Author's Notes: Obvious allusions to the "Clone Wars" 'toon here. My regards to it.

Eclipse

Part 35

Obi-Wan's fighter shot forward, the wind blasting over its dagger-shaped hull as it tore through the air, diving in a low arc toward the Commerce Guild's gigantic vessel. Kenobi glanced out to his left, watching as the rest of his fleet followed his orders and drew all fire away from the south wall of the ship. He then zipped under the square shape of the monolith and studied its underbelly. As he looked up into the darkness below, his eyes readjusting in the gloom of the great shadow the vessel cast, he saw its means of offence - a giant, cylindrical pillar of metal. He swallowed - once that thing was released from its lodging, it would create an indentation in the earth and send out tremors so vast it would destroy the very landscape as it was. No wonder the Chandrillans sent out their cry for help - he suspected that elsewhere over the planet, this beast had already wreaked much havoc. This was the means by which the Commerce Guild would threaten the people of the planet - they would give in or be crushed.

A fire ignited in Obi-Wan's veins, and it said 'not on my watch'. He pulled up from beneath the ship and spun back round to the south side, his target.

"Captain," he said.

"Sir?"

"Do not, I repeat, do not deploy troops onto the ground. We can't win on those terms."

"Affirmative, general."

"Continue to draw their fire away. I'm going in."

"Yes sir."

Obi blew his hair up out of his face and pushed the steering vane forward, shooting toward the vessel over again. This was the kind of stunt Anakin would be better at, he thought - and that distracted him. All of a sudden, the wall was looming, and he found that he'd left it too late to pull up! As he finally did, yanking back the steering vane with all his might, he heard his ship skim the edge of the giant, brown vessel, creating an unbearable screech, and taking off a good deal of his paintwork in the process.

He tried not to swear, but he couldn't help it. His R4 unit, meanwhile, was screaming in protest.

"Sorry, R4," he said to the droid, blinking in disbelief at his own stupidity.

"Are you all right, sir?" he heard captain's voice now ring in his ears.

"Yes, I'm all right," he murmured, "I just… lost control."

"Do you want one of my men to--?"

"No!" Kenobi interrupted, "I'll do this."

He spun his craft out, took a good circle round, and lunged once more at the gigantic ship; forward he dashed, on he went, his eyes focused and his thoughts trying to follow suit. The brown hide of the vessel came closer and closer and closer until, with a great lurch, Kenobi turned his ship, flung open the cockpit and leapt out onto the vessel's side. R4 took over and flew the starfighter away whilst Obi clung onto the wall of this metallic mountain, fumbling for his lightsabre as the air tossed through his hair and robes. It was freezing cold up here (and it was a very long fall to the ground, Obi found the voice in his head reminding him); his fingers did their best to hang on as he got his lightsabre out and shifted his body into position. Aiming the projector plate into the ship, he pressed the activation button and set loose his blade. The blue beam shot through the metal with a shrieking sound, as though the ship had suddenly taken on a life of its own and was protesting against such treatment, and Obi had to step back a little as drops of molten metal began to slink down toward his precariously-balanced feet.

He remembered how his master, Qui-Gon, had used this stunt to try and get onto the bridge of the Federation starship a decade back. He just hoped that this exploit would prove at least more fruitful. Satisfied that his 'sabre was far enough through the wall now, he began to move it slowly in a circle, simultaneously aiming not to let his feet slip or his balance waver. The wind kept raging thick and fast into his body, and his fingers grew numb in the iciness of the high atmosphere, but he did not let this divert him from his mission.

Suddenly, however - and without warning - a bolt of laser fire came thundering in by his head and he had to flail at the wall in order to keep his balance.

"Captain!" he yelled into his still-present headset, "I said draw their fire away!"

There was no reply. Kenobi glanced back over his shoulder, clinging for dear life to the few ridges and ledges that existed on this metal wall. There was a fleet in the sky now, coming up behind his squadron, which looked measly in comparison. All Obi could see were thousands and thousands of black dots, gaining magnitude all the time, and he knew that they would have but one aim in mind - and that was to overpower his forces.

