Chapter 37: The Battle of Haruun Kal
Grievous bowed deeply when Obi-Wan stepped off the Umbra, a clone commander in black and red at his side and a positively enormous rancor crawling off the ship behind them. The cyborg eyed the creature cautiously, yellow eyes narrowed, but the rancor appeared to be docile when it flopped on to the ground, the Sith affectionately patting its nose before he strode toward the cyborg.
"Welcome, my Lord," Grievous rasped, his voice reverberating and metallic behind his skull-like mask.
"How goes the war?" Kenobi chirped pleasantly, and Grievous growled.
"The Jedi have retreated! All of them!"
"They won't be out for long," he assured the General. "Your slaughter of the clones has guaranteed that." Kenobi smiled. "Have you scouted the planet yet?"
"The droids haven't returned."
Obi-Wan nodded and leaned over to Cody. "Send the scouts to get the feel of the terrain." Cody saluted, replying with a swift, "Yes, sir," before he ran off to the transport ships, the hatches opening and soldiers pouring out of them in careful, practiced order. "I thank you for the MagnaGuard you sent me, my friend. They have been extremely useful in training my troops."
Grievous' organic lungs puffed his metallic chest with pride. "I told you they would be satisfactory."
"I never doubted you." He clapped the cyborg on the arm and led him off to where the clones were swiftly assembling a base of operations, the command tent already erected and the identical men laughing and joking at the expense of the droids that were getting caught in the muddy ground of the humid jungle. "What do you know about this planet?"
"Count Dooku didn't tell me much," he growled, ducking to get under the low entryway of the command tent. It was large enough for a human to walk through, but far too small for the towering cyborg. "I was sent to this system. I have been fighting the Republic all over it."
Kenobi smirked. "May I enlighten you?"
"Please."
"This planet is home to the Korunnai, genetically identical to humans in every way, except for one thing." Obi-Wan grinned. "They are all Force sensitive." Grievous snarled, and the Sith just laughed at him. "Not Jedi, though quite a few come from here, including Master Mace Windu." He closed his eyes, allowing the Force to flow through him. It was strong here, not quite a nexus of Force energy, but it was very, very close. He could feel it in the people, in its animals, in the plants themselves and in the images that flashed through his mind, he saw Mace Windu, his intense face narrowed in anger. "I would bet my command ship that he's on the way to fight, so you'll get your wish of fighting the Jedi soon enough."
Grievous cackled, his yellow eyes lighting with delight. "And I will fight this Jedi?"
"If you like. The Jedi rarely travel alone, so you can expect him to bring friends. They will work together, but Jedi nearly always split up. They believe they will maximize the people they can save by covering more ground, but it really just leads to splitting their forces and inviting twice as many problems. In this case, you and me."
Grievous slouched over and looked out the opening of the command tent when a loud, high pitched roar split the air. The Sith didn't move. "Are there predators on this planet?"
Kenobi grinned. "Besides us? Yes, a few, which I intend to use against the Republic. What you heard was my rancor. His brothers have arrived."
"You have more than one?" the cyborg wheezed, looking out of the tent once again and seeing the rancor in question, the enormous beast towering over two others as a company of clones began to fit the horned creatures with armor. "You have three?"
"For now." Kenobi rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry if that isn't enough for you, Grievous, I'm working on getting some more, but finding time to get to Felucia has been difficult."
"I'm not complaining," Grievous said swiftly, eyes turning back to the Sith. "How are you supposed to kill one of those things?"
"You aren't, that's the point." The comlink on his wrist began to beep, and with a sigh, Kenobi fished out a small, disc shaped holoprojector from his robes, tapping the device on his wrist to link up with the holographic device, and the little disc whirred to life, projecting a tiny image of a clone. The man saluted.
"Sir! Republic Star Destroyer Alliance has entered the planet's orbit. The crew has been contacted, and we have declared ourselves non-hostile. The Generals on board seemed to accept this, and they are en route to the planet via clone transporter shuttle with approximately one thousand soldiers."
Kenobi whistled. "The entire battalion?" He turned to Grievous, smiling. "They're expecting us." The General laughed harshly, and Kenobi turned his yellow eyes back to the hologram. "Have you scanned the ship?"
"Yes, sir. There's an additional battalion on board to serve as reenforcements, if need be."
Kenobi nodded. "And the Jedi?"
"Two, sir. Our records matched the Jedi with General Mace Windu and General Depa Billaba. The clone battalions they employ are the 187th Legion and the Horn Company, and our records from Kamino confirm the identity of their Generals."
The Sith Lord smiled. "Well done, Longshot. Command the Malevolence to aid you and the Liberator in blocking all outsystem communications. I don't want them calling for help."
"Understood, sir."
"If you see them launch any ships from this moment on, shoot them down and engage the Alliance. It isn't a problem if reenforcements make it planet-side, but I don't want any ships leaving the system and going for help. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir." Kenobi flicked off the hologram, and flashed a smile at Grievous.
"Are you ready?"
"They only sent two Jedi?" Grievous rasped, disbelieving. "That won't be enough."
"You wouldn't say that if you knew the Jedi in question. Mace Windu is the finest duelist in the Jedi Order, and Depa Billaba was once his student and one of the finest Jedi ever produced. They are each worth ten of their brothers and sisters, they sit on the Jedi High Council for a reason."
Grievous scoffed. "You speak highly of them, like you respect those Jedi filth."
"I do respect them. As warriors, they are peerless, any fool can see that, and only a fool would look down on them." Grievous' eyes narrowed and he growled, but Kenobi paid him no mind. "At the very least, Mace needs to die. That's not a Jedi I want on the Dark Side."
