Hello, welcome to my first story. As warned in the summary, this is an OC story - although many canon characters will appear in it. The rating is bound to change, as this story will go to some very dark and gritty places. I hope you enjoy the first chapter, and even if you didn't, please leave me a review! Thank you.
The skies of Cato Neimoidia were so densely packed with fog it was difficult to tell who was friendly and who was an enemy. Fighters darted around each other and the tall, sky-scraping mountains of the planet, shooting if they were fortunate enough to get a good sighting on the other for more than a moment. Most of the hits today were exactly that – lucky. Master Plo had already told off three men for shooting blind into the dense fog. Now, the fleet flew around the seven or eight central mountains of the capital cities, trying to get lucky.
Koyav'ar cursed as she swung her fighter hard right, in order to avoid the mountain that had suddenly sprung up in front of her. The Twi'lek Padawan was not a very good pilot – she would much rather have a solid stance on the ground than this nauseating spin through the air. The fog's not helping, or the sounds this clunker's making. Gritting her teeth, she brought the fighter back around and steadied it.
Commander Wolffe was on the ground with a battalion now, taking charge of clearing the bridge cities and setting up temporary medical stations. Although she had already tried to convince Master Plo to let her stay, he had refused to even hear of it. "You must learn to lead men, my Padawan. And that includes battles in the air."
She had a good view of three of their own fighters, who were busy dogging an enemy around and around a mountain, and Master Plo's own ship, easily taking out enemies as he used the Force to guide his shots.
"Koya, how are you holding up?" Her Master's gravely voice came through the communicator. She shook her head, and pushed her fighter up to speed.
"Splendidly, Master. You'll be happy to know I've dodged five mountains and hit one."
"Did he go down?"
"No. I hit the mountain." Koyav'ar noticed a Separatist fighter sneaking off to her starboard side, and moved to follow him. "I'm on a droid fighter now, though. I'll see if I can get him."
"If Commander managed to get even one clanker down, tonight I'm buying drinks for everyone." Mach's voice cut through on the comm, his voice gruff with suppressed laughter.
Koyav'ar heard the other men cheer, and she rolled her eyes. "I'll land now and save you the trouble, Mach."
"Boo. Don't be such a spoilsport. I'll buy you one too."
"Mach, enough." Captain Jag's no-nonsense gripe cut Mach's plans short, "You lot, get in formation now." Koyav'ar saw two Republic fighters turn swiftly to join the others that were forming up somewhere behind her.
Master Plo's voice came through again. "Koya, I see you now. Try to get in front of that one and lure him over here."
"Yes, Master." Speeding up, she darted in front of the enemy fighter and cut it off, forcing it to turn with her. She reached into the Force, just enough to find her Master's signature, and guided the fighter to him.
With an explosion of shrapnel and fire, Master Plo finished it off quickly. "Good. Stay with me, Koya."
"Alright." Koyav'ar was perfectly content to cover her Master's back as he checked up on the men. This fight was going surreally well, with very few losses on the Republic side and most of the enemy fleet either chased off or shot down. It was simply too easy, as if the Separatists had given up this fight early. She thumbed the well-worn controls of the fighter and wondered when they would be cleared to land.
They had been in the fight for little over two hours now. She couldn't decide which was worst, flying around trying to shoot enemies in the densest fog known to sentient beings, or simply hovering, waiting for one to come crashing through the fog. Either way, her nerves were shot and her fingers were shaking from the exertion.
"Two more have joined in, sir. Approaching from the west." Captain Jag's no-nonsense voice scratched through the comms.
"Descending or taking off?"
"Descending from the station just out of the atmosphere. Shouldn't be a problem."
"Other than those two, the most I can see are four more. It won't take long now."
Captain Jag shared none of the arrogance that his brothers typically had during such an easy fight. Koyav'ar remembered Mach telling her that Jag had once gotten suspended from duty for using death sticks. While it had only been for a month, Jag had gotten rid of the addiction and sworn he would break the jaw of anyone who ever mentioned the incident again.
"Koya?"
She jumped a little, rocking the fighter with the sudden movement. "Yes, Master?"
"Head around the mountain off to the west and take care of the two fighters approaching from that direction."
"Wonderful." She gritted her teeth together and started towards the mountain.
Master Plo easily sensed his student's apprehension. "You'll be fine, Koyav'ar. All it takes is a bit of practice with these fighters."