"Force…" Obi-Wan cursed and, turning back to the task at hand, tried to cut a hole in the wall as fast as he could. He knew now that he didn't have time to spare.

Then, making him jump out of his skin, his headset suddenly fizzled back to life in his ears!

"Sir? Are you still there, General?"

"Captain?" Obi shouted with an undeniable sense of relief, "Is that you?"

"Sir, the Commerce Guild seem to have acquired reinforcements."

'Really?' Kenobi frowned to himself.

"We can't give you the cover you need as well as deal with this fleet."

"Can we call in reinforcements?"

"I shall try."

"You shall not try, you shall just do it!" Kenobi found himself barking.

As his starfighters started to slip away to deal with the larger threat, he was left open to enemy fire, and he cringed as a shot skimmed his shoulder. He shook off the pain, though, and persevered, continuing with his task - he had to do this! There was a town coming into sight, and he wasn't going to risk civilians letting themselves get pulverised by this thing.

---

'This isn't right, this isn't right at all', Padmé thought as she sat back on a bed and tried to catch a bit of sleep. She rolled onto her stomach in the small, dreary dormitory, somewhere within Grievous' stronghold, and lay her head in her arms, staring blankly at the plain, grey walls.

She felt odd - that was about as far as she had come in summarising her feelings right now. It felt so long since Geonosis, so long since the assassination attempts, the frolicking over the Nubian fields, the time with Anakin… She felt like she'd been travelling and living with the Count forever. She couldn't understand herself, though - why was she now almost feeling content? Why was she no longer afraid? Where was the coldness and the fear? Where was the knot of disgust she had once beheld him with?

She buried her head and exhaled loudly - she just didn't know. She simply could not understand herself at all, and this troubled her greatly. All she did know was that things had changed, and it was up to her to decide on what was going to happen now. No one could make any decisions for her, and she had no one to answer to but herself.

---

Shu Mai was leader of the Commerce Guild. She was one of the few females in the Count's inner circle, but she felt this to be of little importance. You became genderless when you entered these sort of things. She sat in relative comfort in the capital of Chandrilla, tapping her thin fingers on a marble tabletop within the Council chambers. The political leaders of the planet were meanwhile held at gun point before her, both the prime minister and the planet's senator, one Mon Mothma.

The planet was becoming rather a wreck of its former self - Poggle had wrought some marvellous new mechanical beasts in his factories, one being this gigantic earth-shattering thing she simpler referred to as 'It'. Because of It, several cities had already surrendered, whilst others were being obstinate fools and basically inviting It to their doorsteps. They were to become - if they were not already - crushed, dead and buried.

And she thought this war thing would be hard.

Her small beady eyes passed between Mothma and the prime minister, taking in each of them in turn. Neither of them spoke, or even tried to speak, back to the small Commerce Guild head. They were too smart for that. Shu Mai respected this facet of their characters, if nothing else; rarely did she have the pleasure of detaining intelligent prisoners.

Another creature of the same species as her suddenly skulked into the room; he bowed to Mai then related; "The Republic are here, madam. We have engaged them at the fields, just beyond Lythe. Our reinforcements have arrived in time to join the battle."

She nodded; "Good. See to it that the Republic army is destroyed. Continue then with the operations."

The messenger bowed. "Yes, madam," he said, then left.

Mai turned her eyes back on Mothma and the PM and allowed herself a wicked smile. It was customary, after all.

---

Obi bowed his head forward as another volley of fire tore over him, pock-marking the hull. The separatist ships clearly had a greater firepower than his own if they could make such indents where his fighters could not. This was not currently his concern, however. Once the barrage had past, he continued with his work, and slowly went on cutting his circle in the ship's pelt. He was nearly there now, only a few more inches to go before he could, hopefully, get into this monstrosity and bring it to its knees.

The approaching city was coming ever closer, and Obi knew his army was getting ever smaller. He had no idea from whence the Commerce Guild had scavenged such vast reinforcements, but he wished the Republic would come up with the same for him.

Finally, with a fizzle, Obi completed cutting a circle in the thick, metal wall, and, giving it a thud with a combination of his hands and the Force, he managed to push it inward. He subsequently fell straight through with it, and rolled out onto a smooth, shiny floor, on the other side.