"Afraid, Kenobi?"
"A Sith feels no fear. Mace Windu's strength is considerable, and were he to bolster that strength with the Dark Side and truly embrace it...I can't think of much I'd want to deal with less than that."
"I will fight this Jedi," Grievous growled, and Kenobi arched his eyebrow.
"Do you believe you can win against the best duelist in the Jedi Order?"
"Let me test my strength against him and you will not be disappointed." Kenobi nodded.
"As you wish. I have a...personal connection to Depa Billaba I fully intend to exploit anyway. We'll get our forces to divide theirs, and we will pick them off from there." Grievous nodded his ascent when Cody entered the command tent, bowing to the Sith and saluting to the General.
"Master, Waxer returned from his scouting run. The two people that inhabit the planet are in open conflict."
"I'm aware of their war, yes."
"They are fighting in the valley just beyond the ridge we are stationed on. He also reports that a pack of the native Akk Dogs are living at the base of a volcano two clicks west of here."
Obi-Wan brought his hand to his chin, stroking his beard as he drew up a mental map in his mind, consulted the Force for the right path, and he quickly found it. "I'll be heading there, then. Cody, you and Ghost Company will take the rancors to the valley. It shouldn't take long for the Jedi to find us when the Korunnai start getting eaten. Grievous, you hang back and send your droids in from the south. See if you can get them to seek out and destroy the native settlements. When the Jedi split up, contact me and pursue General Windu at your pleasure."
The howling of approaching ships could be heard, and the Sith, the clone, and the cyborg ran out of the command tent. The Republic clone transports had arrived, flying overhead and descending to land across the long, forested valley. With a quick, sly grin to Cody and Grievous, Obi-Wan ran off, using the Force to augment his speed. It was time to begin.
By the time the Jedi had arrived in the valley where the native Korunnai skirmished with the immigrated humans, the battle had become a slaughter. Soldiers in black and red clone trooper armor shot indiscriminately at the people below while three armored rancors rampaged through the area, mindlessly slaughtering in helpless, screaming people, and the largest of the bunch chased after the droids in the valley as well. The destruction shook the very foundations of the Force soaked world, and both Mace Windu and Depa Billaba felt the keen pain of the loss. Windu swiftly commanded the clones to action, the brunt of his force running in to aid the survivors of the battle, circling around the battlefield in an attempt to get to the gunmen on the crest of the valley.
"We need to do something about those rancors," Billaba muttered. Windu clenched his teeth, bringing his lightsaber to his hand and igniting the purple blade.
"I thought one rancor was enough," he growled, and Billaba smiled softly, pointing to the line of droids marching away from the valley toward something they couldn't see, blaster fire lighting up the forest.
"Where do you suppose they're going."
"I don't know, but I can guess. Some of the survivors were retreating out that way when we arrived, there must be a village in that direction." Mace's dark eyes quickly scanned the battlefield. There was fighting in every direction before them, their battalion of clones fighting droids and rancors and other clones on the opposite ridge of the valley below. "I'm going to go help the villagers," he said, pointing his saber in the direction of the droids and activating his comlink to the clone commander, ordering him to disengage the rancors and follow him. With a swift affirmative, the Jedi watched as the clones in the valley disengaged the rancors and ran for the valley crest to join the Jedi. With nothing living left in the valley, the rancor's rage abated, and the creatures bent to gorge themselves on the dead.
"Keep as far away from those things as you can," Mace told Depa and the clones when they had joined him. "We'll deal with them when they become a threat again, but we can't afford to break our ranks on rampaging beasts before the planet is secure." The clones all saluted, and Billaba nodded, her eyes drifting to the north, blaster fire flying where the other division of clones engaged the living soldiers wearing black and red.
"I'm going to go help my men," Billaba said softly, drawing her own lightsaber and igniting it, glowing green light surrounding the area. "Com me when the village is secure, and I'll let you know when I've cut off the Separatist's retreat. With any luck, we'll have them surrounded. We should be able to force them to retreat toward the valley, and the rancors will take care of the rest."
Windu nodded and ran off, his clones following close behind him as he ran down the line of droids, his furiously quick purple saber easily cutting them down and reflecting back blaster bolts when the line of droids began to shoot. It didn't take long for Windu and the clones to scatter the neat, even lines of droids, making chaos out of their impeccable order, and in the confusion, the Jedi and the clones had managed to wedge themselves between the sea of droids and the terrified Force sensitive natives of the village the Republic now protected.
The droids kept on coming. No matter how many they destroyed, no matter how high the walls the metallic scrap of their frames made, more kept on coming, delivered on large droid transports that mowed through the jungle terrain as if the mighty trees were soft, new blades of grass. The clones preformed admirably, but there were simply too many of the droids to hold out for much longer. Slowly, Mace's battalion began dying. One clone was easily worth a hundred droids, but the droids numbered in the thousands. Mace's attention was drawn far off to his left when his clones screamed as they fell, their deaths accompanied by the sound of lightsabers. Narrowing his eyes, Windu rushed off and skidded to a halt in a space in the forest that had been cleared by the wide sweeping of several plasma blades, and he found himself faced with Grievous, General of the Droid Army of the Confederacy.
The cyborg's yellow eyes narrowed, his cold, metallic voice laughing harshly behind his skeletal mask. "Mace Windu," he rasped, the green and blue sabers in his hands pointed at the Jedi Master. "I have been waiting for this moment."
"Have you. I can't say the same. You're just another droid to me."
