Titanomachy

by TheLandMaster

A narrow escape sees an entire fleet of the Militia Army dragged from the Frontier and into a galaxy far, far away. And it seems in the end, war awaits them no matter the destination. But the Sentinel Corps are steadfast, and Commander Elyse will make sure her people prevail. After all, they have the help of Titans... But will it be enough?

6. Chapter 6

TERAAB SECTOR, RUUSAN SYSTEM – RUUSAN 2 MOON

The open, empty space surrounding the moon of Ruusan 2 was as quiet as the vacuum of space could be. There was no traffic, no patrols, no sign of any military presence in this area.

Which of course, made it perfect for a certain salvage hauler to quickly make its way into the moon's atmosphere, calmly braving the violent winds of the gaseous satellite as it approached its intended destination: a massive Lucrehulk-class Battlesphere, hovering silently yet ominously amidst the yellow-ochre clouds that covered every inch of the skies. And aboard this salvage hauler, a very fat and very pleased Trandoshan sat in the pilot chair, his fingers drumming contently atop the blue-and-white dome of his recently "acquired" R2-series unit, while behind him, his brand-new security droids stood silently and vigilantly on each side of the door to the cockpit. As the vessel approached, a light on the console in front of the Trandoshan began blinking and beeping, prompting the lizard man to lean forward and press a button right beneath it with one of his long, almost skeletal fingers. Almost immediately, the hologram of a TX-series tactical droid sprung to life, its arms folded behind its back and its slit-like eyes staring directly ahead. "This is Gha Nachkt. I have brought the droid, and I'm ready to dock."

"Understood. Approach and dock at hangar five. The general expects you," spoke the droid curtly in a deep, unemotional tone, before promptly disappearing as the comm link shut off. In a perfect show of timing, two vulture droids appeared from the cloud cover and flanked his freighter, flying ahead just enough to make it clear their path was the only one to follow, while the battlesphere grew ever closer, blotting out the horizon in the ship's viewport.

But none of these things broke the Trandoshan's cool… Well, except one. One of those things had sent a shiver down his spine, imperceptible to any but him.

The general expects you.

And if there was one thing Gha Nachkt had wanted the literal second he had keyed the coordinates to the station, it was that General Grievous had not been home. Because he could deal with bureaucrats, droid commanders, even Neimoidians. Because with them, you could swindle a bit more money, be a bit more mouthy, maybe even get some rights of exclusive salvage.

You'd be lucky to get a spare bolt from the cyborg general. If you lived. He should know, he knew of a salvager that had tried asking for more.

Gha was flying his former ship, after all.

And so, with a low grumble, Gha stood from the pilot seat and moved towards the door out of the cockpit, stopping right between his new guard droids to poke both of them in the chest. "Go down to the storage area, make sure the Jedi left no surprises. I don't want the general to think I have a trap aboard or something." Their reply was wordless, merely a low-pitched electronic growl, before both stepped out of the cockpit and down the hall, leaving the Trandoshan alone with his ill-begotten prize. The lizard promptly turned towards the R2 unit and grinned, pulling an electro-shock prod from his pocket before waving it menacingly at the small droid. "You are gonna be my ticket to being rich, my little tin friend." And sadly, all the little droid could do in response was warble defiantly as the Trandoshan began pacing towards him, the electro-prod crackling with each press of its trigger.

But unbeknownst to Gha Nachkt, while there was nothing that R2-D2 could do to save himself, there was something that could be done by someone else aboard the ship… Or in this case, someones.

As so, as they walked in the same faked robotic gait they had practiced for so long, PHOBOS and DEIMOS gave one quick glance to one another, then as one touched a specific spot on their respective breast plates, three times, in quick succession.

When they felt the same spot vibrate twice, it was all the confirmation they needed: the trackers were working.

Golem now had their target.

-O-

"Kriff… What… Was that…"

"I'm seeing stars here… And not outside…"

"You hold your stomach for thirty seconds more, mister, I wanna beat our previous record here."

Unfortunately, the arrival of said cavalry would be far less… Dignified for some of their passengers.

It is a known fact on both the IMC and Militia forces that everyone's first jump is a wild experience. After all, it takes some time to let your brain come to term to having millions of kilometers compressed into a, in comparison, microscopic distance. This tends to severely screw with a person's spatial awareness and balance. The result is, more often than not, intense nausea and disorientation… Followed by emesis.

Or, as the rank and file knew it as, "blowing chunks". After all, it was a known hazing ritual to time how long a fresh jumper could go without puking their guts out, with the excuse being that those who held it in longer would handle battlefield conditions better.

Hence, the explanation for the current situation that was NYX kneeling next to the group of Clones on all fours, their helmets tossed aside while the simulacrum held a digital chronometer in her hand. "C'mon, fifteen seconds…" she muttered, her digital eyes shifting between the numbers counting down rapidly and the trembling soldiers. And for a moment, there was hope in her non-existent face.

Then CT-1162, or as he would come to be known from that day on, "Jet", gave up the struggle and poured what was most likely ration bars and nutri-paste all over the floor in front of him, before collapsing backwards and thankfully away from the puddle.

"DAMMIT!"

NYX's response was to throw the chronometer into the wall as hard as her artificial body could, smashing the small device into dozens of small metallic bits and electronic scraps. "Five seconds, you couldn't hold it in for five more seconds, man?!"

"Your anger is unjustified. They are but newcomers to your world, unprepared for such exotic travel methods."

"PALLAS? Shut up. Please. Thank you."

The heavy Simulacrum's response to that, thankfully, was to stand up and move towards a corner of the room, pulling a dusty med-kit from the wall and withdrawing from it both an injection pistol and several vials of a colorless liquid, which he carefully loaded into the injector. "Your combat efficiency must be at its peak for this mission. This drug will clear the symptoms from your body and mind. Do not resist."

Seeing as her squad mate seemed to have the situation well under control, NYX let out a warbled electronic sigh and walked towards the door out of the passenger bay, lightly tapping R3 atop his dome as she strode. A moment later, the astromech was silently sliding after the female Simulacrum, his head swiveling side to side as he took in the surroundings of the Corvo's hallways.

The walk in the end did not take long. After all, the Corvo was a very small ship made for small team ops. Coupled with the fact that Golem didn't require living quarters, kitchens or anything necessary for a biological being, the result was a very quick jaunt between rooms. Such was the case of NYX's jaunt, and indeed within barely a minute, the Tech Operator found herself upon the cockpit of their ship.

The sight was an… Unique one.

"Hey Soks," she called out cheerfully, giving the Togruta a pat on the shoulder as she turned her faceplate to a most memorable sight: that of a clone captain and Jedi Knight on their knees, green at the face and panting for breath as they leaned over a plastic bag each… While the Padawan stood smugly over her master, arms crossed and a wide smirk on her face, and two Simulacrums stood beside them like medical droids. "… Alright, I'm curious. How?"

"Well, when you can echolocate with your horns, you tend to train your spatial awareness a lot more," replied Ahsoka with an amused tone as she gave NYX a sideways glance. "I guess we finally found something I'm better at than you, huh master?"

"Not now… Snips… Force, what was that…" muttered Skywalker in response, just as another jolt of nausea hit him and forced his head closer to the bag once more, thankfully in a false alarm.

"That was a spatial jump, general," replied APOLLO calmly. "It is our FTL method. By compressing two points of space until the vessel occupies its desired destination, instantaneous travel is achieved… Though of course, this has adverse effects on those experiencing it for the first time." Beside him, ICARUS calmly checked over a box filled with dozens of vials inside it, his head shaking at each one. "Anything?"

"… Yeah, no, I got nothing here," replied the pilot as he closed the box and stashed it beneath the seat he had occupied not long ago. "Sorry, general, we haven't had living beings aboard our ship in a while, not the least new jumpers. There might be some left on another room…"

"Yeah, PALLAS found some on the passenger bay," replied NYX as she moved to stand next to Rex and bent down next to the clone, giving him a pat on the back. "Don't you worry, you two, we'll get you fixed up in no time! And hey, you lasted longer than the other guys! That's a victory in my—Wait a second, they lasted this long so far?"

Ahsoka stared at the… Well, faceplate with widened digital eyes that had almost snapped around towards her, an eyebrow raised in confusion, while next to her R3 warbled in confusion. "Well… Yes, they have just been on the floor. Why?"

The Simulacrum's response was to whoop victoriously as she jumped in the air, arms outstretched and ears twirling excitedly around. "YES! RECORD BROKEN! Finally I can rub it on Lena's stupid face that I beat her!"

"NYX, I welcome your enthusiasm," finally interjected APOLLO, raising a hand placatingly in the air. "But we have a mission to uphold. Please go fetch the stimulants so we can assist the general."

