Ch. VIII: The Nightmare of Milagro, Pt. 2

In the aftermath of the Battle of Ryloth, Confederate Intelligence learned that Wat Tambor, member of the Confederate High Council and Chairman of the Techno Union, had been captured by Loyalist forces. Confederate High Command was immediately thrown into a panic; Tambor held valuable information regarding troop deployments and research initiatives which could seriously damage the war effort if it were to fall into the Republic's hands.

To further complicate the situation, in a rare turn of events the news of Tambor's capture was leaked to the Parliament, whose panic (and impulsiveness) was much greater than High Command's. After immense pressure it was determined that any available forces must be scrambled immediately to launch a rescue operation. Of the fleets within operational range, only Rear Admiral Darth Vader's newly formed Task Group 'Rancor' was free from any major commitments. The risk of failure was high; eighty ships would be forced to cover an operational area fit for a fleet of hundreds, and they were yet untested as a unit. High Command attempted to object, but it was for naught when the President and High Council put their approval behind the plan. Once again, civilian interests had forced their will upon the Confederate military and put forward seemingly impossible demands for its overstretched fleet to fulfill. This time would not be the last.

Most of the engagements went smoothly; three of the four squadrons destroyed their targets and withdrew safely to Confederate lines. Vader's squadron was forced into a major engagement with substantial Loyalist forces around the planet Milagro, in what he and Confederate military leaders would later learn had been a deliberate trap to capture the rear admiral.

What follows is the conclusion of that battle, and how Darth Vader became known as one of the most legendary admirals ever produced by the Confederate Navy.

Onboard C.S.S. Ambitious, Milagro System

Something that holodramas failed to understand was that the bridge of a military ship was rarely given to shouting and yelling, unless the situation called for such a volume. Even in the tensest situations, no properly disciplined crew would raise their voices in a shout unless the sound of explosions ringing in the ship forced them too. And by that point, there were far worse things to worry about than military discipline.

That was why the announcement that Loyalist turbolasers had speared the frigate Windchaser was said in a matter-of-fact, calm tone. Even if the event filled everyone on the bridge with both worry and white-hot rage.

"Return volley," Vader said calmly, hands behind his back and eyes never leaving the tactical table. "Aim for the bastards' bridge."

The proton cannons of the Ambitious hummed as they adjusted, two of them firing upon the admiral's declared target. The shots were dead on, one of them shredding the lower levels of the Venator's bridge tower while the other obliterated the command bridge. The ship began drifting, forcing the vessels nearby to adjust course.

The Loyalists attempted to get their own shots on the flagship, but before they could the Ambitious had already moved back into the cover of the asteroid field where the Confederate squadron was hiding, meaning the only things the turbolasers hit were empty rocks.

There was a large asteroid field in the middle of the system where Vader's ships had taken refuge to avoid being outright annihilated. From there they took potshots at the Republic navy, frustrating their enemy and causing what damage they could. The fate of the Windchaser showed that the strategy was not a perfect one: she had been caught while moving out of the way of a less docile asteroid. But it didn't need to be perfect, or last forever; just long enough for the Confederates to get their operatives out and rush the jump point.

There was much that could go wrong, and quite a few Confederate sailors had silently contemplated how they might die. But they didn't break discipline or give up hope.

After all, why be scared of a fleet led by a Jedi when your admiral is a Jedi killer?

"Admiral," the tactical droid began, its eyes flashing. "Recon reports project a two point zero one five drift in the asteroid field's trajectory. I recommend the fleet enact a general course correction of one point eight degrees starboard to compensate."

"Do so," Vader replied, still not turning from the tactical table. "Have Fourth Fighter Group move on the enemy's rear. That should take the pressure off First Group so they can pull back from the dogfight and link up with Third Bomber Wing. Have Dragontooth fire burst missiles at these coordinates to cover their rear."

"Fourth Group attacking rear, First Group linking up with Third Bomber Wing, Dragontooth firing burst missiles at selected coordinates, roger," the tactical droid droned, sounding like it was reading from a grocery list. Its eyes flashed rapidly, before stopping after a second. "Orders transmitted, sir."

Vader could not see it, but he could very well determine the results from the tactical table. The first change was in the Fourth Fighter Group, which suddenly broke off from its strafing runs on the enemy Acclamators and cut through space towards the Loyalist's rear line, consisting largely of support ships and mostly undefended. They were largely unopposed due to the Confederates still having far more small craft in the void. At another point in the battle the First Fighter Group, which had been engaged in a savage dogfight with two clone squadrons and a quartet of Jedi fighters, broke off and began making their way closer towards the Confederate positions.

