasefire. Commander, you'll send word to your troops?"

There was a moment of silence before the clone tugged off his helmet, revealing dark hair shorn almost bald, yellow cheek tattoos, and an expression of cold disdain as he stared down Reiter. "Yeah. I will, General."

"Excellent." Reiter looked as if he knew better than to try and exchange a handshake with the Commander. "Sergeant Major Zhe, TR-11, send word to all forces. Three-day ceasefire to take place, effective immediately. General Secura. Commander. A pleasure."

And with that, the CIS Colonel once more snapped to attention to salute, about-faced, and led the trio of Separatist leaders away from the memorial square.

In the dim red light of the Separatist command center, Adreian Reiter regarded the battlefield activity with a wary gaze. The movement on the holotable were perfectly in line with what had been agreed: Republic forces and Separatist droids alike were moving forward to pull back their wounded and dying...or at least the organic ones. The droid bodies had been left where they had fallen, deemed too maintenance-intensive to repair and reactivate.

Part of that had always struck Colonel Reiter as perverse. Back in the Judicials he'd had an astromech, a loyal companion and true, before the poor droid had been killed during Iaco Stark's abortive uprising. That astromech had been a better person than some organic beings he'd known, and the droids of the CIS army, despite the bluster of their manufacturers, seemed more than capable of achieving similar sentience.

One such example was at his side, reviewing the map. TR-11's red-hued photoreceptors were the same color as the holograms the droid was meditatively reviewing. "Three days was too much."

Reiter frowned. "What's that?"

"Three days was too much." Tactical droids had unique voices, and TR-11's was a harsh electronic rasp. "The Republic appears to have recovered the bulk of their wounded already. The remainder of the time will be spent emplacing and maneuvering their forces to better prepare for the resumption of hostilities."

"So we do the same." Reiter reached up to adjust his scarf before looking down at the map. "How are the Fusiliers and Commandos holding up? They took a lot of casualties."

"Regimental Sergeant Major Zhe reports the Fusiliers are operating at seventy-nine percent strength, and the Gossam Commandos at eighty-three."

Reiter sighed. His fault for couching it like that. "I meant morale-wise, TR. They're not quite as dauntless as your ilk."

"Ah. RSM Zhe has given no reports as to troop morale, but indicates that they are eager for, I quote, payback."

Payback. Between the heavy guns of the Fusiliers' beloved artillery and the sabotage experience of the Commandos, it wasn't going to be the clones who suffered the most at the hands of the Separatist war machine. "...very well. And your droids?"

"All functional units are combat-ready." TR-11 paused, vocoder lighting up as if they had more to say, but the droid stayed silent.

Colonel Reiter took a deep breath. "Go on, TR."

"You are crippling our combat-effectiveness," came the blunt reply. "If we are to secure a decisive advantage over the Republic, we must deploy our heavy units. We have HMP gunships, Homing Spider Droids, and Tri-Droids all ready to-"

"No. I was very clear before the Republic attacked, we are minimizing our use of heavy artillery within the city as much as possible." Reiter shook his head. "As it is I'm already regretting bringing in the Fusiliers."

"Then we will lose. The Republic has no such compunctions." TR-11's tone was a statement of fact rather than a judgement...but Reiter could sense the droid's irritation with organic sentiment, all the same.

"No," repeated the Colonel. "The Republic relies on those it rules to legitimize it, and if they are the ones pulverizing this world, the people of Axxila will never support them."

TR-11 turned back to the holotable. "I hope the 'people of Axxila' agree with you."

"So do I," murmured Reiter as he returned his attention to the plot as well. "So do I."

Urban warfare, reflected Commander Bly, was far more of a pain in the backside than a straight up slog in an open field. Yes, there was the omnipresent concern of minimizing civilian casualties, but every towering structure was a battle in and of itself, an inferno that could easily swallow up platoons and companies until the enemy within was entirely clear. For three weeks now his 327th Star Corps had been slugging it out in Axxila's capital, with precious little to show for it in ground gained.

And worse still, retrieving the wounded and dead was that much trickier.

"Commander! Over here!"

At the call, Bly turned and headed over in the direction of the shout. There was a small knot of troopers surrounding a body half-buried in rubble...and kneeling over that body was the blue-hued figure of General Aayla Secura, hands on the man's chest and forehead. The trooper had his head shaved bald, his face contorted in pain, but as Secura tapped into the Force, the man's face slowly began to relax.

Bly tugged off his helmet, kneeling next to Secura to take the man's hand. "Galle..."

Lieutenant Galle, one of Bly's most popular platoon leaders, gave the Commander a rueful smile. "Hey, Sir. Don't...mind me. Dip in a bacta tank and I'll be fit to fight in no time."

Clearly some of the medics had had the same idea, trotting forward to relieve Bly and Aayla, pulling Galle out of the rubble. Secura stepped back, folding her arms. "We'll see you soon, Lieutenant."

"Count on it, Ma'am," said Galle as the medics hauled him away.

Bly shook his head as he looked round. It was a similar sight being repeated all across Axxila's capital as the Star Corps tended to their own. It hadn't gotten any easier since Geonosis...but at least they had the General there to help them out. He looked over, giving Aayla a faint smile. "Still can't believe the Seppies agreed to this, Ma'am. You didn't pull some Force powers on them, did you?"

Aayla posted a hand on her hip and arched an eyebrow. "What, you don't think I can be persuasive on my own, Commander?"

"No comment, Ma'am," Bly said as he tugged on his helmet. Easier to hide the flush that threatened to come. "Good news is that we're making faster progress than expected. At our current rate we'll have recovered all known casualties by midday tomorrow. Seppies are holding to the ceasefire too."

The brief smile that came to his General's face vanished. "And why do I sense some surprise from you at that, Commander?"

Bly shrugged. "You really think Grievous or Ventress would have really stuck to it, Ma'am?"

"They are but two of the CIS leadership. Most of the other leaders we have gone against have been droids. Yes there have been exceptions-"

"-like that fat bastard Durd."

"Yes, exactly. But Colonel Reiter is a former officer of the Judicials." Aayla rolled her shoulders. "And still seems to be conducting himself as such."

"With the exception of betraying his oath and his uniform," growled Bly. "I recommend digging in soon as we've recovered all the wounded, Ma'am. Doesn't make sense for us to not make use of our lag time."

Aayla gave him a rueful smile. "Agreed. Give me final casualty reports as soon as we've tallied everyone, and bring the battalion commanders in to meet with me. The respite won't last forever."

"I'm on it, General." Bly hesitated. "...and thanks, Ma'am. If the Seppies see it through, this was just the break the boys needed."

The Jedi Knight's smile turned wry. "I try to look after my 'boys,' Commander. Carry on."

"Yes Ma'am." This time the blush did come, and the Commander turned round to trot off.