"… Oh… Right, right… Uhh, keep holding it in, general! I'll be right back!"

The groans that came from Anakin only made her run faster… And harder for Ahsoka to hold in her laughter.

-O-

Five minutes later…

One session of injecting and physical stabilization later, eleven of the erstwhile companions had gathered on the Corvo's hangar bay, sitting around a holo-emitter keyed to the twin's frequency, with only ICARUS remaining on the cockpit to steer the ship.

And yet still, the atmosphere could be said to not be the most… Accommodating.

Granted, their Titans had been offloaded onto the Chronos as a precaution, and their berths had been disassembled, but that only meant the bay had become even emptier space. The lights left large shadows around the walls, framing the many deactivated Spectres and Hunters resting on their recharge racks, several weapon lockers, tools and spare parts hanging from the walls. The almost ghostly humming of the reactor only served to enforce the eerie feeling all around.

Thankfully, another light source soon presented itself: the twin holograms of PHOBOS and DEIMOS' insignias, springing to life in the middle of the group. "Infiltration units reporting in, captain."/"I see your approach was uneventful."

"For a given of uneventful…" groaned Anakin in response, still kneading his brows furiously to stave away the headache. Which unfortunately for him, only served to draw snickers and a quick hi-five from Ahsoka and NYX. "Alright… Your report, twins?"

"We have docked with the Separatist station, and our new owner has gone ashore, along with the R-series unit."/"The tracker inside the droid has been activated as well, and we've mapped their pathway. Transmitting data now." A moment later, the twins' emblems shrunk in size to allow the telltale image of a Separatist core ship, with a large green arrow hovering closer to the edge, and a blue trail leading further into the sphere. Rex was the first to react to this, leaning forward with one finger hovering over the marked path as he traced it from the twins' location up to the end of it.

"Probably taking him to a data processing center…" muttered the captain as he scratched his chin in thought. "If they want to extract the intel from the droid, they'll need specific equipment. And you can bet it'll be heavily guarded."

"We also have to find a way to destroy the station, make sure the Separatists can't salvage it," added Ahsoka calmly, drawing the attention of the rest of the group. "Maybe we can use that to distract them, cause some confusion for our objective?"

"A good suggestion, commander. If the clankers think we're just here to sabotage the station itself, they might divert guards from R2's position and make it easier to move in."

"There's still one thing to worry about, however…"

Anakin's mutter had been just loud enough to draw the attention of the group, his eyes worryingly serious as he stared at the ship's hologram, until finally APOLLO broke the silence. "General Skywalker, is there anything worrying you?"

For a moment more, Anakin did not reply, but soon the Jedi straightened his posture and crossed his arms, turning his gaze to the leader Pilot with a grim look in his face. "The Trandoshan mentioned a general in his transmission… And there's only one general operating this deep in the Mid Rim…"

"You do not need to wonder much, General Skywalker. We can confirm your suspicions"./"The Separatist Supreme Commander is indeed aboard this station."

The reaction to that was near instant. All clones and both Jedi stiffened, their heads quickly turning to face the once more shifting hologram. The spherical ship vanished back into the emitter, and in its place a still image rose into view: that of a short, fat Trandoshan, an R-series droid by his side… And towering over both, a figure draped in a long white cloak, and a skull-like face glaring down at the two smaller figures with two animal-like yellow eyes.

"The general has taken the salvager with him further into the ship. It is unknown if he is with the droid."/"He also seems suspicious of us. Gal was told to keep us aboard, and two droids have been left to guard the ship, apparently personal bodyguards."

"Magna Guards, then… Just let them be. They're tough fighters, and if they go offline Grievous will know something's up. Maintain your cover and wait for our signal, if anything goes wrong we can use either the backup or the escape route."

"Of course, General."

The picture of Grievous disappeared and was replaced once more by the hologram of the core ship, this time with several rooms highlighted amidst the fully-solid orb, chief of which was a larger room near the center, which Anakin was quick to point towards. "If we want to blow up this place, the best bet would be to rig the reactor to explode. Enough explosives will make sure the engines are cut, and give us enough time to escape before it topples into the moon… But we'll need to distract Grievous."

"And that's a suicide mission," added Rex grimly. "Besides, the head clanker will never go after small fries. He always wants the biggest prizes first…"

"So we give him such a prize."

APOLLO's voice remained as calm as ever, even as the attention was drawn fully to him. Undaunted, the Simulacrum stepped forward and began touching the hologram, marking down several different locations and routes. "If Grievous will seek worthy opponents, then our distraction team must contain enough bait. This will free up the rescue team, possibly redirect guards from the R-series droid's location, and divert attention from PHOBOS and DEIMOS. We can also use this opportunity to possibly steal intel and bring it back to the Republic." As he spoke, his finger flew across the hologram, marking routes, objectives and extraction points, before finally his lenses settled onto Anakin once more. "With that in mind… General, may I nominate our teams?"

Skywalker's response… Was to blink once, giving the Simulacrum a surprised stare, before a chuckle escaped his lips and he crossed his arms. "By all means, captain. Let's see you at work."

"Thank you, general. Here are my suggestions…"

-O-

If one were to peer into the outside of SkyTop Station, they would see nothing but rolling thunderclouds pushed forward by blindingly fast winds. But if one were to turn all the sensors aboard the orb, strained their eyes and paid close attention to one specific point, they might catch the faintest glimpse of… Nothing.

Then again, when you build a stealth dropship, the whole point of it is to not be seen.

And so it was that the Corvo flew silently and calmly towards the Separatist base, with not even a shimmer to give away the craft's position. Like a ghost, the dropship carefully hovered closer to the Separatist outpost until it finally reached the dirty white shell of the orb and faced towards it, allowing two docking arms to unfold from underneath it and clasp into the metal walls with their magnetic clamps. Seconds later, a metal box lowered from the Corvo's hull, and extended a tube until it came into contact with the wall, allowing the many laser cutters built onto it to carefully cut a hole into the metal until a wide circle fell onto the floor of the thankfully empty hallway, allowing a sizeable force to climb out and aboard SkyTop.

First came the four clone troopers, wielding DC-15s blaster carbine or DC-15 blaster rifles, and led by Rex with his twin DC-17 hand blasters already unholstered and at the ready. Behind them, three black-colored Spectres with red eye lights and carrying rectangular objects on their backs advanced forward and swept the perimeter as they warbled electronically to one another, two of them armed with Volt SMGs and the third carrying a Hemlok BF-R. Behind them all, Anakin, Ahsoka and R3 carefully stepped out of the tube, moving to stand right in the middle of their perimeter.

Finally, Golem Squadron disembarked, their own weapons at the ready as well. There was NYX with her twin Mozambiques already in hand and Masterwork G2A5 strapped to her back. Right behind her, PALLAS hefted his custom machinegun, Whirlwind's Howl, while his EPG-1 and personal revolver, Hammerfall, were safely holstered onto his body, and a bag of explosives slung over his shoulder. And to close out the group was APOLLO, carrying a customized lever-action shotgun in his hands, while his two old and reliable companions, his golden revolver and custom VK-47 Flatline, remained on stand-by.

After a few brief moments with no signs of guards, the group relaxed their stance, with all soldiers lowering their weapons after one last sweep. "All clear. No hostiles, general," spoke up PALLAS as he turned back towards the hole and in one smooth move raised the cut section of the wall back onto it, neatly sliding the circle into it.

"I'll move the Corvo into position and await the signal, sir" said ICARUS through their radio just as a soft metal click sounded from their insertion point. "Just ring the bell and I'll get you guys out no problem."

"Alright. We'll get to the plan then," replied Anakin as he turned to his troops. "Rex, take your men and the robots, head to the reactor and get those explosives ready to go. Snips, NYX, Stubbie, find R2 and keep him safe. But wait for our signal first."

"Yes, master."

"PHOBOS and DEIMOS are on stand-by aboard the salvager's ship. They'll assist with our extraction once our missions are complete," added APOLLO as he motioned PALLAS forward, the heavy Simulacrum in return unslinging his bag of explosives and tossing them to Denal, who caught it with a muffled "oof" in response. "They may be able to provide backup before that, but don't consider it too likely."

"Good luck everyone, and may the Force be with you all."

"PALLAS, let's move."

"At once, sir."

And without further words, the groups split up: a Jedi Knight and two Simulacrum running further into the ship. A Padawan, a Simulacrum and a R-series droid disappearing into one pathway away from their entry point.