One of the clone squadrons and the Jedi made for the Fourth Group, just beginning its attack run. The last enemy unit went after the First Group, only speeding up when they saw that the fighters weren't retreating but congregating around a wing of Hyena bombers. Just as they began to close the distance, however, the burst missiles fired from Dragontooth reached their destination. Half a dozen cruise missiles broke apart, releasing hundreds of buzzdroids right in the path of the clone fighters, who were unable to avoid the new hazard. The fighters in the rear successfully banked away from the cloud, but those in the front and center flew headlong into it, their fighters soon being swarmed with buzzdroids. The insectile machines were grim and cruel things, programmed to take delight in the sabotage of spacecraft and the horror of the pilots. It said much about their programmers when some immediately went for the cockpits, crowing in glee as they broke the transparisteel and killed the helpless pilots with their drills and saws.

With enemy interceptors dealt with, the way was largely clear for the Third Bomber Wing, which descended like raptors on the exposed Loyalist capital ships. The group split in a starburst formation, each separate squadron then screaming down on their chosen target. AA fire lit up the space around them, and quite a few Vulture and Condor fighters sacrificed themselves to give the bombers their chance. Had the battle been in atmosphere, the raging howls and piercing wails of the droid small craft would have chilled the stoutest sailor's blood.

The squadrons released their payloads of proton torpedoes, breaking off immediately to reload and make more runs. The torpedoes of the Third Bomber Wing were as deadly as they were accurate; multiple hits were scored on each of the five ships that had been targeted. Only one, a Consular class frigate (ironically named Peacekeeper), was a mission kill, but the damage was still heavy. One Venator lost three of her turbolasers on the port side, and the other ships saw some ancillary systems fail.

Upon the completion of the run, the First Fighter Group, having savaged a corvette and supply ship but beginning to suffer heavy losses, was given the signal to withdraw. They broke off immediately, soaring high above the Loyalist lines and making a beeline for the protection of their motherships

Even with all this, the numbers were still heavily against the Confederates. Were it not for the asteroid field they hid in like an ambush predator, the battle would have been decided already.

"Excellent," Vader said to himself as he watched the drama unfold, admiring of how the droids almost instinctively behaved like pack animals. "Status of the proton cannons?"

"All cruisers report that they have cycled the heat sinks, admiral," the tactical droid reported. "Gunbays report that all cannons are ready."

Vader grinned under his mask. "Then we'll put them to good use. Same as usual, slave their targeting systems to ours and leave target selection to the recon droid. We'll fire two shots from port before rolling and releasing another two from starboard. Make sure the captains know to be quick about getting back into cover."

Again, the droid's eyes flashed. "Slave targeting systems, target selection from recon, two shot volley port followed by roll and two shot volley starboard before seeking cover, roger."

Again, something the holodramas failed to understand was that ships with military-grade gravity fields did not lurch when they suddenly changed course. This would have disrupted the work of most of the personnel, thus navy ships were equipped with gravity projectors of sufficient strength that the crew did not notice the sudden change unless they looked out a viewport or studied the tactical layout.

Thus, with little fanfare the four Providence class cruisers Ambitious, Blackstar, Hellhound, and Liberty ascended from their cover in the asteroid field and let loose their volleys. The cannons in their port gunbays thundered twice in rapid succession, before the cruisers rolled one hundred eighty degrees to starboard and fired twice more from starboard. The damage inflicted upon the enemy was substantial; the superstructures of two Acclamators began failing, and a Venator's main hangar suffered multiple explosions as fighter fuel was ignited. Another Consular cruiser was split in two, and this time one of the halves spun wildly until it collided with another Venator that was unable to evade.

The Loyalist ships were not idle through this, however. The gunners of a Venator in the forward most line wasted little time even waiting for orders to fire back, and a lucky turbolaser found the starboard gunbay of the Ambitious. Another two struck the main hangar bay of the Liberty, and only through spacing the hangar was she able to avoid the fuel stored there going off.

"Status of our starboard?" Vader asked.

"Two cannons are out of commission, admiral," an orderly called out. "Minor fires have broken out, but we have them under control."

"Ashes and dust," Vader muttered, already missing the lost firepower. It would only make things harder from here on. But he had little choice but to make do. "See that those fires are contained, and I'll have the head of the crew chief if he lets them touch the remaining cannons."

Having said that, he turned to the tactical droid. "Status of Ventress?"

"She has been unable to disengage. Like us, she faces a numerically superior foe."

"Tell her to do whatever she needs to; I can't fight the Republic like this forever," Vader said, turning back to the tactical table and brainstorming more ways to give his enemies hell. He could only hope Ventress was putting in as much effort as he was.

Onboard R.N.S. Righteous

Like Vader, Ventress was a firm believer in presetting the conditions of battle to align in one's own favor. This must be done to compensate for any of your own weaknesses. If the terrain made it easy to skulk and hide, then set an ambush. If the enemy was running low on supplies, then try to have patience and starve them out.

