"Tighten your grip!" the drill instructor practically roared into his ear. An astounding feat, given how the sounds of blaster-fire filled the air as Owen, along with at least one hundred other recruits, drilled themselves in the use of a blaster against moving targets.

Child's play to him. He could fell a wild tusk-cat from fifty yards. Metal targets where nothing. The only thing throwing his aim off slightly was the automatic fire. He was used to one shot, one kill.

"Lead with your aim!" the drill instructor barked as he walked past Owen. "Fire where the enemy will be! Not where they are!"

"Sir yes sir!" every trainee within earshot grunted in unison.

"In one hour, you'll all be shipping our with the rest of the fleet, headed straight for Alderaan!" the man continued as he came to a stop beside Owen, peering over his shoulder and admiring his aim. Owen didn't try and impress the man. He simply wanted to do his part for the Republic, and for the memory of his Father.

He gripped the barrel of his blaster rifle even tighter as he fired off shot after shot. He wondered how his father would feel about what Owen was doing. He'd always said that serving in the navy was the best thing that had ever happened to him. When he was younger, Owen had assumed that had been because that was how he had met Owen's mother. But, as he grew older, Owen understood that Cleigg hated to talk about his experiences in the war. He said it had changed him, twisted who he was.

But at the same time, he had also always insisted that Owen know when to stand up and fight for what you believe in. This felt like the right time to be fighting. Fighting for the freedom of his home planet, fighting for the sovereignty of the Republic, and fighting for the memory of his father.

"Good aim, son," the drill instructor said, as he clapped Owen on the shoulder. "Military family?" he asked.

"My Father," Owen replied swiftly, as he swapped cartridges, and resumed firing. As he fired, a newcomer, a Twi'lek male, sprinted into view. He made a beeline straight for the drill instructor, presenting him with a holo-file.

"So," the drill instructor said, as soon as he finished reading the contents of the holo-file. "You are certainly a recruit I want on board, Mr. Lars," he said as he handed off the holo-file. "We're glad to have you aboard. Please return your weapon to it's proper station before following Bohki," he said, nodding his head towards the Twi'lek, "to a shuttle. He will then lead you to the command ship. You've been summoned by the Jedi."

...xxXxx...

"Stretch out with your feelings," Obi-Wan's soothing voice whispered through the air as he spoke. Anakin could hear him, even over the hum and cackle of his lightsaber as he moved it through the air.

He breathed slowly as he heeded his Master's words, opening his mind to the vast sea of the Force. His senses heightened themselves as he felt the very air vibrate with power.

His vision was blocked by a strip of black cloth that Obi-wan had placed over his eyes, in lieu of a proper training helmet. The point of the exercise was for the Jedi to rely on their other senses to compensate for their loss of vision. Some Jedi relied completely on this skill, after being blinded in the line of duty. Others, like Anakin, used it to enhance their senses.

Something clicked nearby. The Drone. Anakin sensed it was about to fire and spun his blade accordingly in a deft block. However, his mechanical limb over-compensated and his blade moved an inch to far, allowing the stinging bolt to slip through his guard. His arm stung, but Anakin shrugged it off. The minor sensation was nothing compared to the pain he had endured only days prior.

The Jedi Apprentice readied himself again, holding on to his blade even tighter now. "I'm ready, Master," he said with confidence. A snort escaped through his nose as he listened for the sounds of the drone.

He sensed the droid's movements. It was to his left, higher than his head. Anakin swung hard, aiming a slicing cut straight for the droid while holding it still with the Force. A move that was not exactly frowned upon, but not approved by some. Luckily his Master was the former, not the latter.

A searing hiss let him know that he had hit his target, and momentary glee filled him. He had needed that victory.

"Good, Anakin, good," Obi-Wan praised, as Anakin removed his blindfold, once more revealing the hull of the Republic Attack Carrier named the Sovereign. Crates lined the walls of their improvised training room. Mostly filled with rations and medical supplies, nothing too dangerous. "You're doing well," Obi-Wan said as he placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder in a fatherly manner. "Your strength has returned."

"Thank you master," Anakin replied dutifully, as he ran the tips of his flesh fingers over the scarred portion of his face. The Jedi Healers had told him that there was absolutely no possibility of those disappearing. Twi'lek nails contained a non-lethal toxin that prevented a full recovery. Essentially that skin was dead. But there was also no risk of an infection, which he was glad to know.