And left behind, five clones and three Spectres, the former eyeing the latter with more than a hint of nervousness. "You know sir, this feels… Kinda wrong," finally piped up Jet as he shuffled nervously next to the Spectre beside him. Said nervousness ramped up a notch when the robot turned towards him and let out a low, electronic growl, before the three turned to Rex and gave the captain a quick salute. "… See what I mean?"

"Well, we'll just have to put up with it for now, brother," replied Rex, the mirth obvious in his voice as he gave Jet a pat in the shoulder. "For now, we got other clankers to worry about. Let's get to it, troopers."

"Sir, yes sir!"

-O-

Not a few moments later, Anakin, APOLLO and PALLAS were standing outside a non-descript room, a Pulse Blade buried in the wall near them and indicating that several B1s were standing in various points inside, some with blasters in hand while others operated whatever instruments this room contained, while another blockier model stood at the front, further away from the door than all the others.

"We're ready, general, just give us your orders," said APOLLO as he readied his lever-action, and PALLAS secured the ammo box of his EPG-1. Anakin's reply was to smile and nod, his lightsaber already in hand and ready to be used.

"Then let's make a lot of noise, gentlemen."

And with a wave of his hand, the doors opened, drawing the attention of every single droid inside the room… And who all echoed the same words.

"UH-OH."

"Hello there."

As Anakin's lightsaber came to life and he dashed to the left side of the room, APOLLO aimed his shotgun dead center at a cluster of droids, and PALLAS pointed his grenade launcher at the opposite side, all executed simultaneously, as if the three had done these actions hundreds of times before. In those scant seconds, an azure blade, custom HE rifle rounds and an ultra-compact orb of super-heated plasma flew towards the gathered machines.

They never had a chance.

The lightsaber's blade performed true to its reputation and carved swathes through the B1s' fragile bodies, at the same time deflecting any blaster bolt that strayed too close to Anakin's body. The droids in the middle were almost swept from their feet by the explosion of the quasi-grenade rifle rounds, the sheer kinetic energy ripping and tearing the plating apart and spraying oil into the floor and panels behind them. Finally, the EPG round flew right between the operator droids and impacted upon the instrumentation behind them. Almost a nanosecond later, the orb's surface tension was broken, allowing the super-heated plasma inside to explode outwards, flash-frying and melting anything in its blast radius. The resulting shockwave and effect stopped any meaningful retaliation, though a few stray blaster bolts did manage to be fired in PALLAS' direction, only for them to glance off the Simulacrum's heavy plating.

In scant seconds, the room had been reduced into a disheveled chaos of molten metal, disassembled droids, shell casings and ruined electronics. The only machine left standing had been the tactical droid, still standing at the foremost end of the room, hands in the air and gaze fixed straight at the Jedi who slowly began to approach it, until suddenly it took a step back and pressed a button on one of the few consoles still intact. What followed was the unmistakable sound of an alarm siren began blaring inside the room and from the corridors, while the tactical droid did nothing but laugh in its monotone voice. "HAHA-HA-HAHA. FOOLISH JEDI, YOUR ATTACK IS USELESS. THE GENERAL WILL PUT AN END TO YOUR PATHETIC—"

Thankfully, whatever other words the TX-series had say were ended when slash separated its head from its shoulders and sent the droid onto the floor. The deed done, Anakin turned back to APOLLO and PALLAS, who still stood near the door, but now had their weapons aimed down the hallway. "Well, guess we now have their attention," quipped the Jedi Knight as the two Simulacrums left their post and walked towards him.

"Agreed, general," responded the Golem leader as he swapped his lever-action for his assault rifle rifle. "The question is, will the enemy leader take the bait?"

"Trust me, APOLLO, Grievous will come… I'll be making sure of it." And with that, Anakin stepped back to the console, looking it over until he found the controls for the internal comms…

-O-

R2-D2 had gone through things no astromech droid should have ever survived. He had repaired the shield emitter of Queen Amidala's ship while anti-ship cannon fire roared around him, flown to the heart of a Lucrehulk-class warship alongside a then-inexperienced boy who had the bad luck of having his hiding spot fighter's auto-pilot trigger, infiltrated a Geonosian droid factory and even lived through the many battles that Anakin Skywalker had participated throughout the war so far.

But now, as his detached optics faintly registered the several pieces of his disassembled chassis, R2 found himself truly feeling fear. But not of the fat Trandoshan that even now poked at his hardware and software, trying to sift through the data stored in his internal memory. Neither was it of the several Aqualish sitting at their stations he had passed by, and had shouted so many obscenities at him. And not even of the two IG-100 MagnaGuards standing guard at the door to the droid disassembling station.

No, R2's fear was directed fully and completely at the tall, menacing figure clad in white who stood just off to the side, whose head had just moments ago turned towards the exit of the room ever since the alarm had been triggered.

"An alarm? What's going on?" asked the Trandoshan fearfully, the tools he had been using so far to take apart R2's body distancing themselves as the lizardman stepped back fearfully. His movement quickly stopped when the tall figure's head snapped around to face him, vivid yellow eyes seeming to bore a hole through his soul.

"Ahem… Testing, testing, 1-2-3?"

Any further action was stopped, however, when a voice blared from the station's comm systems. A voice that R2 recognized instantly, even with his audio receptors barely online.

And at that moment, the astromech droid didn't know if he should cheer, or panic horribly at the fact his pilot was aboard the same station as the monster standing three feet away from him.

"Alright, guess this is working properly," continued the voice, its tone filled with mirth as it echoed throughout the metal hallways. "Hello, Separatists and droids, this is Anakin Skywalker speaking. I am here to announce that this station is scheduled for demolition due to unlawful occupation of Republic space. And if you have any thoughts to share about this… Well, I advise you come to me personally for complaints." And with those parting words, the line went dead, leaving only the shocking silence in its place.

And even that was short lived before the sound of stomping metal claws filled with the air, trailing behind the cloaked figure that had almost dashed out of the room until it finally vanished in the distance.

-O-

NYX sometimes found herself thinking how same-y infiltrating top secret enemy facilities ended up being. Turns out it always came down to the usual steps: be quiet, move quick, watch out for alarms and slice the throat of any guard you found you couldn't avoid. Then you broke into the vault, data core, secret sex dungeon or whatever the mission objective was, and finally either sneaked out again or blasted your way through anyone stupid enough to try and stop you. Quick, simple, easy to remember.

But this… This was easy. Too easy. Honestly kind of boring, all things considered. Even after the alarm was triggered, the guard patrols were far and few between, and these droids just mindlessly marched through their routes without checking any rooms. Hell, there weren't even special security measures! No motion sensors, no pressure plates, not even a good-old claymore hiding above the door! Complete and utter garbage…

Sure, she had Ahsoka and the little disco tin can to keep her company, but the process was still the same, just like every time. Still, NYX couldn't complain about her newest partner's competence. The Padawan was nimble on her feet, moving both quick and silent across the hallways, never staying in the open longer than needed and keeping close to nooks and crannies to hide her form.

As for R3… Well, at least he was careful enough to dash into halfway decent hiding spots whenever the droids came stomping. So, small steps and all that.

"Well, your master sure knows how to make a scene, Snips," quipped the Pilot as she peered over yet another corner, Mozambiques still in hand and at the ready. "If that general of theirs doesn't take the bait, I don't know what else he could say." Once she made sure the path was clear (again), NYX gave her two companions the signal and went on the move again.

"He'll bite, I'm sure of it," replied Ahsoka, the girl giving NYX a sidelong glance as she peered over her shoulder for any unexpected surprises... Only to discover that their droid companion was not behind them. That revelation made the Padawan stop dead on her tracks, followed shortly by the Pilot leading ahead. "Goldie? Where are you?"

"The fuck? Where did he go?"

The two girls quickly backtracked their path a few steps, their weapons raised and poised for quick use, when suddenly a sound started echoing across the halls. Metal on metal, very heavy and fast… And getting closer.

Faster than Ahsoka could ever have expected her to move, NYX wrapped one arm around the Togruta's midriff and clamped a hand over her mouth before leaping back with her back against the wall and cloak emitters turned to max power and outwards. The result was both Ahsoka and NYX disappearing into thin air, hiding the two girls from any who did not physically reach towards them.

Which, to Ahsoka's eternal relief, was not something that the new arrival did. Because she knew, from the bottom of her heart, that if General Grievous had seen them there… She wouldn't have had time to breathe before the cyborg had put her down.

But he did not. Instead, the cyborg ran past them like a whirlwind, barely sparing a glance to his surroundings in his warpath towards the great prize that awaited him on the other side of the station, leaving behind a Togruta Padawan with her heart hammering inside her chest, and a Simulacrum Pilot running dozens of scenarios of how she could possibly survive against an opponent like that.