Suffice to say, a three-to-one duel where she was the outnumbered party was not what Ventress would consider favorable odds.

With a cry two of the Jedi charged, swinging their blades in tandem to force the Dark Sider to divide her attention. She gave several parries, before backflipping down the hallway to gain some breathing space. With a flick of her wrist several panels were wrenched from the wall before hurtling towards her enemies, though they did little good.

Acting as a single unit the three Jedi came at her all at once, the senior knight taking the middle while the other two each ran along a wall to come at her flanks. With a snarl she twirled her blades in a display to rival the finest lightshow at a Coruscanti opera, maneuvering her arms to rapidly catch any strikes the Jedi might throw at her.

She ducked under a thrust from the middle knight, sending a kick to his shins which was dodged. In an instant Ventress jumped to avoid the downward chops of the other two, spinning in midair like a horizontal top as she did so. The two hastily jumped back.

Ventress landed in a crouch, her blades held before her in a display of aggression and a mask of her own anxiety.

"Commander," the voice of Vader's tactical droid came through her comm. piece. "The admiral asks that you increase your efforts to disengage and return. Time is short."

Her eye twitched. That damned droid would not shut up.

Instead of answering verbally the Dark Jedi lunged at the middle knight, catching him by slight surprise with her aggression. She landed a solid kick on his head as she passed, throwing the Jedi to the side and dazing him. Even as one of her blades went for a kill, however, one of the man's compatriots intercepted the blow. Ventress cursed as she completed her arc and rolled to a stop some distance from her opponents. Things had been going like this for the past fifteen minutes.

"You're no Kenobi and Skywalker," she began as she stared them down. "But I must admit that you three know your stuff. I suppose you'll do for opponents."

One of the lesser knights, a female Pantoran, smirked. "We'll have to apologize to them for stealing the glory on this one. Your capture has been a long time coming Dark Sider."

Ventress scoffed. "The only glory to be had will be when I burn your lightsabers in offering to the Old Lords." All of a sudden, the lights in the hallway flickered out, even the dim reds of the emergencies fading away to pitch black. As an assassin, one of the first mystical techniques she had learned was how to call upon the Dark Side to banish the Light.

"Watch yourselves, she's about to pull something!" the senior Jedi shouted, and even if she couldn't have sensed them through the Force Ventress could see their lightsabers huddling together. The fools.

With an out of character giggle she deactivated her blades, plunging herself into darkness. But she was not afraid. For what was the Dark to one of its children if not home?

"Let's go then," her disembodied voice echoed, reverberating through the Force like a softly struck wind chime.

She charged at the three blades of azure and vermillion, prepared to do or die.

Onboard C.S.S. Ambitious

The Confederate fleet's position grew more and more dire by the minute. Since the lucky shot on the flagship's gunbay, a destroyer had been sunk when a stray asteroid prevented her from evading enemy volleys. Even the carrier had been unable to avoid seeing damage, though the Confederates thanked their stars that it was minor.

The Republic fleet had begun to close in, bringing more and more of their turbolasers into the fight. The proton cannons of the Providences were still able to make their presence felt, outpunching every gun in the Republic fleet. Alas, there were only four such cruisers in Vader's squadron, and they were not invincible. Each one had suffered damage in some form. But they gave as good as they got, and quite a few Loyalist ships had paid for the advance with their lives.

In-between the two fleets the small craft continued to duke it out, and this was one of the few bright spots for the Confederates. Vulture and Condor fighters were engaging in ever increasingly suicidal attack runs against their foes to keep them off balance, and some had even turned themselves into makeshift bombs and hurled themselves at the Republic's pickets. Even now, Vader watched as the Hyenas split into two formations to begin another bombing run on the enemy fleet.

From the bridge of his ship he observed the formations come in from two different angles to maximize the chance of success, utterly ignoring the enemy flak as they completed their dives. Proton torpedoes were let loose even as some bombers were shot down, quite a few releasing their ordinance milliseconds before they were destroyed.

The bombing runs were not as effective as Vader had hoped, but he still nodded in satisfaction when another Venator was forced adrift with the destruction of her engines, while an Acclamator II violently split in half from a particularly devastating run. Many other Loyalist ships suffered some form of damage, and there were few left that were unscathed now.

But they were still in a better position than the Confederates.

"First Bomber Wing has been intercepted," the tactical droid announced, and indeed Vader watched on the holotable as a blue blip representing Republic fighters pounced on their bombers. Droid fighters were immediately rerouted to give aid, but this only created gaps in the raging dogfights.

The rate of attrition was finally catching up to the droid fighters.

"The First is considered a loss, have them engage suicide protocols," Vader said after a moment, realizing he didn't have the numbers to save the bombers and keep his fighter formations intact. "Third is to return to Independence and rearm. We'll need them yet."