The two enemy fighters were lurking around each other, as if they were as nervous to fly as she was. Four beams of light shot through the thick fog, which were easily avoided. They were docked to the mountaintop, making them literal sitting ducks, even for her inexperienced hands.
Commander Wolffe contacted Master Plo as Koya got into position. Since it was mostly confirming orders had been followed, Koya did not pay much attention. Against the ever-fluctuating background and the fluid mountains of Cato Neomoidia, the inorganic metal shapes stood out sharply. They were unnatural – they did not belong.
Koya steadied herself and aimed the guns. As she did so, however, a sharp prick of fear suddenly unnerved her. It cut through her like someone had slit open her skin, but it quickly faded. "Ugh," she murmured, rubbing her temples. Warnings like that usually left her, as well as most Jedi, with splitting headaches. "Master Plo? Did you feel that just now?"
"Yes. I was hoping you didn't."
"It felt… different than warnings usually feel, Master. Like…" Koya searched for the right word, but her Master finished the thought.
"Betrayal. I know, I sense it as well." Even though her Master had uttered the word calmly, Koya felt it was some sort of tipping point – Master Plo is frightened of something.
That simple fact made her even more fearful that she had been before. "What do you think caused it?"
Master Plo continued, just as calmly, "I don't know, Koya. I would prepare yourself, for whatever may happen." He was silent for a moment, before adding grimly, "I want to be wrong, but this day may very well end darkly for us."
Koya shuddered violently as her Master's words sunk in. Now all parts of her being were intent on searching out, and destroying, this unnamable threat. Faint pulses, like slow heartbeats, periodically went through the Force, but none like the warning they had just experienced.
She searched the skies again. The two Separatist supply ships, which were what the two must be, were still docked against the mountainside, watching the rest of the fight serenely. Other than the two in front of her, which were quickly shot down, it was relatively peaceful. Men were circling the sky, making sure no droid fighter remained.
As Koya watched the ruined husks of the fighters burn and then collapse onto the mountain, she smiled grimly. "Mach."
"Yes, Commander?"
"You're buying at least two rounds tonight."
Even with her men cheering in the background, and congratulating her on her hits, the pit of her stomach was clenched tight with fear. The clones were feeling none of the extreme apprehension that she and her Master were going through. Nothing was wrong for them – the battle had been won easily and smoothly, with little damage to their own fleet.
The Separatist fighter appeared so suddenly in front of her, it was as if it had materialized from the fog.
Shit. Koya gunned her fighter away as fast as it could go, leaning hard right as she shot past the mountain. The droid fighter was so close to her that she could hear its engine as it strained to keep up with hers. "Master Plo, one's on me. It came out of nowhere, those two must've been decoys!" She threw her weight into the next sharp turn, but she could still not shake it off.
"Hold on, I'm coming."
Blaster fired sprayed from the fighter behind her. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the ominous rattle coming from her fighter, she pushed suddenly into a nosedive, all the while twisting this way and that.
"Alright Koya, I'm on his tail."
Through the small windshield, the terrain and fog of Cato Neimoidia whipped by with blinding speed. Koya could feel her Master close behind, and did her best to ignore the blaster fire that was fanning over her fighter.
A small beeping sound took her by surprise – her personal communicator that was strapped to her wrist. Frowning, she quickly pressed the activation button. "This isn't the best-"
"Koyav'ar, my dear Padawan learner. Listen to me now. The men are not on this comms channel. I am going to shoot the left wing of your fighter."
"...Master Plo?"
"Listen, Koyav'ar. Calm your mind, take comfort in the Force. Something truly terrible is just on the horizon, something concerning us as Jedi alone. If you focus, you will see it too. I will only do enough damage to force you to crash land. Aim for the bridge cities."
Koyav'ar was only dimly aware of the Separatist fighter behind her now. "Master?"
"Remember, I told you to prepare yourself for the worst. I believe I know what lies ahead of us, and it is not pleasant. Whatever may happen, know that I am very proud of you. Stay out of sight, and do not answer any comms unless I come to get you. Not for Wolffe, or Jag, or Mach. Only me."
Koya's voice was barely a whisper. "Yes, Master. I trust you."
"You have been a good student, Koya. I hope you will not forget me, nor the lessons I taught you." He was silent for a moment, and then added quietly. "Do not trust the clones after this."
Master Plo shut off the communicator, and then shot his Padawan's fighter down.