A minute passed after the massive cyborg general passed them by, but to the two, it was as if ten hours had dragged on. But when the sounds of Grievous' steps finally vanished in the distance, NYX finally let her cloak drop and her grasp on Ahsoka to loosen, allowing the young Jedi to step forward and peer at the direction their possible executioner had gone towards. "Well… Guess we know where he's going…" muttered the Togruta as she slowly holstered her lightsaber.

"You know, I don't have a physical heart anymore… But I'm pretty sure I got phantom pains of it just now," replied the Simulacrum as her head turned towards the corridor Grievous had just come from. "And we know where to find R2."

"But first we gotta find R3. He can't have gone that far…"

"Woo-beep!"

Lo and behold, said astromech swiftly appeared once more. Only instead of coming from behind them, the moving can appeared ahead of the two girls… The same direction Grievous had come from.

"Goldie!" called out Ahsoka happily as she ran up to the droid, giving him a pat on the head. The Padawan turned back to NYX with a smile and saw the Simulacrum calmly walk closer, Mozambiques already holstered and hands on her hips, before turning her head back to the astromech. "Where did you go, we got worried!"

"That we did…" spoke NYX softly, cupping her chin in thought with one hand. Finally, the Pilot shook her head and reached into one of her pouches, pulling from it a black disk with several blinking red lights around its circumference, which she promptly slapped onto the astromech's chassis. "Here ya go, little guy. Safety measure, just in case."

The robot gave out a few low warbles in response, his head swiveling from NYX to Ahsoka, before he turned around and began rolling down another path. "He's saying that's the path to R2!" called out the Padawan excitedly before taking off running after R3. The Pilot stared at her for a moment, before a garbled electronic sigh sounded from her vocal simulators, and she took off in chase.

-O-

"… No patrols in sight, sir, we're in the clear."

"Alright, move it!"

Yet another clear hallway, yet another surprisingly easy passage. Honestly, how lightly did the clankers take security?

Still, Rex wouldn't complain. That only meant that he and his brothers had an easier time sneaking around, and that meant less chances of him losing them in a firefight.

And besides, he could see the logic behind keeping a minimal crew: less droids to maintain meant less supply runs to service the station, and that meant less chances of the Republic becoming aware of its location. And if the Separatists had built a big enough stockpile of supplies when the station was first set up, then it could run independently for even longer.

The musings of the captain were cut short when suddenly, a metal hand collided with his chest. Or, more accurately, his chest collided with an outstretched metal hand blocking his path. The Spectre's limb hardly even budged with the collision, and instead let out a low electronic warble as its fellow mechs lined up beside it. Silently, Rex held up a hand as well to his men, then slowly and carefully peered over the corner.

"… Ah, kriff…"

In hindsight, he probably should have kept his mouth shut… Proof of that was the veritable mob of droids guarding the ray-shielded doors to the reactor, and not even a loose panel for cover.

As quickly as he could, Rex made a head count of droids on guard: twelve B1s, six B2s. Quite a sizable force indeed, and too spaced-out for droid poppers to hit them in one go. With that done, the captain turned back to the other clones, blaster pistols raised and ready to go. "Alright men, we got plenty of clankers up ahead. We'll throw droid poppers in a wide area then move in with blasters—"

"Uhh, sir?"

Denal's interruption had been almost a whisper, just loud enough to be heard, but it broke through Rex's thought-process like a vibro-blade through wet paper. Faster still were Rex and the others turning towards him, only to see the clone pointing to where the Spectres were.

…

Correction. Where they weren't.

Then the sound of metal being torn apart started echoing around the corner, were the droids were.

"Move, move, get in there!"

It was a testament to the grueling training that the Kaminoans had put them all through that the troopers were on the move the literal second Rex said the orders, their weapons raised and poised to fire. When they turned the corner, however, the sight that they were met with was one that the clones would remember for quite some time.

Four B1s and one B2 were already on the ground, with the beige droids torn limb from limb, and the bulkier grey droid riddled with bullet holes and one larger, fist-sized one where its face would be, while the remaining droids were wildly firing around themselves, peppering the walls, ceiling and floor with red blaster bolts.

The reason for that behavior was quickly revealed when from thin air, one of the missing Spectres materialized into view behind an unsuspecting B1 and ripped its torso clean off before throwing it at another B1, bowling over the lanky droid and making it fire its rifle at the head of one of its compatriots. Another droid found itself disarmed of both gun and limbs by the second Spectre unit, having its head batted off with said torn arm before the mech quickly disappeared again and reappeared in front of another B1 to bury a large combat blade through its chest.

The third Spectre de-cloaked behind one of the B2s and punched its hand clean through the heavy droid's torso, a grenade tightly clutched between its metal fingers. The B2 warbled and stumbled forward, wrist-mounted gun firing like mad onto the floor, then toppled onto the ground right as the third Spectre disappeared. A second later, the thermite grenade exploded in a shower of white-and-orange, flash-frying the insides of the Separatist machine and spurting thermite and molten metal around the B2.

The clones were quick to take advantage of the chaos, their own blasters joining the chaotic cacophony of weapons fire as blue bolts sliced through the air and collided with the armor of the B1s and 2s. The thinner droids crumpled in the face of the EMP-laced bolts, their limbs spasming as jolts of electricity arced through their internals, but their heavier compatriots weathered the initial fire and returned with their own, red bolts streaking furiously through the air towards the arriving clones. "Spread out and stay low!" shouted Rex over the hellish cacophony, his pistols firing as fast as their mechanism would allow them.

And once more, the Spectres decloaked, this time amidst the clones. One of them stepped forward between the two groups, the metal box on its back unfolding into two mechanical arms with glowing blue devices on their ends, which quickly erected a Hard Cover wall in front of the clones and Spectres. The B2s' response was to continue pouring more and more blaster fire upon them, even firing their wrist rockets between bursts of their repeaters, but none of those attacks fazed the particle shield.

The return fire from the Republic forces, however, was far more effective, especially with the Hard Cover amplifying the destructive potential of the blaster bolts and bullets. The resulting and veritable wall of concentrated fire slowly but surely tore apart the last remaining droids, and after scant seconds, the last B2 fell to the floor in utter shreds, leaving only the low hum of the Hard Cover and the sizzling of fried or melted electronics from the destroyed guard force.

Once the battle had died down, the Spectre projecting the Hard Cover deactivated the Boost Unit and moved forward with its two twins, carelessly stepping onto the broken metal bodies that lay in their path until they reached a dataport right beside the reactor's entrance. Rex and the clones quickly followed, forming a tight perimeter around the door as one Spectre moved towards a dataport beside the door, while the other two each moved to one side, removed the boxes from their backs and set them down onto the floor, before stepping back and letting out yet another electronic warble. In response, the boxes began unfolding, and in instants two Pilot Sentries were ready and armed, their guns slowly swiveling around searching for targets. Finally, the Spectre standing in front of the dataport placed its hand close to the plug, allowing a thin data rod to poke out of its wrist and be inserted onto the port, which quickly began spinning as the mech soldier took to hacking the access point.

Off to the side, Denal glanced at the Militia mechs and gave a scoff in response, his grip on his rifle tightening ever so slightly. "Damn, they sure build some scary clankers…"

"I don't know if we can call those clankers, Denal," replied one of the troopers, Cosmos. "Clankers normally can't go invisible or punch through metal like that… Or hack doors open like an astromech." As if on cue, the ray-shield flickered and disappeared, and the heavy metal doors slid apart with a loud groan, revealing the hallway leading to the station's reactor. With its task done, the hacking Spectre withdrew the data rod and joined its fellow mechs on the perimeter, calmly sweeping the hallways with its rifle. "… Case in point…"

"All the more reason to wrap up the job quickly, boys," replied Rex, the smile beneath his helmet almost audible in the tone of his voice. "Denal, Jet, with me. Let's place these bombs and get out of here already." Both clones nodded in response and promptly ran through the door, followed closely by Rex, who raised his communicator closer to his helmet and quickly dialed into Anakin's frequency. "General Skywalker, come in. We're about to set the explosives, what's your status?"

Only to receive nothing but static.

"… That can't be good."

-O-

Moments before Rex and his team had reached the reactor, the distraction team was working diligently on its task. Proof of that was the veritable trail of dismantled droids left on the wake of the one-man-two-Simulacrum team. Granted, the numbers were most likely from security teams being rerouted to intercept them, but they were still making good progress.

"You know, I'm glad we get to be the bait," said Anakin aloud as he returned to sender a few more blaster shots from some B1s that remained out of cover. "Now I get to work my stress off before we get R2 out of here."