No one blinked at Vader's casual sacrifice of an entire bomber wing. It wasn't as if there were any organics within the formation anyway; the life expectancy of Confederate bomber formations had precluded any thoughts of forming an organic component for that arm of the navy. So, when Hyena bombers surprised their foes by suddenly engaging in kamikaze runs against Loyalist fighters and capital ships, no Confederate soldiers were actually lost. Another facet of the droid army's terrible myth.

"The enemy formation is trying to reorganize, sir," the tactical droid stated. "Some of their ships are vulnerable."

Vader nodded, seeing that the droid was right. "We ought to take advantage of that. Order a general volley, everything we have. Range isn't an issue anymore, so targets may be selected at will."

"General volley, aye sir," the tactical droid repeated, before it relayed the orders to the fleet. Its eyes flashed as it received confirmation. "The fleet stands ready."

"Fire."

This time the proton cannon rounds were accompanied by hundreds of crimson turbolaser bolts from the Confederate ships, specifically focusing on the Loyalist ships that had been knocked out of formation by the earlier bombing run. More Loyalist ships became mission kills, and at this point any Republic victory would be a pyrrhic one.

Had the entire Task Group been with me, this battle would be over already, Vader thought to himself. He didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted at the enemy's refusal to cut their losses; even in the midst of his desperate situation the Sith had not only bloodied his enemy's nose but broken their arm as well. The fact that the ships were holding in spite of everything demonstrated the clone sailors' courage and discipline, along with their commander's stubbornness.

But that didn't detract from the precarious position he found himself in. A costly victory for the Republic would be cold comfort to him and his troops; for them it would be defeat either way. For Vader the thought of defeat and capture was even more foreboding; he expected that the only thing which awaited him if that happened was a Jedi's blade through his neck.

The Loyalist ships returned fire as they regrouped, many of their shots hitting the asteroids and doing no damage, but a few were true and found their marks. Fortunately, no Confederate ships were lost this time.

"Sir," the tactical droid said, getting Vader's attention. "I have been running the calculations, and I believe I have a solution to disrupt the enemy and allow our escape."

"Go on," Vader replied.

"We do not have the numbers to force a breakthrough, that much is obvious," the droid began, gesturing to the blips of their fleet. "That is, if we tried the traditional way."

With that the droid began typing, and a separate projection appeared to outline its plan. As Vader watched, his hairless brows began to rise. He… had not expected this from a droid.

"You want us to use the asteroids as mobile shields?"

"Yes, sir," the droid said, either missing or ignoring the astonishment clear even in Vader's bass voice. "Using the frigates to move them, we can hide the rest of the ships behind the asteroids. They will be both our shield and battering ram, protecting us from enemy fire and destroying anything that stands in our way."

Vader had turned from the table to stare at the droid, his face one of astonishment under his mask. "How in the galaxy did you come up with this?"

"As you said earlier, we will need to fight an unorthodox battle if we are to survive," the droid said matter-of-factly, not knowing the impact its words had on Vader. "Thus, I adjusted my calculations to see if I could find a solution which fit our predicament. This is the course which has the highest chances of success. Is it to your disliking?"

Vader nearly laughed at the question, his astonishment finally giving way. "Far from it. This almost seems like something I would come up with! We'll follow this course of action, send instructions and decide which ships will push the asteroids."

"At once, sir," the droid replied, unaware of the massive respect it had garnered from Vader with this bold plan.

If we survive this, I'm seeing to it that you never undergo a memory wipe, the Sith lord thought, vastly impressed with the growth of the droid's tactical abilities in their short time together. Quite a few of his fellow officers had looked at him askance when he refused to have the droid's memory wiped regularly, seeing it as a strange quirk of their new colleague. But now he had the proof for a theory which he had developed almost from the beginning of his commission.

If Confederate tactical droids were allowed to keep their memory files, to learn and grow in a manner similar to organics, then the results would be a vast improvement in performance in the field.

He was dragged from his thoughts when he received an update: the Loyalists were attempting another push, their ships having finished reorganizing. The Sith ordered his ships to release a more measured volley this time, sequencing their shots instead of releasing everything at once. Meanwhile the carrier Independence reported that the remaining bombers were ready for another sortie. They were ordered to launch immediately, and soon the Hyenas were once again screaming towards the enemy fleet, this time with escorts pulled from the Confederate CAP.

It was a sign of how stretched the Confederate forces were that the fighter escort had to come from the CAP, but needs must.

"Proton cannons ready for another round, sir!"

Vader directed his attention back to the holotable, licking his lips as he eyed the enemy formation.

Victory or not, we'll make them bleed.