He would still be sure to get back at the Sith scum who'd given him the scars, however. He promised himself that. He felt the shuttle move beneath his feet, and knew that they had begun the takeoff cycle. "How long until we are planet-side?" he asked.

"It's a full day's flight from here to Alderaan," Obi-Wan replied as the two of them exited the small cargo hold. But before we leave the Planet fully, we will have to wait for several more carriers. Mostly food, munitions, ships and troops."

"More ships, huh?" Anakin smirked, "I hope we're getting a few of those Ion Engine Fighter prototypes. They're supposed to be top-of-the-line!"

"You and your ships," Obi-Wan said with a slight shake of his head. "I don't think the temple has ever turned out a pilot right like you!"

"Natural talent, Master," Anakin smiled giddily as a pair of blast doors opened up, and in walked Siri, and her young Padawan, Caleb. Behind them stood Bail and Padme Organa, and a select few Temple Guards. "Maybe you'd get better, if you ever actually took the controls."

"He tried that once," Siri snickered, "it took them a week to clean up the landing strip he tore apart."

"You two are joining us for this operation?" Obi-Wan said, raising his eyebrow as he looked at the young apprentice. Caleb was still inexperienced, even for a student. As far as either he or Anakin knew, Caleb had never been in active combat before.

"My mandate is to protect the Royal family until this situation has been resolved," Siri replied with a grin. "So, yes, I'm going with you." Anakin looked from his Master to Master Tachi, seeing the spark fly from one to the other. Love between Jedi was not explicitly forbidden, which led Anakin to often wondering why the two had never copulated their relationship.

"But not planet-side," Obi-Wan said, not able to keep the slight concern out of his voice. "You and your-"

"Master Jinn has agreed to take my apprentice," Siri cut in smoothly, "as well as to guard the Prince and Princess. I however," she grinned as she leaned against a support beam, "am going with you."

"Well I always did enjoy working with you," Obi-Wan grinned as he folded his hands together. "Anakin, you will remain aboard this ship as well." The young Jedi felt his heart sink, and something gnawed at his inside upon hearing his Master's command. His glee from Obi-Wan's praise disappeared.

"I'm going with you, Master," Anakin said surely. He needed to go. He needed to see things through. He needed to settle his score with the Sith scum who'd maimed him.

"You aren't ready," Obi-Wan replied, as he turned to face Anakin directly. His expression was a fatherly, concerned one. One that Anakin despised greatly. "Not yet, Anakin. This is too dangerous for-"

"Dangerous?" Anakin snapped back intensely, "I'm not a youngling anymore, Master!"

"I never said that," Obi-Wan sighed as he tried to place his hand on Anakin's shoulder, only for the younger Jedi to pull away."But it's safer aboard this ship, Anakin. I need to know that you can-"

"That I will stay here like a good little Padawan," Anakin snorted with disdain as he thundered out of the room.

...xxXxx...

"We want to keep the fighting as far away from the city as possible," Bellus said to the gathered commanding officers as she leaned over the holo-table, which showed a three-dimensional map of the Capitol, as well as some of the surrounding terrain. "We will use the preexisting walls to our advantage. They have been outfitted with ray-shielding, so it will take continuous mortar fire to open a hole for their ground troops. If we deploy marksmen here, here, here and here," she said, motioning to several highlighted locations. "Then that will give us maximum long-range coverage. Heavy repeaters will be placed on the outer walls, with extra shielding."

"What about bombing raids?" A general in the back inquired. "Surely-"

"Heavy cannons will be placed in the centre," she replied, again indicating towards the area in question. "Providing us with maximum coverage, with no way for a ship to get in close, without being placed directly in the line of fire. Unless they fly underground, that is." She swallowed as the doors slid open, and in walked her Master, and his brother. "the only real threat would be a capital ship. Which I trust Commodore Ackbar to keep occupied."

"Why not simply encompass the entire city in one large bubble?" another general inquired.

"We don't have the resources," Maul replied sternly, "not yet. Besides, the Republic will not bombard the city to get at us. They will send in ground troops. No doubt led by the Jedi." he sneered as he circled the table. "Remember your training. Focus your fire on one Jedi at a time. Flank them when possible. Grenades are the best tool for bringing them down. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," the generals and commanders replied in unison. Soon after, they dispersed out of the war-room, leaving Bellus alone with her Master. A cold silence filled the room as she felt herself being stalked by her Master. It was the first time she had been alone with him since her fight with his Brother. And she knew full well that out of the two of them, he liked Savage more. Far more.