"I'm afraid I don't share of the sentiment, general," replied APOLLO as he sent an explosive rifle shot from his Flatline onto the leg-waist connection of a B2 droid, dropping the machine onto the ground just as it began firing its wrist-mounted blaster and instead hitting its sibling beside it. "Mostly because we don't build up stress in these bodies anymore."

"Well, just means more for me!"

And more indeed came, with yet another group of B2s marching down the corridor. The three invaders quickly readied their weapons… And then the droids stopped, several paces away and with their arm-weapons held up, simply staring at the Jedi and Pilots.

And it only served to make the trio even more tense. APOLLO and PALLAS' heads swiveled to and fro, their cameras looking for any possible traps or ambush, while Anakin near-strangled the hilt of his lightsaber, his feet shifting into a more closed stance as the Jedi stretched his senses as far as he could. "I got a bad feeling about this…"

It was then that they heard it. Metal on metal, clanking heavily against the floor… And getting closer.

And then he appeared.

From between the two parting sides of the line of B2 droids, a massive figure strode forward. Easily taller than even PALLAS, but with a far lither frame, almost skeletal in build save for the reinforced chest cavity, now visible beneath the parted-aside cape. Clawed hands and feet, each one seeming sharp enough to tear through anything in their path. Several lightsabers hung from his waist, serving both as a warning of his strength and a grim reminder of the lives he took.

And the mask. Like a stripped-down skull, two horn-like ears hanging from each side of the head, and the piercing, almost glowing yellow eyes surrounded by raw, singed flesh.

Had they remained on their organic bodies, APOLLO and PALLAS would have felt their spines chill at the sight of the Supreme Commander of the Confederate Army staring them down like a dread, predatory bird. And yet the cyborg's eyes seemed transfixed foremost on the Jedi standing ahead of the two Simulacrums, who slowly but carefully reloaded their weapons.

"Anakin Skywalker… At last, we finally meet," spoke the cyborg in a low, calm and collected tone, before his eyes turned to the two Pilots. "And I presume you two to be the soldiers Count Dooku has warned me about. Your abilities have very much fascinated us. It will be my honor to deliver your carcasses to my master."

"General Grievous… You took quite some time to get here," replied Skywalker, a surprisingly sure smile on his face. "For a second I thought you were afraid of me."

"Do not humor yourself, Jedi," almost spat Grievous as he twisted his shoulders, allowing his cape to fall to the ground in a heap before grasping two sabers from his waist and igniting them, the azure and emerald blade springing to life with their telltale hum. "I've faced many others like you, and all of them are now dead."

"Trust me, you've never faced anyone like me."

"Then I will gladly show you, how easily you perish like all of them." And with those final words, Grievous shifted himself into a ready stance, the tips of his lightsabers pointed straight at the three intruders.

A second passed, and nothing happened.

Two seconds passed, Grievous was already in front of them, his blades halfway from hitting and bisecting APOLLO and Anakin.

Had they been normal humans, it would have been their end. But that was not the case.

With a loud whine and flash of blue, APOLLO's Jump Kit pushed him back, allowing the Simulacrum to dodge the plasma blade just as it passed the place his body once occupied. Beside him, Anakin's own lightsaber clashed with the general's green one, the man growling under the strain of holding back the blade pushed forward against him, when suddenly Grievous somersaulted to the side, dodging a hail of heavy caliber HE rounds aimed at his torso.

As PALLAS continued to fire Whirlwind's Howl at the cyborg general, Grievous ran towards and on the walls at speeds near unbelievable, his claws digging deep into the steel plating and propelling toward the heavy Simulacrum until finally Grievous threw himself forward with all the strength his mechanical legs could muster, his lightsabers lashing out in an X towards PALLAS. The Pilot, in response, lowered his machinegun and raised his left arm, allowing a small blue particle shield to spring to life and block the oncoming blades.

In another life, had he retained his organic body, then PALLAS' eyes would have widened in surprise at seeing the particle shield crack under the strain of Grievous' blow. But here, in this life, his response was to flash his three glowing eyes and spin them around in his head. A reaction that earned a rasping, amused chuckle from the cyborg.

"Fascinating indeed… You would stand and fight?"

"We have experienced death before. It did not hold us," was the Simulacrum's reply, before he pushed forward with his shield and pushed the blades back, just as the barrier finally gave way and cracked into motes of light. In one singular motion, his right arm spun 360 degrees, holstering his machinegun and drawing Hammerfall from its holster, before firing three times at Grievous, who threw his sabers up backflipped out of the way, grasping the blades with his feet and swinging them in defense. One round melted completely against the lightsaber that attempted to parry it, splashing liquid hot metal against the general's plating, while the other two glanced off his shoulder and torso plates. "If the final rest could not stop us, then neither shall you."

As Grievous returned to his feet, Anakin rushed in, his lightsaber blurring into a wall of blue as he waved and smashed it against the cyborg's swords, each clash creating a flash of light bright enough to be blinding. But the general's moves were many, varied and unpredictable. His sabers flew from hand to feet and back, each block accompanied by an attack, each parry followed by a counter, soon bringing Anakin's furious assault to a still, and with a slam of his swords, Grievous pushed the Jedi back several paces.

Before the cyborg could press the attack, suddenly two throwing stars arced around Anakin and headed towards Grievous, one to each side. Right as he made to slice them out of the air, both stars exploded into balls of electricity, sending blue lightning coursing through his body, and earning growls of pain and anger from the droid general.

As Grievous fought to regain control of his body, two grappling hooks buried themselves onto the ceiling, reeling in with them APOLLO, who vaulted over Anakin's head and fired his hand cannon at Grievous' head, a kampilan blade held tightly upon his other hand. Before the bullets could strike, however, Grievous jerked his head hard to the side, making the AP rounds graze his headplate rather than outright pierce it. Undeterred, APOLLO boosted forward and swung his kampilan towards the general, an act that was answered with twin slashes aimed at the Simulacrum's torso.

Yet before either attack could fully go through, APOLLO disappeared in a grey haze and smoke, leaving Grievous' attack to strike nothing but thin air. The faintest hint of surprise crossed his eyes, before the cyborg quickly recomposed himself, just in time to block another attack by Skywalker before quickly delivering a devastating kick to the Jedi's midriff, sending him flying into PALLAS right as the heavy Simulacrum had readied to raise his EPG-1 and bowling both over onto the ground. A moment later, Grievous threw himself into a handstand and lashed out with one leg behind him, his toe claws open… Just as APOLLO re-entered real space, only for the Pilot to be swiftly caught in the crushing grasp of the cyborg's talons.

And with all the momentum his metal body could muster, Grievous smashed the Golem captain onto the steel floor. The metal plate bent under the strain, and more than a few cracks emanated from the Simulacrum's body. Almost miraculously, his weapons remained intact and his grip on his hand cannon did not falter, but pinned under the full weight of the cyborg's body, APOLLO could do nothing against the vice grip squeezing him.

"APOLLO!" shouted Anakin near-desperately as he shot to his feet and thrust his hands forward, sending out a powerful Force Push towards Grievous. But to his mounting shock, all the cyborg did in return was tighten the grip his clawed feet had on the floor, and while his body certainly buckled under the attack, he did not bend. And with a sinister, cruel chuckle, Grievous turned to the Simulacrum pinned beneath him.

"You lose, Jedi."

And so Anakin watched, time seeming to slow to a crawl as the general crossed his arms, and lashed out towards the Pilot pinned beneath him…

Only for his claw to sink into the floor fully and the blades to slash only the metal floor, as APOLLO's body blurred and faded into a phantom before rising up and ghosting through Grievous' body back to same place the Pilot had tried to ambush him… And then even further back, his movements acting out completely in reverse, as if time had begun moving backwards to the machine soldier, until finally APOLLO once more found himself standing beside Anakin, only the damage the general had caused to him had remained through the process.

And just as before, all Grievous did in return was laugh. "What curious abilities indeed. It is no wonder Count Dooku's assassin was bested so readily."

"What, no compliments for me, general?" called out Anakin in mock hurtfulness, even as a few ragged breaths escaped his lips once or twice. "I thought you were more interested in Jedi."

That finally seemed to break through the cyborg's amusement, who shifted his stance into a far more aggressive one, his eyes burning with hatred. "Do not attempt to presume my ways, Jedi scum. You and your treacherous order will fall to my blade." He then turned his gaze towards the Pilots, and just like that the fury had disappeared, replaced instead with mild amusement and interest. "But your allies have time and again proven to be assets of interest… And I intend to take what is theirs for us."

And with that, Grievous raised his arms high… Allowing them to both split in two, with the two new extra limbs to each grasp a lightsaber from his waist and ignite them, the cyborg spinning and twirling them in a grandiose show of dexterity. "No matter how many pieces I shall leave them in."