Onboard R.N.S. Righteous

The sound of twirling lightsabers filled the corridor in a continuous bass hum, but no opposing blades ignited to meet them. The Jedi were trying to create defensive rings around themselves, knowing that Ventress could come from almost any angle. For her part the Dark Sider hung back from the Jedi, watching their lightsabers with amusement. They might as well have been holding bright neon signs with the words 'Kill me, please!' Well, she planned to oblige them.

Sinking into the Force, she began pulling panels and pipes from the walls, ceiling and floor. A vortex of metal debris soon filled the hall, unseen by the Jedi whose only warning was a nudge from the Force. She didn't wait, and began bombarding the three Knights with the debris. The defensive maneuvers of her opponents became more frantic as they tried to intercept the projectiles, but before long some began to slip through. Her ears were greeted with the sweet grunts of pain and exertion which came from the Jedi, and she knew she only had to bide her time.

There, she thought, her connection to the Dark allowing her to 'see' one of the Jedi stagger from a vicious blow. She wasted no time sprinting at her enemy, her footfalls making not even the slightest sound. When she had made it to within two sword lengths of the Jedi she vaulted through the air, the shadows around the hall appearing to reach out and carry her to her target. Her arms reached out, fingers like the talons of a bird of prey.

Ventress grinned savagely in the dark as her hands found their grip on one of the Jedi, immediately twisting hard. There was a sickening crack, and the body fell to the ground with a dull thud. Ventress used this chance to quickly sprint down the hallway, the outraged cries of the Jedi's companions following behind her. Using the Dark Side to create a shroud had decisively tilted the balance between her and her three opponents; hopefully the cover it offered would buy her enough time to escape.

She turned a corner still going full speed, utterly ignoring the stunned clone troopers that had been engaged with some battle droids. Here the shroud that she summoned had receded, and she had neither the time nor the inclination to call it forward. The Dark Sider didn't even stop to avoid the droids, lithely pirouetting and jumping through their formation. The droids ignored her, their programs recognizing her as an ally. For her part, Ventress made it through the squad in a blink, calling over her shoulder as she continued to run, "hold this point, fight to the last droid!"

She didn't wait to hear any acknowledgements. Turning another corner, she remembered coming this way from the hangar, she heard the firefight behind grow in intensity and the sound of metal being slagged by lightsabers. The droids had maybe, maybe, bought her two seconds. She continued her sprint, going at speeds rivalling those of speeder bikes. She found similar firefights to the one she had encountered earlier, going through them in just the same way. If no clones were directly in her way, she ignored them, and if they were, she dispatched them swiftly with her lightsabers and the Force. She didn't have time to play around.

She could feel the Jedi following her and slowly gaining. Occasionally Ventress would pull some panels or loose pipes from the walls to bar her enemy's path, but it did little to obstruct them. The two Jedi were unerring. Even the droids she continually tried to put in-between herself and them might as well have been wet tissue paper.

She just needed one or two more minutes, then she'd be in the hangar and out of this mess.

"Stop right there sep- gugh!" gasped the clone who foolishly tried to bar her path, his head now twisted one-hundred-eighty degrees in the wrong direction. Honestly, what had he expected? A pat on the head for his courage?

After another couple of high-speed turns that would have made a swoop racer green with envy Ventress spotted the entrance to the hangar. Things seemed to be looking up for her; the SBDs standing guard meant that they still had control.

"Commander," the lead droid said, clicking its heels. "Our boarding parties have been pushed back all across the ship, and losses are heavy. Clone losses are of similar magnitude."

"That's as good of an outcome as we can hope for, I suppose," she said, briskly walking toward the droids. "I assume my ship is still intact?"

"Yes, co-" before the droid could finish, an azure lightsaber soared past Ventress, only missing her because she had sensed the danger and moved an inch to the left. The droid did not have such good fortune, and was impaled to the wall before sliding down, its torso being melted in half by the blade as it did so. Ventress' eyebrow twitched; the droid had been standing in front of the control panel for the door, and now that was slagged along with the machine. She would have to use the Force to pry the doors open. But first…

"You want to die that badly?" she said as she turned, igniting her twin lightsabers. Before her stood the two Jedi along with a dozen clones with rifles at the ready. She heard the droids behind her ready their arm-mounted blasters, along with the whirring of a primed blaster cannon.

The blade which had been thrown was retracted from the wall, soaring into the outstretched hand of the Pantoran. Her earlier bravado was gone, replaced by a steely gaze. Her pose was matched by the male human next to her, his viridescent lightsaber unerringly pointed in Ventress' direction.

Ventress sighed. "Frack it, you had a chance to live another day once already, I'm not giving it to you again. Kill them!"

She leapt through the air as she shouted her order, spinning and flipping in a graceful arc before coming down hard on the two Jedi. The droids unleashed a hail of blaster fire, forcing the clones into cover and forcing the Jedi to spend precious milliseconds deflecting the shots. That small window was all Ventress needed.