"Master," she said respectfully.

"A well-thought out battle-plan," Maul nodded, as he examined the map before him. He ran his fingers through the three-dimensional buildings as he spoke. "I have ordered a single heavy cruiser to stay in orbit above us. Captain Trench shall provide the necessary cover-fire from up high. That should give us an extraordinary edge in the battle for the city. Which is the ultimate key," he said, this time looking her directly in the eye. She almost shrank away when she watched a flicker of anger in his eyes, but she stopped herself. Showing weakness now would only anger him more. "The space-battle is a little more than a diversion for the majority of their forces. Undoubtedly the Republic will send it's finest warriors in the first wave. We will allow that, then we will cut them off from any reinforcements."

"Hit them as they get off their ships?" Bellus inquired.

"Precisely," Maul smirked. "When they are still getting ready for their assault, our fighters will swarm down upon them, burning the ground they stand on."

"Not much honour in that victory, Master," the Sith Apprentice replied. "We should-!" the words stopped in her throat, constricted by the Force as it wrapped itself around her neck.

"Honour is not the goal," Maul said with a tiny sneer as he curled his fingers together. "We are not here to save refugees. We are here to make a statement. To tell the galaxy that their Republic is weak and that the Jedi are cowards!" Even as he spoke, Bellus gasped for air as she was lifted off of her feet. Darkness swam at the edges of her vision as she contemplated fighting back. No, she thought, clearing her mind, that will anger him more. To the point of killing me. Just as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, Maul released her from his grasp, and she fell to her knees, gasping for breath.

"Always remember, Apprentice," Maul whispered into her ear. "how I found you, scratching a living from rocks on that abandoned wasteland of a planet. Not even able to provide enough food for you and your sister!" As she caught her breath, Bellus closed her eyes, hearing her Master's words with perfect clarity. She had long ago sworn that she, nor anyone she cared for, would ever be so weak and helpless again.

...xxXxx...

"Bureaucratic fools!" Sifo-Dyas snarled as he crossed the thresh hold of the ship's bridge. All eyes turned towards him. Only for the junior officers to immediately avert their gaze, out of fear of incurring the Jedi Master's wrath. Some senior officers continued to glance his way, however. But only Qui-Gon Jinn, Bail Organa and Wilhuff Tarkin dared to even approach him.

"I take it the negotiations did not go favourably?" Qui-Gon asked, folding his arms across his chest. Instead of wearing his more traditional field uniform, Jinn had now donned a set of black-and-white battle-armour. There was no mistaking him for anything other than a soldier now.

"No," Sifo-Dyas spat. "The Security Council has decided to cut our forces in half," he said miserably, breathing hard.

'But they said-!" Bail began to blurt.

"Several senators came forward," Sifo-Dyas replied, obviously annoyed, as he circled the centre console. "Voicing their concerns about committing half of our current forces to one system." A display popped up, showing the fleet they had been given command of. Three Heavy Cruisers, Five Light Cruisers, Two support & refit ships and one medical frigate. Less than half of what he had asked for, and a quarter the number of ships he had seen above Alderaan. He and Qui-Gon had done more with less in the past, but in his experience, numbers certainly helped win the battle.

Furthermore, of the fifteen thousand soldiers currently under his command, only five thousand were fully trained and equipped. The rest where volunteers who would need training before he sent them into live combat. He certainly appreciated their courage and bravado, but would have the ten thousand recruits for two thousand veteran soldiers.

The doors to the bridge slid open, revealing the only recruit that Sifo-Dyas was glad to have onboard. Owen Lars. From what he had heard from his contacts in the recruiting office, the young farmer had almost marched straight from the Senate building to the nearest recruiter to sign up on the spot.

He wasn't surprised at all. After all, the young man was obviously eager for revenge, and a chance to shoot the bastard Sith Lord who'd decapitated his father.

"You...asked for me?" Owen asked, tentatively as he gazed about the room.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said, stepping forward to speak. "I did. Unfortunately, our resources are limited, as is our time. Which is why you are so valuable," he said, as he clicked a few controls on the console, bringing up a three-dimensional map of the Capitol city of Alderaan. "You're going to help lead the initial offensive. Your knowledge of the city will be essential to a victory."

"I highly doubt that," Tarkin scoffed indifferently.

"Enough," Sifo-Dyas snapped back at him. "Our options are limited. A direct assault with the ships we have would be...stupid. We'll need a diversion. The mountains," he said, pointing to a small range just outside the city limits. "Is there a way through them?"