But before any reactions could be drawn from either Anakin or Grievous, the latter found any possible pursuit momentarily halted when an EPG-1 grenade detonated scant feet ahead of him, the hot plasma and shockwave forcing the cyborg general back, while the former let out an admittedly unbecoming yelp of surprise as PALLAS bodily lifted the Jedi off his feet and carried him underarm like a log, beating a hasty retreat alongside his commanding officer.

"H-Hey, put me down!"

"Our continued survival dictates that I ignore your request."

"And we're more agile than you," added APOLLO, his voice crackling slightly as he pulled yet another two throwing stars from his pouches, keeping them held between his fingers. "We can delay him more by running away."

Anakin grimaced at those words, but any complaint he had to voice died out when he saw the cracks on APOLLO's chassis, some of them even allowing a view to the wiring and circuits inside the Simulacrum's body. "Are you gonna be alright?"

"I have no sense of pain, general, I will be fine. And this body is more resistant to damage than it'd appear."

Not sooner had APOLLO spoken those words, the sound of Grievous' thundering steps began echoing through the hallways, growing louder and closer with each second. The Pilots, in response, quickly began firing their grappling hooks ahead of themselves, reeling their bodies through the hallways and using their Jump Kits to boost around tight turns.

And yet still, it was not enough. Right as the three turned another point in the hallway and began dashing through to a door at the end, the unmistakable shape of General Grievous appeared from around the corner, already dashing towards the trio. Reacting quickly, APOLLO threw the two stars in his grasp towards the cyborg… Only for them to curve and bury themselves into the wall, one on each side.

Right as Grievous dashed between them however, their true purpose became clear: with a toneless bass, the two Gravity Stars detonated into waving purple spheres overlapping with one another, and spanning the entire width of the hallway. As soon as the cyborg ran into them, the gravity wells did their work and lifted him from the ground, and with each field pulling him to their own direction, Grievous found himself floating helplessly in mid-air, glaring defiantly at the three invaders.

"General, now!"

With a grunt of effort, Anakin willed as much of the Force as he could around him, and once more thrust it forward into a devastating Force Push, only this time, Grievous had no way of defending or anchoring himself against it. And so, like a cannonball, the Separatist general was launched backwards and into a wall, denting the metal with the impact of his body.

With their enemy once more distracted, the two Golems and Anakin rushed through the door, with Skywalker ramming his hand onto the control panel and forcing the blast doors shut before quickly slicing it apart with his lightsaber. The last thing they saw before the many metal slabs closed together was the white blur of Grievous attempting to rush them, only to collide with a sonorous gong onto the door.

The noticeable dent left on it was still a large show for concern, and extra reason for them to resume running.

Panting in exhaustion, Anakin felt the slight vibration of his communicator on his waist, which he quickly took grasp of and activated, revealing a hologram of Rex upon it.

"General Skywalker!" almost cried out the clone in relief, his posture visibly slackening of tension. "Thank the manda… We've been attempting contact for some time now, what happened?"

"Grievous happened," was the Jedi's reply, right as the distant sound of metal being sliced to pieces reached his ears, and made him, PALLAS and APOLLO quicken their pace. "We got his attention at least. What about you, Rex?"

"Bombs are set, general, ready to detonate at your command. We'll wrap up and rendezvous with you."

"Negative, Rex, stay as far away from us as possible," interjected Anakin, still facing the path ahead as he spoke. "You'll only end up as casualties to Grievous. Head towards the hangar where the Trandoshan docked his ship, link up with PHOBOS and DEIMOS and get ready to leave as soon as R2 is safe."

"What about your evacuation route, general?"

"Improvisation is one of our better talents, captain," answered APOLLO as he loaded his last shotgun rounds onto the lever-action. "We will find a way. Failing this contract is unacceptable." His head then raised itself slightly, as if the Pilot were staring at nothing, while his camera lenses flashed green. "ICARUS, give me a mapping of the station. We need a location as close to the outer walls as possible."

"You got it, captain," replied the ship pilot cheerfully. Not a moment later, data streams began flowing through APOLLO's digital mind, with dozens of possible paths and destinations offered and rejected until finally, one presented itself as acceptable.

"Coordinates received. Meet us there."

"Don't you be late, boss, meter's running!"

"NYX, ETA on target retrieval?"

-O-

"We're closing in on the data center, boss."

"Good. Once you have the asset, head to the hangar and meet up with the rest of our forces. APOLLO out."

Once the connection cut out, NYX turned back to Ahsoka and R3, gesturing towards the path ahead of them. "Just a couple of corners left before we get there, Soks. You ready for this?"

"You bet I am," replied the Togruta as she twirled her lightsaber on her grasp. "Time to get R2 back." As if responding in kind, R3 let out a few high-pitched beeps, wobbling his body side-to-side.

The Pilot nodded in response and resumed running towards the marked nav point projected to her mind. Thankfully, their pace was fast enough to reach the target before any errant patrols left could blow their whistle on the rescue operation, and finally they made it to the data center. And just like every other god-forsaken important place in this damned station, it had a heavy set of blast doors to guard it, with a convenient data port next to it… And no guards?

Seriously, what was up with security in this place?

"Alright, tin-toy, do your thing and get this thing open," said NYX to R3, who promptly rolled up to the port, plugged its data rod into it and began rotating the port. Around and around it went, its soft clicking the only sign the droid was working at all, but no matter how much R3 spun the port, the door did not move. "… Aaaaaany time now, shiny bin."

The astromech's response was to beep sadly before backing away from the port, his lenses focused solely on Ahsoka as it continued making sounds. "He says the lock's protected by security clearances, he can't get through them."

"… Alright I'm doing this myself, out of the way."

"H-Hey, wait, what are you doing?!"

To her surprise, Ahsoka found herself pushed out of the way by the female Simulacrum, who then pushed R3 out of the way as well. NYX then followed that by withdrawing a surprisingly large knife from a sheath in her hip, clicking a button on the hilt to reveal some golden circuitry… Then forcefully jammed it into the data port. Seconds later, a series of holographic disks and counters appeared over the hilt of the knife, spinning rapidly as numbers counted down at random. "There we go, I'm in."

"What… Is that?" asked the Padawan apprehensively as she stepped closer to watch.

"Data Knife, standard issue. Perfect for hacking any terminals… Also brains, but that's an extra, not a feature."

"Wha—You can't just stab things to hack them! That's not how hacking works!"

"Oh, so the magic space girl is gonna talk trash about me hacking things by stabbing them? Hi pot, have you ever met kettle?" asked NYX in an almost playful tone. Just then, the holographic circles on the knife all turned yellow and vanished back into the hilt. As soon as the Pilot pulled the knife from the hole, the doors began sliding open, revealing behind them the path to the data center. "And that's how you open a door. Come on, Snips."

With a resigned sigh, Ahsoka followed NYX into the small hallway, with R3 trailing just short of the two. A few more doors stood in their path, though thankfully none of them were locked, until finally they made it to the data center.

As expected of a place called that, the room was occupied primarily by large computer stations, each one sporting several terminals projecting holoscreens with dizzying amounts of data scrolling by, and each station faced a single chair… Except they were all empty. No one manned the stations, even as data continued pouring through, and no guards were present on any corner. But they could indeed see the door at the other end of the room… And hear a quiet, almost imperceptible frantic beeping coming from it.

"That sounds like R2!" shouted Ahsoka, her lightsaber igniting to life as she readied herself to dash towards the sound… That is, until NYX's hand clamped down on her shoulder like a vice, the Simulacrum's digital eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Hold it there, Snips… Something's fishy."

"Indeed it is."

The sound of the slimy, prideful voice was enough to make both girls spin around almost in a flash, their respective weapons pointed at the source.

Said source was Gha Nachkt, who walked in from the same pathway they had arrived from, a blaster pistol in one hand and a cock-sure grin on his face. Beside the lizard, two IG Magna Guards draped in cloaks and wielding electro-staves stood at the ready, their glassy red eyes focused solely on the two girls.

"What a pleasure it is to meet you two, ladies. I suppose you're here for my property," drawled the Trandoshan as he waved his blaster at them. "Unfortunately, the general has already offered me a hefty sum for your little droid friend, and I'm inclined to collect it in full."

"I guarantee that won't be happening, sleemo," snarled back Ahsoka, her eyes darting between the salvager and the two droids. "We're getting out of here with our droid."

"Ah, yes, your droid… Interesting little thing, that bucket of bolts. Plenty of useful intel to give to the Separatists… Plus, all the extra on your friends. Isn't that right, friend?" finished Nachkt… His eyes focused solely on R3.