The cyborg hissed, his two thick arms dividing to give him four slender ones, and he reached within his cloak and drew two more lightsabers. Mace's eyes narrowed and he gripped his saber tighter. "If all you believe me to be is a droid, than killing you will be easy," the cyborg hissed, and without another word, he pushed off the ground with his powerful, mechanical legs and clashed with the Jedi.
Mace had seen the choppy holovid recordings from Kabal, so he understood that the cyborg was vicious, but he hadn't expected an attack of the ferocity that he currently found himself on the receiving end of. Grievous was fast, faster than any human, certainly, and Mace found himself having to fall back on defensive styles of combat in a swift retreat, narrowly avoiding the precise attacks of four sabers working in perfect harmony. He did all he could to maneuver the cyborg away from the village and his clones, where they could have easily been slaughtered by wide, arching blades. He briefly considered leading the General into the heart of his throng of mechanical soldiers, hoping the raging battle around them would detract the droids and the cyborg, giving his clones and himself an advantage, but he decided against it. Grievous was too dangerous of an enemy to deserve anything less than his full attention if he wanted to survive.
When they were a fair distance away, the sounds of blasters firing drowned to a low muffle through the thick, humid jungle, Mace suddenly switched styles, going from a frantic defense to a fine, focused offense, tapping into Grievous' emotions and finding hatred and rage. The dark eyes narrowed in focus, a sly smirk on his face, and Mace Windu began to feed on Grievous' emotions, allowing the cyborg's wrath to fuel his own powers and considerable strength. The Dark Side flowed around the Jedi Master, but never touched him, the aggressive style of Mace slipping effortlessly into the vicious Vaapad, and Grievous snarled in frustration. Of all the lightsaber forms he had practiced and mastered, this was the only one he fell short on. After all, without the Force, the style was not possible.
Grievous' eyes narrowed in rage, the golden eyes filled with malice as his temper flared, and the threw himself against the Jedi with increased speed, increased ferocity, the cybernetic implants in his brain switching lightsaber styles at random, alternatively stabbing and slashing at the focused Jedi, but nothing seemed to get through. The purple blade was moving so fast that Grievous could barely see it, the glowing weapon leaving ribbons of light surrounding the Jedi like a force field that blocked everything that came near. The more angry Grievous got, the better Windu became.
With a howl of rage, Grievous disengaged for half a moment, his wrists clicking loose as the locks disengaged and the sabers began to spin rapidly, the four deadly blades held out before him and rotating so quickly that leaves and debris were blown up from the ground, dirt and loam showering behind him as the lower two blades left long, deep gouges in the jungle floor. Finally, the Jedi's style changed. He moved forward, purple blade catching Grievous' two lower blades and swiftly moving them in a wide circle upwards, causing the cyborg to howl in fury when he severed his own top right wrist. The tide of battle turned, with Grievous retreating, and Mace Windu on a ferocious offense.
Grievous backed up as he defended, mimicking the tactic the Jedi had used earlier to pull him away from the fight, but now Grievous was leading him back toward the village, one hand tapping at the comlink on one of his arms when he disengaged and, crawling on his five functioning legs, scuttled away with the fury of Mace Windu on his heels. With the battlefield in sight, Grievous hastened toward his droids, still locked in combat with the severely diminished clones, and he hastened past them, boarding one of the droid carrier shuttles. Mace called out for the clones to stop him, and every remaining clone pointed their blasters at the cyborg General as the ship began to lift off of the ground. He was retreating. Mace's eyes narrowed in anger and desperation, and he reached out his hand, summoned the Force to him, and grabbed Grievous around the chest and pulled hard.
The cyborg stumbled, nearly falling out of the craft, but five clawed appendages reached out to grab the hard, durasteel frame of the open carrier, keeping him on the craft, but Windu looked on in satisfaction as he watched the General's chest plate crush under the Force of his girp, and as the General escaped, Windu could hear a rasping, metallic howl of pain, followed by a hapless, wheezing cough.
With the Jedi General back, the remaining clones easily dispatched the remaining droids, the village remaining untouched. A smile of relief passed over Windu's face briefly before he looked across the battlefield to see his men scattered around it. When the battle had begun, he and Depa had split the force, leaving them each with five hundred men. Now, less than fifty stood behind him. He absently activated his comlink to contact the Alliance, requesting for reenforcements to be sent, which the commander on the other end easily agreed to. Mace rubbed his eyes when he commed Depa. Weariness was not setting over him, but the loss of life was, the devastation here leaving the Force shaking with the pain of so many lives extinguished.
He sighed with relief when the beeping of the com stopped as it was picked up on the other end, but relief turned to horror when the com cut with an electronic whine, and then there was only static.
Depa Billaba didn't need to look very hard to find her clone troopers in the thick, untamed jungles of Haruun Kal. She simply followed the trail their bodies left. When she found them, the clones in white and purple armor were being corralled into a clearing and being ruthlessly shot at by assailants that seemed to be coming from every direction but beneath them. Depa ran in, her green blade grasped in both hands as she set to trying to defend her men, her sharp eyes finding their attackers, and, centering herself in the Force, she took off after the men in black and red armor.
When she began her pursuit, most of them stopped shooting and ran, leading her and the surviving men on a mad dash through the jungle and toward the base of a volcano. She stopped suddenly, a wild, vicious sound in the air, like a cross between a howl and a hiss, sounded through the air, followed by a chorus of similar sounds, some low, some high, but all hungry. Out of the woods behind them came a large, red, reptomammal with large, purple eyes and thick, spiked skin standing twelve feet tall. Billaba closed her eyes, and she felt the Force flowing through the creature, but it was dark and twisted, touched by the Dark Side, and the creature surrendered to the call. Behind the large beast came several others, the dark of the jungle alight with large eyes that reflected the green of her saber.