Owen studied the map for a few seconds, before replying. "Yes. I think so," he said as he rubbed his chin. "Maybe. Me and my buddies used watch and bet on pod-races in the old tunnels under the mountain."

"Pod-races have been illegal for sixty years!" Bail blurted incredulously.

"Hence why they were held under the mountain," Owen replied smoothly, before continuing his explanation. "There were at least two other entrances. I know about one that is city-side. The other is on the northern side," he said as he pointed, "right about here. It's been a while since I was down there. And I've never been in the actual pod tunnels, but I know them fairly well. On foot, it'd take a day to make our way through. On speeders would be faster."

"We don't have many speeders to spare," Tarkin surmised, as he drew up a list of munitions and supplies at their disposal. "Fourteen, to be exact. Even if we have each unit carry three soldiers, it won't be nearly enough to mount a full offensive." As he was speaking, the doors to the bridge slid open, and in walked Obi-Wan Kenobi, Siri Tachi and Caleb Dume. Owen eyed the latter, seeing just how young he was, and wondering if it was a good idea for him to be present. But it wasn't his place to say anything.

"I think I know where we can find more speeders," Qui-Gon suggested as he pointed to the map. "Local farmers are sure to have a few we can borrow." He said, looking to Owen for support.

"Yes," the farm-boy nodded in agreement as he set his hands against the cold steel surface. "And probably a few high-powered blaster rifles too," he paused, and looked back towards the soon-to-be-king and re-assured him, "all legally obtained, of course."

"Good to know," Sifo-Dyas shrugged before turning to speak with Obi-Wan, "where is your apprentice?"

"He's still on the ship," Obi-Wan replied simply.

"I take it he's not happy with the arrangement?" Sifo-Dyas smirked slightly.

"No," Obi-Wan said with a shake of his head. "So stubborn...I'll have to make sure he doesn't sneak aboard one of the transports..."

"You mean like we did that one time above Cato Nemodia?" Siri shot back with a small smile. "I swear that boy is a dead wringer for you, Obi. No wonder you two get along so well," she said as she gingerly punched him in the shoulder, in a playful manner. "He'll be fine," she re-assured as she patted him on the shoulder. "He's smart. He's good with a blade. And a crack pilot to boot."

"I know," Obi-Wan whispered, soft enough that only Siri could hear him.

...xxXxx...

"Unbelievable!" Anakin muttered, kicking a cargo crate with his foot. Almost instantly his foot began to throb in pain, and he sat down on the same crate, nursing it with his hand. He let loose a string of curses, aimed towards the crate, himself and his Master.

Who was Obi-Wan to think it was okay to leave him behind? Especially on an important mission like this one. For all they knew, the fate of the whole galaxy rested on this moment, and yet he was to be sidelined, like a youngling on his first mission.

He wasn't. By all accounts he was an exceptional student. The Temple's battle-master had given Anakin personal praise for his skill with a blade, saying he was well above the other Apprentices his age. And that he would make a fine Jedi Warrior in a few years time. Siri Tachi had even once commented that Anakin was far more experienced and skilled than she or Obi-Wan had been when they where his age.

He let out a slow breath, as he realized that his feelings might be getting the better of him. Calm, clear your mind must be, Master Yoda had often repeated aloud as he led Anakin, as well as the other young Jedi, through basic morning routines. He analyzed the situation, trying to see it from his master's perspective.

He felt like he might be close to seeing things Obi-Wan's way, when he felt another presence. He looked up as Padmé Organa sat down next to him, her simple white dress flowing over the edge of the crate. Two of her Jedi Guards flanked the door, staying well within line of sight, but far enough away to be respectful. Obviously they felt that Anakin was more than capable of protecting her, should a threat miraculously appear, in the few seconds it would take them to reach her side.

"I've never been on a ship this big before," she said, breaking the silence with a small smirk. "I've only seen them back home, at the loading bays."

"This?" Anakin replied, bringing his head up, "this isn't the biggest ship I've been on. Obi-Wan and I once had to sneak aboard a Mon Calamari Cruiser that had been hijacked by Pirates. It took us the better part of two days, because we had to crawl through the droid access vents!"

"What?" Padmé chuckled, "How? How did Obi-Wan manage to fit through-?"

"Oil," Anakin nodded as he recalled the memory in his mind, "lots of oil. And he had to cut away a few support beams with his lightsaber to fit through properly."