Who, with a short electronic cry, promptly rolled over to stand beside the Trandoshan.

"Goldie…? What's going on?"

"You'd be surprised how easily an R-series unit can have its programming altered, especially when it's fresh out of the production line," continued the salvager, calmly tapping one claw on the astromech's dome. "When the general told me that the Separatists had managed to sneak a spy aboard Skywalker's ship… Well, I was quite surprised. But as you can see, it paid off spectacularly."

"The little shit-stain was a mole all along," snarled NYX, her metal fingers almost strangling the handle of her Mozambiques. "Figures that that was the reason he kept disappearing all the time…"

"Indeed. And while he may not have been able to access the ship of your droid friends, the visual and audio data will be more than enough." Nachkt then grasped the metal disc atop R3 and ripped it out, turning the still-blinking device around in his grasp. "Plus this little trinket… Oh, and your two other droids aboard my ship. Those will certainly fetch quite a high price with the Separatists."

"You slimy little—"

But before Ahsoka could finish her insult, the Togruta found NYX's hand hovering in front of her face, and a look confirmed that yes, the Pilot was still staring at Gha Nachkt, only now her weapons were slack and lowered.

"You know something, you massive sack of fat shit… You made a lot of mistakes ever since we found that dumpster you call your ship," droned the Simulacrum dangerously, enough that the Trandoshan took a wary step back. "You tried to hurt my new friends. You tried to sell their droid, threatened my teammates, and had the audacity of treating us like machines… Like merchandise, instead of people… But you wanna know the biggest mistake you made?"

And as she stared directly at the salvager, NYX's ears swung forward, their tip blinking red… The same as the disk in Nackht's hand.

"You made the mistake of thinking you could outsmart a Pilot."

Her ears stopped blinking.

So did the disk.

In that moment, the ultra-compact thermite charge exploded in Gha Nackht's grasp, washing him and three droids in super-heated thermite. The Trandoshan howled in pain, his blaster firing wildly into the air as he stumbled to the floor agonizing. R3 fared no better, the traitorous astromech's cry distorting and wavering as the burning chemicals tore through its chassis and circuitry.

The Magna Guards, however, stood far enough from the explosive that only some thermite splashed onto them, but it was enough to force the IG droids off-balance, some of their plating burning and smoking from the thermite residue, and even their joints seeming to tremble from what little substance had fallen onto them. That was something that both Ahsoka and NYX quickly took advantage of, each one dashing towards one Magna Guard.

Ahsoka slashed and jabbed at her target, her moves unpredictable enough that the droid was hard-pressed to try and match. And yet still, the phrik-reinforced staff was there to match her blows, even if the electrified tips were unable to find purchase on her lither body. For several more blows, this exchange continued, until finally as the Magna Guard attempted to shift its stance, its ankles gave way under the thermite-induced damage, unbalancing the droid long enough for Ahsoka to bat down its guard and decapitate the IG unit, before quickly bisecting its torso with a spinning slash.

NYX, however, took a far more pragmatic approach. When the Magna Guard charged forward, the Pilot used her Jump Kit to deliver a boosted upward knee strike, knocking the staff weapon out of the droid's hands, before launching both of her grappling hooks onto its shoulders and boosting down, drawing the Magna Guard into a dual knee strike that drove them both into the floor and cracked the IG droid's chest armor. Before it had a chance to recover, NYX pointed both of her Mozambiques onto its chest and fired continuously, emptying both clips and leaving a gaping hole clean through the Guard's torso.

In the end, both duels had ended so quickly, that when Ahsoka and NYX turned towards Gha Nackht, the Trandoshan was still alive… But barely.

Half of his body still burned, small white motes shining brightly against his skin, as the salvager tried to drag himself away from the two women with his still-functioning arm…

Squelch

"Aaaaargh!"

A notion that was quickly put to rest when NYX stepped forward and stomped onto his legs, pinning the lizard beneath her foot as she calmly reloaded one of her Mozambiques.

And when Gha Nackht turned back towards her, fear was all that was left in his eyes.

"P-Please… Don't—"

"Fuck off."

"NYX, wait—!"

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG

At point-blank range, with no armor to stave off their impact, the Hammerpoint Rounds of NYX's weapon cut the Trandoshan's flesh apart like an unholy storm of metal blades. When the weapon clicked empty, what once was the salvager's head now more closely reassembled grounded beef, though mercifully cauterized enough that blood did not pool.

It did, however, splatter onto NYX's chest and head. That she barely reacted to it at all only served to unnerve Ahsoka further.

"There we go, problem solved. C'mon, let's get your droid friend."

The Padawan did not reply, even as NYX stepped past her while holstering her pistols. Instead, her gaze lingered on the Trandoshan corpse on the floor, her hands shaking as she beheld the grisly fate that had befallen the scavenger.

Ahsoka was no starry-eyed fool when it came to her duties. She knew that being a Jedi meant that more than once, she would be forced to take a life. After all, she wouldn't fight droids and machines forever. But to see it performed so coldly, so… Callously.

Just what kind of war would have made her like that? What kind of death?

"Snips? You coming?"

The Pilot's voice cut into Ahsoka's thoughts as easily as her bullets had onto Gha Nackht's body, but were enough to draw the Padawan from her concerning thoughts, and back to the matter at hand: completing their mission. In just eight steps, they stood in front of the sealed door, with only one more control panel separating them from their objective. And with a press of a button, the doors opened.

"R2!" cried out Ahsoka happily as she ran to the droid's side… Or at least, beside the disassembled pile of parts that was R2, who let out a broken, off-tune beep of relief to see her. "What did they do to you… C'mon, let's get you back to master Skywalker." With that, Ahsoka reached for a small grav-cart off to the side and began piling R2's parts inside it.

"So that's the droid of the hour…" mused the Simulacrum as she gazed at the many separate parts laying atop the work table, before focusing on the still-operational dome. "You look like garbage, little guy."

"Beep-bee-bee-boop-bee-doo-weep!"

"Damn, and can swear up a storm too… I take that back, you're cool, tin can." And as Ahsoka began putting R2 back together, NYX turned her ears upwards and began transmitting. "NYX here, we got the droid, getting ready to leave. Just gotta haul his pieces to the EVAC."

"And the scavenger?"

"Turned him into charred hamburger."

"Good. Take the droid and head to the hangar, meet up for evacuation. PHOBOS, DEIMOS, you're clear. Take control of his ship, then take off."

"Yes captain."/"Consider it done."

-O-

IG-100 Magna Guards are one of Holowan Mechanicals' most expensive products, due to the more costly materials and advanced programing on their droid brains. So when Grievous received units to become his personal bodyguards, naturally upgrades were made to the base model.

This, however, meant that their cost became even greater. As such, to spare such a valuable investment from any untoward end, a second set of IG-100 built to standard specifications was delivered to him, to be used in less-critical missions or locations.

As such, they were not as deadly as the general's personal guard, nor were they as fast to notice specific details that had changed.

Such was the case when the two IG-100s assigned to keep watch over Gha Nackht's ship passed by the spot where two white-and-red "droids" were standing, giving the two machines a cursory glance to confirm their location, before rounding around the ship once more.

Only to fail to immediately realize that the "droids" were not there.

On those split few seconds that the Magna Guards took to register the fact that their now-designated-as quarry had vanished, PHOBOS and DEIMOS had already moved to suitable positions to take them down. So, when their bodies returned to the proper dimensional alignment, the resulting shock of previously-not-there matter returning to space already occupied by another matter caused an explosive deconstruction of the bodies.

Or, in simpler terms, the IG-100 units promptly found their torsos exploded from the inside out when the twins' Phase Shift was deactivated, their arms returning to real-space through the Magna Guards' chests. Both then shoved forward hard, enough that their hands reached onto the other unit's collar, and pulled the droids together, smashing their heads together. Finally, to finish them off, the twins unsheathed their Itaks and shoved them through the IGs' heads, splitting them right down the middle and finally putting the droids down.

One hundred and eighty thousand credit investments, disposed of like normal B1s. But in credit of Holowan Mechanicals, "trans-dimensional assault tactics" was not something they could feasibly have foreseen to program onto their Magna Guards as possible strategies to be used against them.

Their deed done, the Pilot twins unholstered their Peacemakers and swept the perimeter, making sure that no more sentries had been posted, when suddenly the doors on the far side of the hangar groaned open, drawing the attention and weapons from the twins.

Thankfully, rather than a battalion of droids or a sociopathic cyborg general, what came through the door instead was Captain Rex and his team, with the clones in the lead and the Spectres trailing behind. When both groups caught sight of one another, they quickly lowered their respective weapons, with the Pilots calmly motioning the clones over. "Captain, it is good to see you unharmed."/"We take it your mission was a success."