Releasing a wordless war cry she slashed downward with her lightsabers as she landed, and while the two Jedi managed to block her strike, they were thrown off balance due to the hasty nature of their defense. Ventress wasted no time, becoming a whirlwind of red plasma and arcane powers. Both of the Jedi were kept on the defensive, their clone allies unable to offer any assistance while they traded fire with the SBDs. In her peripherals Ventress saw blue blaster bolts score multiple hits on the droids, only for the thick armor to absorb the damage and merely stagger the machines. Often a potshot from one of the clones was returned by a withering hail of blaster fire from the droid they had targeted, and in the case of one clone his cover (and him) was slagged by a shot from the droid with the blaster cannon. The corridor was quickly filling with the smell of burnt ozone as lightsabers clashed and blaster fire filled the space.

"Check your groupings, check your groupings! Their armor won't break if you fire like that!"

"Cover me, reloading!"

"Die you tin-gack!" "Hotshot!"

The cries of the clones, and only the clones, filled the air, and their tightly controlled fear only fueled Ventress' abilities. The battlefield was her home; it was where all Sith thrived. Where a Jedi saw a place of slaughter and pain, a Sith only saw a banquet table waiting to be cleared. In her ear, the she could hear the droids communicating over the battlenet. Some of the lines made her smirk in amusement as she battered her opponents.

"BD-555-C, adjust aim by three degrees, target is exposed."

"Roger roger. BD-554-C, pull back, enemy fire is intensifying."

"Negative, will attract enemy fire. The meat bags are distracted."

"… Roger roger, maintain position. BD-559-C, cover BD-554-C."

"Roger roger, exterminating targets."

"BD-550-C, conserve cannon fire, am receiving notifications of overheating."

"Negative, overheating will no longer be an issue if the meat bags are all slag."

"… Roger roger."

Ventress ducked backwards as the human swung his blade horizontally, the attack clearly telegraphed and easy to dodge. It was obviously a ruse, and Ventress turned her duck into a cartwheel as the Pantoran came in with a downward chop, the lightsaber singing Ventress' robes. She retaliated with a Force Push, the attack banging against the Pantoran's shield and buying Ventress precious seconds to get in close. The Jedi expected her to come in with her blades, and so was greatly surprised when the Dark Sider kneed her in the gut before delivering a vicious kick to the head, knocking the alien to the side of the hall in a daze.

Not wasting time to gloat Ventress quickly advanced on the now lone human Knight, and the gulf between their skills soon became apparent. His defense became desperate, and she could tell he was barely holding on and frantically calling to the Pantoran through a Force bond to come to his aid. Ventress only smirked. It was just as her master had taught her; united the Jedi were strong and dangerous, and that was why one needed to learn how to isolate and eliminate them individually.

With the desperation of the human's defense it was only a matter of time before an opening appeared. He staggered as Ventress delivered a swift diagonal strike with her left blade and his lightsaber was held out to the side. With no hesitation she plunged her right blade through the center of his chest, eliciting a pained gasp from the man. He looked down incredulously at the blade embedded within his chest before locking gazes with Ventress. Quickly she retracted her blade and turned to meet the Pantoran, who had charged forward with an enraged and grief-filled cry. The man fell to the floor with barely a thud, his breath leaving him as he tried and failed to say one last word.

Where Ventress had been on the defensive and forced to devote every second of her concentration to avoid her enemies during the first encounter, now she leisurely deflected and parried the last Jedi's strikes. They were now driven by despair and anger instead of technique and strategy, and the Dark Sider relished the feast which appeared before her arcane senses.

"Was he a friend of yours?" she asked tauntingly, gracefully weaving around the increasingly clumsy and telegraphed attacks. "A partner, perhaps a lover? Regardless, it was my personal pleasure to drive my blade through his heart. It looks like he was the only Knight worth a damn amongst you lot."

"I'll kill you!" the Pantoran screamed, and Ventress noticed flecks of sulfuric yellow appearing in the grieved woman's eyes. That wouldn't do.

"No, you won't," she replied, swiftly disarming her opponent with a flourish before slashing across the Pantoran's chest. She staggered at the wound, even attempting to keep on her feet for a moment before collapsing, her unignited lightsaber rolling from her hand. Ventress let out a sigh of contentment, feeling the Dark Side do the same. It had been sated for the day, and she felt it coil around her lovingly in thanks of her offerings. Quickly, she recovered their dropped lightsabers. She hadn't been chatting idly when she said they would be burned as offerings.

She turned from the two Jedi, noticing that the clones had pulled back with the death of both of the Jedi. Several white armored bodies lay scattered around the hall, and when she turned, she saw two droids had fallen as well. Even if it was small and of no import to the larger events going on outside the ship, she felt a thrill of exultation at this tiny victory. Ventress strutted to the hangar doors, her steps confident and her head held high with pride.