With a snarl, the creature pounced toward the Jedi, and she brought her saber around, stepping out of the way and swinging the weapon down upon it's thick neck. Her eyes widened when the creature hissed, but the skin was not pierced. The lightsaber had no effect on the Force sensitive beast's hard, spiked scaled plating. Her heart in her throat, she told her men to run, and the Jedi General and her clones ran, attempting to escape from the feral animals. On one occasion, she tried to channel the Force to stop or placate the beasts, but the creature only snarled and became more aggressive, it's own Force protection and the penetrating call of the Dark Side causing it to lash out against her use of the Force. Periodically, she would hear the screams of her men as they were taken by the beasts.
By the time the jungle cleared, they were standing at the base of the volcano, and Depa's clone compliment had been drastically reduced. Filing in among the slowly advancing beasts were the soldiers in the red and black clone armor, blasters primed and trained on the Republic soldiers. Her clones raised their own weapons, and all combatants opened fire. Depa did her best to deflect the bolts back at the enemy soldiers while protecting her own, but her force was too small, and the enemy too familiar with the weaknesses of clone armor, too familiar with the way they fought, too well trained. The Jedi had hoped these weren't clones. She hoped there were Separatists under there that had stolen the armor of the missing 212th attack battalion, but the longer she fought, the closer she looked, the more she knew that this was the missing battalion, defected, as reported, along with the Dauntless. She commanded her dwindling forces behind her, deftly blocking all the bolts that shot toward her and her men. If she moved to attack them, the snarling beasts would attack, and the clones would be left defenseless. She couldn't abandon them. Not now. Not at the end.
A low, deep chuckle came from high above her on the rocky slopes of the volcanic mountain, and she looked up to see a man in a black tunic with sandy blond hair. Her dark eyes narrowed. She never spoke to him directly, but Depa Billaba remembered the face of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The shooting stopped, from her men as well, and she looked in horror to see them pointing their blasters at each other.
"Alright, boys, that's enough," Kenobi drawled, stepping off the rock and sliding down the smooth dirt of the volcanic slopes, his long strides taking him to his soldiers, all of them saluting and the beasts that stood beside them waving their tails in submission. "I can handle this. Take these guys back to the base and get them aboard the Negotiator. Tell Cody I want him to send a squad over to check on Grievous and collect the rancors if the clones are all dead. I want to pull out before the Republic sends a ship to check on the progress here."
The clone soldiers bowed and disappeared into the jungle, the red scaled beasts following close behind them. Depa held out her saber, looking between her clones and the Sith, who smiled warmly.
"Welcome to my domain, Jedi," Kenobi purred, arms held out wide and taking in a deep breath. "Can you feel the Force here? It's everywhere."
"It's twisted by what you've done here!" Depa hissed, stepping forward, her saber pointing at his chest. "What have you done to my men!"
"Nothing!" he cried, stepping back and raising his hands in the air, showing he was unarmed. "You didn't see me do a thing, these clones, they're so unreliable."
"Draw your weapon, Sith."
He sighed. "You Jedi are so violent. I just want to talk, Master Billaba."
She observed him carefully, but could feel no hatred, no anger through the Force, a soft smile on his lips and those yellow eyes soft and amused. She gripped the saber tighter. They had warned her about this at the Temple. All who fought him reported the same thing. The Sith's words were poisonous, and she would have none of it. "Let my men go. Now."
"As I said, I'm not doing a thing." He laughed. "It would be an awful shame if they started killing each other! Oh, I don't know if I could take that kind of violence!" He laughed melodically. "I just want to extend a courtesy, one Jedi to another."
"You are no Jedi!"
He shrugged. "My mistake, sorry. It does get rather confusing, doesn't it?"
With a growl, she threw herself at the Sith, her green blade stabbing forward, and his red lightsaber seemed to come out of nowhere to effortlessly block it. He looked at her like he pitied her, and Depa stepped back, blade raised behind her shoulder and angled right at him. Qui-Gon had taught that aggressive styles would not works against the highly defensive Sith, and she had specifically been instructed against the use of Vaapad. It's close brush with the Dark Side rendered it completely ineffective against this particular Sith Lord.
Kenobi smiled, slowly sauntering toward her with his blade pointing at her face. "Before I left the Jedi, I was considered to be the Master of Soresu, and I've only gotten better. You would use my own style against me?" She didn't answer. "I understood that you specialized in Vaapad. Where is that now, hmm?" A slow smile spread across the Jedi's face, and Kenobi laughed. "You're clever, then. Tell me, do you fight in Form Six? Niman, the Way of the Rancor." He grinned. "I didn't care much for it before, but after the acquisition of my pets, I've come to appreciate it." He lunged at her quickly, the green saber swiftly deflecting the barrage of strikes as she retreated. Kenobi pressed in, preventing her retreat when she found herself backed up against one of the jagged, volcanic rocks sticking out of the ground., the blades hissing as they locked.
"You know who was very good at Niman combat?" he purred, leaning in close to the woman. "Your sister..." The woman tensed, her eyes wide and her breathing stilled. Kenobi grinned. "Oh, right! You Jedi don't know what happened. I was there when she died, as you know. Obviously, I didn't die myself." Kenobi reached out with the Force, but found her both unreadable and impervious to Force suggestion, which he suspected. The woman was remarkably skilled in empathy, which made her both unusually perceptive and unusually difficult to torture or influence. But he could do it. He just needed time and the right moment, both of which the Force would give to him.
"I was...pleased to serve beside Sar Labooda in her final fight. I remember her being quite magnificent." Kenobi smiled. "Would you like to know what happened?"