"Heh, Seppies won't even know what hit them until they're halfway through plummeting down onto the moon," replied Rex with a snicker, making sure to show the detonator held securely in his hand.

"Good to know. Let us get aboard then."/"We certainly could use some help in understanding how to operate this craft," they replied in their usual monotone before turning to the destroyed Magna Guards on the floor. "A credit for your thought, however."/"Would you believe it safe to take those with us?"

"Huh… Well, we never really had a reason to… But if you want them, they're yours, I suppose."

Right at that moment, another door in the hangar opened, and through it came both Ahsoka and NYX, the Padawan pushing a hover-cart carrying the disassembled R2, while the Simulacrum fired her rifle at unseen droids amidst a torrent of red bolts. Right as they crossed the door's arch, NYX turned to the door's control panel and rammed her hand onto it, thankfully triggering the emergency lock, before quickly shooting out the panel on the other side right as the doors closed. With the threat gone, Ahsoka was finally allowed to slump over the cart, drawing in quick but controlled breaths. "There we go… Safe at… Last…"

"So that's where all the guards were…" muttered the Pilot as she lowered her rifle before turning to face the gathered mob of soldiers near the old hauler. "Well, guess we're all here then!... Minus our bigger guns… Oh well, time to go?"

"What are you talking about, we can't abandon the general!" called out Denal angrily, waving his arm back towards where they came from. "What about your teammates?!"

It was at that moment that NYX's ear let out a soft ring, one echoed by both PHOBOS and DEIMOS, that was quickly followed by a short radio transmission, made up of only two words.

It was from PALLAS.

Detonate. Now.

The three Pilots, as one, then turned to Rex, who even with a helmet hiding his face they could tell probably had a drop of sweat running down his head in embarrassment. Finally, with a heavy sigh, the clone withdrew the detonator from his belt, stared at it for a moment… Then pressed the button.

A second later, the entire station shuddered, as if a massive hand had just slapped it, bringing down a few Vulture Droids that had been hanging from the ceiling… One which crashed dangerously close to NYX.

"… Oh right we're still inside it, aren't we…"

The next moments were a frantic race to board the Trandoshan ship, as three Simulacrums, a Togrutan Jedi, five clones and three Spectres carried a cart loaded with the still-active pile of parts that was an R-series droid and the mangled remains of two Separatist Magna Guards onto the vessel, before finally soaring out of the hangar and onto the skies above.

-O-

Minutes before detonation, on the other side of SkyTop…

A running retreat inside enemy territory is always a gamble. Unless you have a real-time link to data such as enemy positions, arrival routes and possible escape routes, you'd be flying blind and would depend solely on luck. Your evacuation becomes a game of chance between you and the enemy forces.

A game that unfortunately, Anakin, APOLLO and PALLAS had just lost.

That was the explanation for the situation they found themselves in. Namely, with little ammunition, both sides of the hallway blocked by droidekas and B2s, and no alternative escape routes.

Or at least, none that the galactic natives would consider. Because unbeknownst to them, the group was currently standing just short of the station's outer walls. And the Corvo was on the way.

"Well gentlemen, if you have a plan, I suggest you put it to use," said Anakin with his usual calm tone, even as he tightened his guard with his lightsaber.

"It's already being readied, general," replied the Golem captain, even as he loaded the last ammo cylinder onto his hand cannon. "We just have to wait."

"Wait for what?"

CLANG

Sadly, his answer would have to wait. Because their dreaded pursuer had finally caught up to them.

"Your tenaciousness is admirable, and your resourcefulness even more so," spoke Grievous as he stalked ominously towards the trio, his four lightsabers readied to strike at a moment's notice. "It is truly a pity that you have joined with the Republic. The Confederacy would have offered you far more for your services."

"We have witnessed your actions against those you call allies," called out PALLAS, his triple eyes spinning wildly in their orb mount towards any target they could focus onto. "Betrayal so openly committed against those who do not follow your desired paths. Treachery so easily dispensed, and a clear sign of your duplicity."

Unbeknownst to all but the two Pilots, a transmission had just arrived to their internal comms. A simple text message from ICARUS, through a highly encrypted frequency.

In position, waiting for signal.

In response, APOLLO sent back a confirmation, while PALLAS sent his own transmission to their remaining teammates, telling them to detonate the explosives.

"A pity indeed," was Grievous' reply, before the cyborg readied himself for the charge. "Then your corpses shall suffice."

"Unfortunately for you, general, we have none to offer," replied APOLLO as he quietly prepared his grappling hooks. "So we'll be taking our leave now."

Moments later, the entire station shook, followed by Anakin's Force Sense screaming at him of danger as PALLAS once more wrapped him onto a bear hug.

And then their world became noise, fire and destruction.

Before Grievous or the droids could move, the wall near the three exploded with a deafening, almost apocalyptic roar, evaporating the entire group of droids that had been blocking their escape route. Said destruction continued inwards to the station, carving through wall after wall of the inner hallways, leaving massive holes and molten slag in its wake.

Massive enough that amidst the confusion, PALLAS and APOLLO boosted into the first hole, using their grappling hooks onto the walls to speed their escape along. As they passed the midway point of the tunnel, PALLAS tossed an A-Wall emitter onto the ground, creating a glowing orange barrier spanning the entire pathway.

It was the only thing that stopped the oncoming menace that was Grievous, but only barely. Just as with PALLAS' arm-shield before, the full impact of the cyborg's strength formed dozens of cracks on the hardlight barrier, forcing sparks out of the emitter. But thankfully, it held integrity just long enough to stop the general's advance, right before the carved hole began crumbling and buried the A-Wall and emitter under molten and fragmented metal, though missing Grievous by enough that the cyborg managed to dash back onto the hallway the group had stood upon just moments before.

It was that resilience that allowed APOLLO and PALLAS to survive and swing out of the hole caused by the high-output spinal mounted railgun of the Corvo, that was hovering just short of the station's outer walls with its lower ramp open and extended. And with controlled flares of their Jump Kits, the two Simulacrums landed onto the metal surface with dull thuds before quickly dashing inside, with PALLAS letting go of Anakin just as they cleared a safe distance from the edges.

And as the Corvo ascended onto orbit, joining the captured Trandoshan salvage hauler on their successful escape, Grievous stalked the hallways of SkyTop station enroute to the hangar where Soulless One awaited him, the battlesphere's paltry emergency engines attempting to keep the ship from falling towards the moon's surface, and his wrist communicator already active and keyed to the station's internal broadcast system. "All hands, abandon ship. Collect all intercepted intel and evacuate."

After all, even if he had failed to capture these so called "Pilots", he could still offer some prizes to Count Dooku.

After all, their soon-to-be-completed weapon could benefit from high-value targets. Targets that this intel would most definitely offer.

But for now, the Militia and Republic forces could celebrate. With no casualties, almost all objectives met and a proper showcase of their capabilities to one another, the mission was a resounding success.

Their first victory, of many more to come.

~O~

I'm halfway keeling-over as I wrap this up, but I did it. And at 13.5k words, it's my biggest work done for this fic and any recent ones.

Very action-y chapter, lots of fighting scenes. Hope I made them good, haven't done any in a while.

I also decided to leave reports of success to the next chapter, since it'll be all about talking, diplomacy and contracts.

That's right bitch, this is the prequel, it's POLITICS TIME! *dabs*

Plus that lets me make all the jokes I want about vaporizing R3 with thermite.

Once again, apologies for the mega delay this suffered for release. I didn't expect to take four months for another chapter, and it feels terrible when I take this long for stuff. A lot of it came from personal shit, but research for the future plus planning/arranging of the entire first season was also a big reason. I'll do my best to make updates for all stories more frequent, but… Well, pray for me.

Now, as mentioned on SpaceBattles (at least for all you folks who aren't checking this on SB), next thing to come will be the opening chapter of a smaller-ish project I got cooked up, that will serve as a "break" of sorts when next to the bigger epics that are the Yu-Gi-Oh! fic and this one: "Special Delivery to the Frontier"

Hopefully people like it as much as they liked this one.

Also, funny thing, I tried finding a possible soundtrack for this story. The result?

Megalith Agnus Dei, Alicorn, Hero of Comberth Harbor, Zero, Roundtable, RX-0, Unicorn, Mobile Suit, MAD-NUG…

Essentially, lotsa Latin and orchestral. As God intended.

As for everyone outside of SB, if you guys are interested, I tend to post some brainstorming or quick polls there regarding content to the story. If you wanna participate, head on over! I'm always open for some planning talk.

As always, reviews and critiques are welcome, and I'll see you again the next time!