"Allow us, commander," one of the droids said, and soon two of them were prying open the hangar doors with little effort opening them just enough for her to walk through before closing them again. Idly she thought on how those droids would all fall defending that spot to the last, but she cared little. More dead clones could only be a good thing, and a few scrapped droids was a cheap price to pay.

As for her, she would live to fight another day, and hopefully add far more kills to her slowly growing list.

Ventress smiled, images of her astride piles of Jedi corpses and the Temple in flames filling her head as she made her way to her fighter.

Onboard C.S.S. Ambitious

It was clear that both sides were exhausted from the prolonged engagement. Hardly any of the Loyalist ships were undamaged, and quite a few dead hulks drifted nearby the Republic formation. The Confederates were similarly bloodied, having lost two frigates and a destroyer outright while all ships save the carrier Independence bore the scars of battle.

But for all the attrition suffered, for all the bravery of the repeated Loyalist assaults and the damage they had dealt, the Confederate guns still fired defiantly. Even now, Ambitious shuddered as her proton cannons delivered a killing blow to a Venator, two shots shearing off the bridge tower while a particularly lucky hit was scored on the hypermatter reactor. Within moments a second sun blazed within the system, and nearby Loyalist ships were battered by the debris, though none suffered any (further) significant damage. Organics on the gunnery deck gave a hoarse cheer at their success, and the bridge crew reported the kill with obvious satisfaction. Above the din, a communications technician called out.

"Commander Ventress has landed," an orderly cried out. "She reports three Jedi KIA."

The bridge crew grew even more excited, both at the news of three Jedi having been slain and at the feeling of relief that accompanied the commander's return. With her aboard, they could finally pull out of this FUBAR operation. It was a sentiment that Vader shared wholeheartedly.

"Everything is in place," he said to the tactical droid. "Prepare to execute the withdrawal. I leave the ships used to propel the asteroids to your discretion."

The order was passed down, and soon two heavily damaged Munificents had maneuvered behind a pair of the largest asteroids. The Confederate fleet positioned behind them, ready to go as soon as the word was given. While the fleet repositioned, the droid fighters grew evermore fanatical in their resistance, having been ordered to hold the line to the last droid while preparations were completed. Squadrons were withdrawn piece by piece as the fleet repositioned, with the last fighters not being pulled out until the fleet was mostly finished. The droids did their duty without complaint or hesitation, not caring if they were wiped out before they were given the order to pull back. It would have been the perfect time for the Republic's small craft to launch their own assault on the enemy, but their commanders were weary of a trap and pulled the pilots back.

Soon the fleet was ready, and a countdown was begun. Anticipation was high as more and more Confederate sailors recognized what was about to happen. For their part the Republic was oblivious to their enemy's intent; their scanners hadn't detected the two ships propped against asteroids. As far as they could tell, the Confederates were readying some sort of column, though they couldn't possibly understand why. Nonetheless, the scrambled to organize a coherent formation, trying to put the ships with the least damage towards the front to strengthen their lines as much as possible.

Just as the Confederate countdown was about to reach zero, there was a new development in the battle. It had been expected by neither side, and indeed could be considered a quirk of fate or the will of the Force. Regardless of what had caused it to happen, what mattered was that it did.

"New ships coming out of hyperspace behind the enemy!" a tech called out. "Scanning… dozens, hundreds… oh gods, it's an entire enemy fleet!"

Vader was able to see for himself the size of the new formation as it came out of hyperspace. There were at least two hundred enemy ships of varying classes. Worst of all, they were directly between his fleet and the jump point to return to friendly space.

"We can't break through that and survive," the tactical droid said, studying the holoprojector. "Scans show at least twenty Venators among their formation. We need a new course."

Vader stayed silent, staring down the holotable as he worked out a solution. He was so close; he would not miss now!

He could feel the sailors in his fleet becoming anxious at the new development, their confidence waning in the face of such overwhelming numbers. He did what he could to act as a bulwark against panic. His presence in the Force acted as a lodestone for the spirits of his soldiers, giving them a sense that there was still hope, that there was a way out, that they would not die.

"What do we do, sir?" the tactical droid said, members of the crew now looking to Vader as they waited for an answer. "The jump point is closed off."

"… One of the jump points is unavailable, but it isn't the only one," the cyborg finally said as he pulled up a map of the local sector. Directly 'behind' the Confederates was another hyperspace route, one that led to friendly territory as well. "This will be our escape route."

"That takes us to the Southern Theater," the tactical droid said uncertainly, glancing at Vader. "They are low on supplies, and the siege of Eriadu has been whittling down their forces. The area is not expected to hold together through the year."