"No!" She grit her teeth and slipped out from under the blade, easily catching and deflecting the volley of swift, precise attacks from the deadly red blade, but she stopped when she heard a blaster discharge behind her. The Sith drew his blade up, holding it vertically before him as if he were waiting for something. Depa chanced a quick look over her shoulder to see two of her remaining clones laying dead on the ground, the others still holding their weapons at each other's heads.
"Oh no, I knew this would happen," Kenobi drawled, his blade dropping to burn into the ground near his feet. "So many accidents..."
"...what have you done..."
"Oh, you Jedi are so suspicious. All I wanted to do was talk about your sister! You must miss her."
"She is one with the Force," Depa growled between clenched teeth, slipping out of her defensive posture and attacking the Sith, Kenobi sliding into Soresu with a pleased smile on his lips.
"You can say yes, my dear. I know it hurts. And she fought so well." Depa struck high and swiftly brought the blade down low, and Kenobi slid his blade over hers, sliding it up to the hilt and locking them together once again. "Until Dooku took her arm." He smiled when the dark eyes went wide. "I did admire her strength, she didn't fall until he stabbed her through the leg. And oh, the arm was bad. Severed right at the shoulder." Obi-Wan lunged back and swiftly brought the blade up, the tip of his saber neatly slicing up her right shoulder where her arm attached, not deep enough to cut through or disable the arm, but deep enough to send pain through the Jedi. Depa stumbled backwards when the red saber pierced into her leg, and to her credit, she did not fall or drop the saber. She just glared at the Sith, teeth clenched together, her hand holding the cut robes and the burning flesh of her shoulder.
"Just like so," Obi-Wan drawled, his blade coming to rest defensively behind his shoulder when he felt the Force swell in the Jedi, and the woman threw herself at him again. She was more ferocious this time, more in tune with the Force, existing in the moment and moving as if she hadn't just been injured. She trembled when another shot rang out, two more clones dropping dead, and that moment was enough. Kenobi grabbed her wrist tightly, extending her arm above her head, and the Jedi grabbed his wrist as well, keeping the blazing red blade from her. She focused on his face, those gold eyes patient, and she shook.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" was his innocent reply.
"You're killing my men!"
"Am not. I just want to talk. If you'd let me, maybe your clones would be able to hold their resolve to not let their fingers slip..." The woman fell silent, dark eyes looking to her men. "I engaged Dooku after that, and to keep your sister from rejoining the fight, he stabbed her right, here." The red lightsaber pierced her other leg, and the woman cried out in pain, stumbling back as Kenobi released her, but still she stood. "Alright, see, this is why you're on the Council. I'm impressed."
The comlink on the woman's wrist beeped, and both pairs of eyes drifted to it. She answered it, heard Mace's voice for a moment, and then the com fell silent, sparking as it shattered under the pressure of the Sith's grip through the Force. For the first time in their time together, the carefree smirk faded from Kenobi's face, replaced by a displeased scowl.
"If Mace is alive, than Grievous has failed," he muttered, the golden eyes flashing dangerously. "If my friend is dead, I'm not going to be happy."
She shrugged. "I will be."
The smirk returned to the Sith's face. "I knew I liked you." This time, Kenobi attacked, more aggressive than before, and far faster, but Depa kept pace, deftly blocking the quick, graceful strikes that reminded the Jedi of the elegant style of Count Dooku. Again, the blades locked, and this time, the glowing gold eyes burned with malicious amusement, the carefree ease gone. "I fell after that. Dooku easily bested me, of course, and it was so easy to give in to the Dark Side when my Master offered me a place at his side." He shrugged, pressing the blades closer, and Depa struggled to keep her own saber away from her face. "But Sar Labooda wasn't finished. She tried to kill me for betraying the Jedi, and she would have succeeded if Dooku hadn't defended me and pushed her back."
"I know how this story ends, and I don't need to hear it." She slipped under the blades, only to find herself on the receiving end of a ferocious assault. The blades locked again after more blasters discharged, more clones falling dead. "Dooku killed her."
Kenobi laughed, leaning in toward her and softly whispered in her ear, "I killed her, Depa." He pulled away, grinning when he saw the Jedi's face twitch with emotion she was attempting to repress. The cracks in her ironclad walls were beginning to show. "It was easy," he purred. "She was badly injured and exhausted. It was hardly a fight." He slid the blade along her side, the Jedi crying out as her robes burned with her skin. "But I did cut her here," he drawled, swiftly lowering the setting on the saber and slicing in an upward arch as she brought the blade around, the red saber connecting with both her wrists, passing through them but leaving painful burns that seemed to sear down to her bone.
Master Billaba shivered and dropped to her knees, dropping her lightsaber, and Kenobi pulled it to his open hand before it hit the ground. She tried to rise, but she could not. Breathing deep, she closed her eyes and focused, hardly moving at all when she felt the heat of the red blade burning her neck as he held the tip of the weapon at the pit of her throat.
"I cut her other hand off," he whispered, not unkindly, "and she gave up after that. Not like you. You're strong." Kenobi scoffed. "You should be thanking me for killing her, a weak Jedi is hardly worth keeping."
Her eyes flew open and the red blade pressed forward, the lower setting making her lungs burn with agony as the saber pressed into her throat, but it did not stop the Jedi. She could barely feel it. Her hand extended, she tore her lightsaber out of Kenobi's grip, the blade humming to life as the Sith quickly withdrew, concern on his face for a moment while he got his footing and retreated under the ferocious assault of the Jedi. Kenobi calmed himself, sealing off all his feelings behind his thick mental walls, and he smirked as Depa Billaba slipped into her natural Vaapad, the Dark Side swirling around her, but where she would normally be cold and impervious to the effects of the Dark Side, this time, she was emotional and raw. He had a way in.