"It sounds like you Jedi lead an interesting life!" Padmé exclaimed excitedly. 'I bet you have gone on hundreds of adventures!"

"Jedi aren't supposed to get excited," Anakin smirked, again recalling one of Master Yoda's earliest teachings. "Or have adventures. Do our duty, we must. Nothing more, nothing less," he continued as he realized he was reciting Yoda's mantra word for word.

"Still," Padmé replied with a tilt of her head, "It sounds a lot more exciting than boring lunches with stuffy old men and women. Discussing the minute details of current Politics. Learning about electoral processes. I'd trade all of that," she said as she motioned towards the lightsaber that hung from his belt. "for one of those."

"Really?" Anakin said, as he unclipped his Jedi weapon and held it in his hands. He recalled the gruelling process which he had to go through to earn the right to carry it. "You would spend three days climbing the tallest mountain on Illum? Only to then descend into it's deepest caverns and spend days searching for a single crystal a quarter the size of one Republic Credit?"

"It took you that long to build your lightsaber?" Padmé asked, astonished.

"Longer," Anakin nodded. "Once I got back to the Temple I spent a week in deep meditation, fusing the hilt together until the Force told me it was ready."

"'The Force' told you?" she said mockingly, with a raised eyebrow. An expression most non-force sensitive beings had while discussing the powerful energy field. "the Palace's chief Scientist, Egroeg Sacul, told Bail and I that Jedi controlled the Force with the help of symbiotic microscopic life-forms called-"

"Well that's a load of Hutt slime," Anakin replied. "The Force has nothing to do with bacteria. It is an energy field, a sentient one at that, which communicates with those of us sensitive enough to it's presence." he finished with a sigh, realizing exactly what the Princess had done to him. She'd managed to take his mind off of his bitter emotional state, and towards a more fond memory. For which he was very thankful indeed.

...xxXxx...

Qui-Gon nervously gazed out of the window, peering out at Coruscant. He watched the thousands of tiny ships buzzing around it's atmosphere. Most of them where civilian and commerce ships going about their day-to-day business.

However, they where now joined by a large number of war ships. Most of which where being deployed to other core worlds. A small fraction were being held in reserve for the defence of the Capitol planet itself, along with three orbital defence platforms, and a shield gate.

The Jedi master also caught sight of the last remnants of their convoy linking up with the fleet. Two troop carriers and an escort corvette. He'd made due with less in the past, but still wished for more.

Against the wishes of both the Jedi Council and the Galactic Senate, he had reached out to a number of contacts that he had developed over the years. Mostly pirates and small-time criminal syndicates, and called in a number of favours. Waiting for them at Alderaan would be a sizable amount of food, decommissioned Military hardware and weapons.

He had requested those materials because he knew that once the Battle for Alderaan was over, they would quickly be re-deployed to another, 'more important' system, and that the people of Alderaan would need a way to defend themselves. And he was sure to have a wealth of fresh recruits to arm, as well.

"Commander," Tarkin said as he stepped to Qui-Gon's side. "The Fleet is ready for the jump into Hyperspace."

"Good," the Jedi Master replied, as he placed his hands on his hips. "Make sure the crews are at their battle-stations. Have the fighters fully fuelled and all torpedo bays fully stocked. We can't afford to be caught by surprise."

"Yes sir," Tarkin replied, as he relayed the order to his own subordinates. "Do you think we have enough firepower to win this battle, Commander?"

"Yes and no," Qui-Gon said firmly, still not tearing his gaze away from the planet.

"Sir?" Tarkin asked, obviously confused.

"Our weapons are superior," the Jedi Master explained. "Our troops have better armour. We have the largest Jedi Strike Force I have seen in fifteen years. But," he said, pausing slightly as he considered his words. "Our enemy has had time to plan their moves carefully. We haven't."

"All the more reason to crush them quickly," Tarkin reasoned. A sentiment that Qui-Gon would have agreed with in his youth. "With one swift stroke."

"We won't have time to," Qui-Gon replied, finally turning away from the window and strutting down the command deck of their flagship. "They will dissipate before we get that chance. But we can keep them on their heels. Now," he said, as he came to a halt, and signalled towards the communication station. "All ships, prepare to make the jump into Hyperspace on my mark. Once we arrive, things will start to get hectic really quickly...Mark!" he barked, and in the blink of an eye, every single ship sped away in the same direction, aiming directly for Alderaan.

None of them knew it yet, but the next twelve hours would define the Galaxy for decades to come.