"And yet that is the best way out considering our situation," Vader replied, gaining confidence. "They will have enough to repair and resupply our ships, and after that we can figure out our next course of action. I told you all that you would survive this day, and I intend to keep my promise."

The droid paused, its eyes flashing as it ran the calculations. Though nothing outwardly changed, Vader felt that had the droid been able to it would have sighed in resignation. "Yes, sir. Orders?"

The admiral smirked under his mask. "The two ships will still push the asteroids, but we will evacuate their organic crew and set the reactors to go critical as they reach the enemy. A spread of missiles will be fired to cover their advance. As soon as the asteroids begin moving, the rest of the fleet makes for the jump point. Navigation computers will be slaved to ours, and I want every ship's hyperdrive being spooled up yesterday. If we're even a bit too slow, the enemy will have us."

"It will be done," the tactical droid replied.

Before it had even finished speaking orders were sent through the battlenet to all Confederate forces. The crews of the two Munificents pushing the asteroids swiftly began transferring to other ships, with the droid complements overloading the reactors in preparation for their final charge. It was a further two ships that would be sacrificed, but those two would have already needed months in dock to be repaired. They could render more immediate service to the cause this way. The fleet collectively powered up their hyperdrives, trusting the crew of the Ambitious to plot the coordinates.

Within minutes the fleet was ready. They wasted no time, most ships immediately breaking from the asteroid field for their new escape route while the two fireships began their final voyage. Thousands of plumes sprang up from the fleet, as they launched as many cruise missiles as they could to disrupt the enemy. For the Republic's part they quickly caught on to what was happening, but the closest formation was too badly mauled to affect a pursuit and the reinforcements were still at the edge of the system. The warships that had been protecting the transports and medical ships through the battle could have intercepted the enemy, but their commander was weary of confronting an enemy he knew would savage his forces if he engaged. Thus, the main Confederate force quickly made it to the edge of the system, and before long they entered the realm of Hyperspace, much to the jubilation of the ships' crews and officers.

As for the two fireships, they continued their charge, the asteroids fulfilling their role as massive shields. The droid crews drove them as far as they would go, and they came within a hairsbreadth of detonating their ships within the closest enemy formation. It was not to be. Fighters and bombers from the reinforcing fleet swarmed the two ships, and while the asteroids soaked up the fire coming from the front, they could do nothing about attacks coming from the sides and behind. Bombing runs were made on the ships, and the clone sailors were treated to the sight of two new twin suns briefly flaring into existence. Quite a few Republic small craft were caught in the blast radius, and the missile barrage sent as a parting gift from the Confederates dealt some additional damage to the remaining capital ships. No additional Loyalist warships were lost however.

Thus, the Battle of Milagro ended in a pyrrhic victory for the Republic. They had lost close to two dozen ships, and for all their efforts the enemy had escaped mostly intact. Word would spread quickly of the disaster, and Vader's name was soon whispered with hushed dread among the Republic Navy. When news reached the Republic of the other strikes that had been carried out in tandem with that on Milagro, the dread only grew. Soon they were giving him a moniker.

The Nightmare of Milagro had been born.

Author's Note: It's been a while everyone. I certainly didn't intend for the update to take this long; life has a way of throwing the most unexpected distractions in my path.

Thus concludes the Battle of Milagro, and Vader's legend only continues to grow. His forces have escaped and earned a brief respite, but as you can probably tell their safe haven is a precarious one at best. Task Group Rancor will quickly find themselves drawn into the conflict of the Southern Theater, and they'll need to pull out all the stops. I've always intended for Vader's tactical droid to be a steady presence in the story, and it'll continue making contributions as things progress. Darth Vader, and Anakin Skywalker, has always been at home with his troops and his droids. The rapport he builds with this particular machine will be of importance for future developments in the Confederate military. Ventress also gets the chance to have her time in the limelight. Expect more showings from her in the future.

Ah, a brief sidenote. As someone who was exposed to Star Wars: Republic Commando's interpretation of battle droids as a teenager, I will always use them in favor of the ones from the Clone Wars. I much prefer the thrill of dread and challenge that came from having to jump from cover to cover to outmaneuver an SBD in the game than the comedy we got in the show. If the droid army is supposed to be a threat, then by the Force am I going to make it a threat to be reckoned with.

Before I go, I have a new story up in the Code Geass section titled Britannia's Children. If you want something of my work to read in between Sonderweg, I'll be updating that story in sequence with this one.

With that, I'll take my leave. Drop a review with your thoughts, and don't be afraid to ask questions! Until next time.

P.S.: Reviewer Ace pointed out that I should try to match the Tri-fighters nickname with the rest of the droid small craft (being scavengers and such) instead of using Troika. Thus, the Tri-fighters will be referred to in story as Condor fighters.