Centering himself in the Force, Kenobi kept up his defense, the swift, gentle moves coming to him easily as he looked for an opening, and after a flurry of wild, random strikes and blows, the green saber leaving a trail of light in the air, Kenobi found a mistake, a slight misstep because of the injury to her leg. He reached out with the Force, grabbing at her mind, and with the Dark Side flowing around her, he slipped easily within her walls, grasping her mind in the shadows of the Force and sending agony through her. The Jedi dropped to he knees, her lightsaber forgotten as she grasped her head and howled with pain. Kenobi deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it onto his belt. The fight was over.
"I know it hurts..." he purred, circling around her. "But if you give in, the pain will stop." The Jedi did not give in. She resisted with all her might, her unique ability to resist torture like this failing her when she needed it most. She had failed, and she had done it to herself. She had been warned, and for only a moment, her control had slipped, but it was all the Sith had needed to enter her mind.
Sighing when he felt the woman attempt to strengthen her defenses, Obi-Wan bore the full weight of the Dark Side down upon her, forcing her to the ground and her precious walls shattering. Depa's body went still, and Kenobi sauntered to her, turning the woman over with his foot. She was alive, her eyes unfocused, the dark brown seeming lighter as the Dark Side ran rampant through her. Kenobi grinned. He could force them to take it, if need be, and eventually, they would have no choice but to choose it for themselves. He felt her walls, broken beyond repair, her consciousness seeming to withdraw within herself to a place that even Obi-Wan, with all his strength, couldn't touch. It was of no consequence. This Jedi was done.
Kenobi sensed him before he saw him, and he held his breath, pushing his anger down and commanding the Dark Side to heed him and lay low. He turned to face Mace Windu just as the Jedi ran out of the jungle, adjusting his saber to a setting just below deadly full power. He'd break this Jedi before he slaughtered him. He had a point to make.
Mace's eyes narrowed. "Back away from her, Obi-Wan!"
"Why? It's over for her now, she can't recover from this."
Mace glared, reaching out with the Force and sensed Depa, her life still burning in the Force, but it was...hollow. He felt anger rush within himself as he looked at the carefree, easy smirk on the Sith Lord's face. "You'll pay for what you've done here."
"Oh, that's cute," he drawled, the smirk on his lips growing to a wide grin, carelessly waving his hand in the air and blasters discharged in rapid succession, the remainder of Depa's clones executing each other and falling lifeless to the ground. "Tell you what. I'll take whatever payback you deem fit for...virtually nothing, and you take my vengeance for what you have done to me."
"I've done nothing to you!" Mace snarled, igniting his purple saber. "You're finished, Kenobi."
"For Jedi, you lot sure are quick to draw your weapons..." His red blade hissed to life, the Sith Lord sighing as it did so. "You sent me to die against Dooku, Mace. Your final lesson to me was to kill my enemy as he ran me through."
"It wasn't like that, Obi-Wan."
"It absolutely was." He smirked. "But you don't want to talk. Come on, do your worst. You've always been better than me. This should be easy." Mace couldn't agree more, and he threw himself against the Sith Lord, the purple blade moving in swift, furious, random slashes and stabs, the arching trail of the plasma seeming to make a barrier around him, but the Sith Lord easily parried each blow with the small, precise movements of his perfect defense. Mace's eyes narrowed, feeling the Dark Side gather around him, but never touching him, his eyes narrowed in focus at his opponent as he reached out to touch the Sith with the Force to feed on his anger and rage, the fire that fueled Vaapad.
Something was wrong. Mace fought ferociously, keeping on the Sith as he retreated backwards, to the side, never leaving his defensive posture and yellow eyes impassively observing the Jedi's movements, but while a fight against a foe would usually fuel Mace's powers and stamina, he found himself growing fatigued. He reached out again to the Sith's feelings, taking in all the hate and rage he could to restore his own depleting reserves, but he found that particular well empty. Windu looked at Obi-Wan, really looked at him, and found not the rage of the Sith, but a Jedi's cold detachment. There was no Dark Side within him, at least none that Mace could see or feel, so there was nothing to use. Vaapad was a highly aggressive style that quickly drained the practitioner, but compensated by feeding off the Dark Side feelings of the opponent. Now, there was no Dark Side to feed off of, and the Jedi Master was left exhausted.
Kenobi chuckled, glowing eyes meeting Mace's, and the Jedi could feel the Sith's presence reach out to gauge his feelings. "You don't get to decide when you engage a stronger foe, Windu," Obi-Wan purred sweetly, and the Master felt his chest tighten. Those exact words had been said by him once, long ago, before he had sent Kenobi off to engage Dooku. It would be the last time the Jedi ever saw their brother before he fell. Obi-Wan had held on to that painful lesson for all these years. Windu's eyes narrowed as he re-centered his focus. There was darkness in this Sith, bitter resentment and anger that fueled him, and he would find it. With a snarl, tapping into the reserves of the Force, Mace renewed his attack.
The furious assault was over quickly, though, when the Jedi's purple blae descended, and instead of retreating as he had been doing, Kenobi cut forward, effortlessly slipping under the blade and bringing the red weapon over his head, slicing up and through Mace's upper arms, and the Jedi gasped, eyes wide as his arms trembled and convulsed, the saber dropping from his hands and into Obi-Wan's waiting palm. Master Windu's heart was pounding in his chest, looking at the Sith Lord in disbelief. He was severely burned, his nerves screaming in agony, but his arms were still attached.
With a cocky smirk, Kenobi tossed the lightsaber back at the Jedi, catching it in a shaking hand and relighting the blade. "You're dead," Obi-Wan purred, sinister amusement in those golden eyes, and Windu tapped into that, the Sith's malicious satisfaction allowing the Jedi to banish his pain, the overwhelming fatigue losing its edge as he launched himself again at Obi-Wan. The Sith quickly slid back into his previous aloof state, and Windu found himself faltering again. This wasn't working. This Sith Lord fought with none of the rage, none of the anger, none of the passion that the Sith were so famous for. Instead, Obi-Wan came to this fight with the tempered focus of a Jedi Master, and Windu couldn't help but think that if things had been different, if Kenobi hadn't turned his back on the Jedi, he could have been one of the greatest Masters the Order had ever produced. Snarling in frustration, Mace backed off, the Dark Side aura around him fading as he slipped out of the mental state that made the use of Vaapad so dangerous. Finding his center in the Force, Windu fell back on the aggressive Ataru, the Sith's gold eyes gleaming as he did so.
Finding new energy in the Force, Mace pressed another vicious assault, moving swiftly as blades sparked and collided, the Sith grinning all the while. He was enjoying this. Mace was tempted for a moment to return to Vaapad, but knew this to be a trick, and he wouldn't fall into the same trap twice. He was fatigued. The fight with Grievous had left him drained, and the first bout with Kenobi expended what energy he had left, with no way to replenish it. He couldn't feed off the impassive Sith, and the very Force around them was dark and twisted, and taking that within him could very well allow Kenobi access to his mind. His thoughts wandered to his fallen student, laying comatose on the ground not too far away, and the momentary slip in his focus was enough for the red blade to find its way deep into his leg, the Jedi yelping in pain as the Sith gracefully sidestepped the Master's stumble and, with practiced precision, drove the crimson lightsaber between the Jedi's ribs and up into his lungs.
The pain was unfathomable. Searing hot air filled his lungs, as if a star had suddenly burst into existence within him. The blade slid out of him, but the pain remained, the Jedi standing on shaking legs and clutching his weapon tightly. The Sith's eyes were glowing with delight.
"Dead..." Kenobi purred, adjusting the setting and the low humming of the blade increased in pitch as the blade became deadly, the weapon spinning around his hand when he had finished with his adjustments. Mace swallowed hard, trying to center himself again, but the intense pain was disrupting his connection to the Force, leaving him off-balance. This was not a fight he could win. He looked back to his former student, the woman broken beyond all repair, and he closed his eyes, and settled on what must be done. There would be no victory here.
"You could have killed me twice now," Mace growled, his brow dripping with sweat and his dark eyes carefully watching the gracefully stalking predator. He slowly backed up, placing himself between Kenobi and Depa, slowly drawing closer to the woman. "Why haven't you."
Kenobi shrugged. "Professional courtesy. You did the same for me once."
"That was a lesson."
"So is this."
Mace's dark eyes narrowed as he looked the Sith over, careful to keep his mental walls up and guarded. The man had to be in his mid thirties by now, but Obi-Wan looked exactly the same as he did when Mace saw him last. "You haven't aged a day," he said softly, and the golden eyes seemed to light with amusement.
"What can I say, the Dark Side agrees with me." The Sith held his breath when he heard carrier ships from overhead and frowned when he reached out to feel that they weren't his ships. The Jedi's clone reenforcements were on the way. "Shall we end this?" he drawled, raising his weapon again. "I'm afraid we're nearly out of time."
Kenobi smirked when the purple lightsaber was raised, the Jedi centering himself in the Force, and then he turned, using the Force to pull Depa Billaba into his arms, and Mace Windu took off running into the jungle. Obi-Wan was stunned, staring agape at the spot where the Jedi Master once stood, and then his carefully contained rage exploded, the Dark Side raging within him in a furious storm that tore nearby trees from the ground. Aided by the wrath of the Dark Side, Kenobi took off into the jungle after the Jedi, his glowing eyes wild and wrathful, the Force guiding him after the cowardly Jedi Master.
Of all Jedi to run from a fight, Mace Windu was the last one he'd expect to do so, but here it was, the finest duelist in the entire Jedi Order, fleeing from battle with the Jedi's ancient enemy. It was insulting. He felt Windu in the Force running at top speeds a good ways in front of him, and Kenobi snarled, tapping into the font of the Dark Side and increasing his own considerable speed. He exhaled, a high-pitched, sharp whistle that carried the Force echoing through the air, and a loud, ferocious roar was his response. His rancor had been called, and it was coming toward its Master. Kenobi sent the command to intercept the Jedi, and he felt the rancor shudder in compliance, charging in to the jungle to cut off the Master's retreat.
When Kenobi had finally caught up with Windu, the Jedi had cleared the jungle and was running through the bloody valley where the rancors were tearing into the clone reenforcements, the massive Yoda destroying carrier ships in an attempt to crush the evasive Jedi. Growling, Obi-Wan jumped down into the valley, deflecting blaster bolts as he fell back at those who shot at him. He climbed up on to one of the smaller rancors as the creature raged, deftly jumped to the head of the other one, and used the Force to assume control of the beast. The Sith directed the creature toward Windu, the rancor galloping through the field and crushing clones as he went. When he was close enough, Obi-Wan jumped on to Yoda's back, the massive bull rancor roaring when he felt his Master's presence.
Windu had made it to one of the transports and had thrown his former student inside. He immediately began calling for the clones to fall back and retreat, sensing danger through the thick haze of the Dark Side just in time to step out of the way of Kenobi as he dropped from th head of his rancor, the furious beast batting at the clones as they swarmed around him. Windu had narrowly avoided the fatal, cleaving strike of the red lightsaber, but he didn't avoid the blade.
As Kenobi dropped to the ground, the vicious red weapon dug into Mace's shoulder and ran down the length of his back. The Jedi felt muscle burn as it split apart, not cauterizing fast enough to keep blood from flowing freely. The pain didn't last long as Mace's vision began to blur and quickly went dark.
Obi-Wan cut through a clone that stepped between him and the falling Jedi, and then he had to cut through another and another as a seemingly endless sea of clones surrounded him, all of them opening fire to distract the Sith as others dragged their unconscious General to the transport. He was getting away. With a vicious snarl, Kenobi tapped into the Dark Side and pushed outwards, the clones thrown back as if they were leaves in a powerful wind, leaving them easy targets for the three rampaging rancors. The transports began taking off, and Kenobi ordered the rancors to bring the ships down, but several managed to get off the ground and out of their range, including the one holding the severely wounded Jedi.
He focused and jumped up on to Yoda's back, leaving the other two to finish the remaining clones, and he urged Yoda to gallop full speed through the jungle, augmenting the beast's already considerable speed with the Force through their bond. They skidded to a halt in the clearing of the Separatist camp, and the Sith leaped off the beast's head and rushed to the Umbra, grabbing Cody by the hand as he passed him and pulled him onto the ship. Within moments, the Sith Lord had powered the ship on and was speeding through the air, Cody settled and ready to man the forward cannons.
There wasn't a clone alive that could out-fly Obi-Wan, and he put those skills to the test now as he flew high into the atmosphere, Cody shooting down transports as they came into his sight and range. Reaching into the Force, the Sith Lord felt for the presence of Mace Windu and found him still alive, his transport already having joined a larger cruiser that was speeding off toward the Alliance, the Star Destroyer in bad order as flames blossomed along its spine. Kenobi smirked as he pressed forward on the acceleration, avoiding the lancing bolts of plasma torpedoes and laser fire from the Separatist ships and the Alliance, the Destroyer's cannons still clearly fully operational. Space was swarming with starfighters, and he had to carefully navigate around his own men to give Cody clear shots at the cruiser, but the Republic fighters were persistent and flew in to protect the craft. A few shots hit, rocking the ship, but otherwise glancing harmlessly off the shields, and with a growl, Kenobi activated the com, tuned to the frequency of his starfighters.
"This is Kenobi. That cruiser needs to be taken down before it get to the Star Destroyer."
"Roger that, sir," came the quick, terse response of the lead pilot, and he watched as all the ships fell back into formation and made a run at the heavily defended cruiser. The chaos formed up into order, and Kenobi shot in, green plasma lasers striking the wings of the cruiser just as the ship passed through the blue, atmospheric barrier that protected the hanger, the ship crashing inside and erupting into flames which could be seen from outside the Star Destroyer.
"Fall in behind me," Kenobi snapped over the com. "We're going to take the Alliance down, assume position for a bombing run." The starfighter pilots quickly voiced their obedience, and within seconds, the attack run began, enemy ships erupting from the ship as if they had disturbed a hive of venom-mites, the ships swarming to protect the vessel. Kenobi's forces tore through the greatly diminished enemy, the fiery explosions of destroyed ships crashing against the hull of the Star Destroyer as the ship groaned, its engines wheezing, and the high-pitched whine of a damaged hyperdrive made Kenobi call of the attack, the Umbra pulling up and leading his starfighters just out of the path of the Alliance as its engines engaged, the heavily damaged ship leaping to hyperspace.
Kenobi leaned back into his seat and just stared into space. Melted, twisted steal and dead clones and debris large and small filled the space where the Star Destroyer had been seconds ago, but he could feel the rage swelling within him. Cody sat beside him, the clone not saying a word, but Obi-Wan could feel his anger and disappointment for failing his Master.
Taking a deep breath, he opened up a channel to the Negotiator, the blue hologram of a clone displayed on the central console. "Longshot, dispatch your men planet-side to aid the troops there in withdrawing. I'll be down shortly to help bring the rancors in."
"Should we not pursue the Alliance, sir?"
"Did you get a lock on their destination?" The clone made to answer, but Obi-Wan quickly waved him off. "Never mind, it won't matter anyway. It certainly won't make it to its jump coordinates. It may not even be able to hold up in hyperspace." He groaned. "Though I suspect it will..." He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Any word from Grievous?"
"Yes, sir, he resumed control of the Malevolence not too long ago."
Kenobi smiled slightly. It was good to hear Grievous was alive. Even if he did fail him. "What are the damages?"
"We have yet to run a full assessment, sir, but all systems are functional."
Kenobi nodded. "Good work, Longshot. Tell your men I said so." The clone saluted, and the com cut, and the Sith groaned in frustration. "Cody, contact Ghost Company and command them to find and locate the Korunnai villages. We're going to round them up and take them back to Mustafar. The Jedi won't be getting anymore younglings from this planet, and I have a few...experiments I need to run." He growled. "Since I failed to bring in the Jedi, untrained Force sensitives will have to do."
Cody nodded and quickly did as he was commanded, watching the Sith closely as the man's quick breathing slowed, his features relaxed, and his anger faded. "I'm sorry we failed you, my Lord."
The Sith waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's not a failure, it's the will of the Force." Kenobi closed his yellow eyes and breathed deeply. "If you fight too hard against its will, the Force will lash back. That isn't something we want."
"As you say, my Lord."
"Windu and Billaba may yet have a roll to play in my plans. The Force would know better than I, my vision isn't perfect. For now, Cody," he drawled, affectionately patting the clone's hand, "we will be patient."