Shaking his windswept hair out of his eyes, he then looked up and found himself staring down the barrels of several guns, all held ready by his old friends, the battledroids.

"Ah," he said, then shot to his feet and began to take them out with his lightsabre.

One battledroid managed to scamper off to sound the alarm, however, and a whining siren soon echoed throughout the vessel's inner corridors and hallways.

As the last of the first wave of battledroids fell, Obi-Wan got a few seconds to himself. He looked around the chamber into which he'd burrowed; it was a small, simple room - a maintenance one, by the looks of things - filled with various pipes and blinking control panels. As he walked across the chamber, and then through an open doorway, he found himself on one of many walkways, surrounding the great pillar of metal housed in the ship's centre. This pillar was huge - Kenobi had never seen anything like it! - but he soon overcame the shock by reminding himself of the task at hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of more battledroids scampering toward him from the anterooms below, so he quickly went about ascending up through the many levels of passages and causeways in this vessel, aiming to reach the control room he was certain would be situated at the summit.

---

Boba didn't know what to make of this 'general' as the thing emerged, without warning, onto the bridge of the Corporate Alliance's starship. Argente nearly had a heart attack as he turned to find the tall wraith stood behind him like an overassertive shadow, and spluttered many incoherencies before he calmed himself enough to say; "Why, General, when did you get here?"

Purple had meanwhile found himself a nice niche in the corner to hide in.

"I got here just now," Grievous replied matter-of-factly, "Why do you ask such pointless questions?"

Argente's face went through several different emotions before it settled on feigned humility, and his lips rose in a forced smile. "Wonderful. I --"

"I do not care," the General interjected, wafting his large hand at the reptilian magistrate, "I have come here to… 'help' you with a Jedi Master."

"A Jedi Master…?"

Grievous snickered. "Do not play ignorant. Did you not report of a Jedi Master to his grace?"

"Well, yes…"

"Then I shall deal with him for you. Jedi are my… 'speciality'."

He said it as though it were some kind of cuisine, and this only served to heighten Boba's respect for the creature, whatever he was. The young clone child walked forward and studied the General's skeletal face, watching him as a naïve fledgling might watch a cat, unaware of the savage abilities this strange beast might hold within.

Grievous chose this point in time to swivel his head onto Boba. His eyes met the boy's and young Fett halted abruptly in his tracks, watching those wicked, feral pupils with the utmost trepidation. He had never seen anything like this before. And he did not like it.

"Who are you?" the General asked.

"Boba Fett," the boy replied.

Grievous' thin arm shot forward and took the boy's collar tightly in its grasp, wrenching the lad up off the floor as though he weighed little more than a feather. He held the child aloft, up to the light, and scrutinized him, studying his every angle and watching for the slightest signs of fear or anger. Young Fett did not struggle against the General, despite all this - he would not be weak.

"Count Dooku told me of a boy," he said at length, "You are the son of the man who gave his genetics to the army of the Republic."

Boba swallowed and at that very moment he could tell that Grievous knew he held a secret, a secret that only he and the two Sith Lords held close to their breasts.

"How did that happen?" the General continued, releasing the boy and watching him hit the deck with an uncomfortable thud. "How did you come to be with us when your father clearly served our enemies?"

Boba brushed himself off quickly and got to his feet. "I don't try to understand," he rallied, backing away from the ghostly creature.

Grievous did not move, he just watched the cowering boy until the lad had backed himself into a corner; "Wise of you," he hissed, and left the matter at that. He turned again on Argente; "Recall your army. I am taking over."

Passel seemed affronted. "I beg your --?" But he was cut short as, in the blink of an eye, he felt Grievous' claws slide smoothly, almost tenderly about his throat. He only just managed gasp.

"You beg my what? Forgiveness?" the General teased, his grip tightening, "You certainly will beg for at least that before I am through with you… unless, that is, you cooperate. Count Dooku told you I would be helping you all out, did he not?"

Passel nodded rapidly, his eyes screaming for release from the iron grip about his throat.

Grievous' yellow eyes smiled wickedly at the magistrate. "And you wouldn't want to upset Count Dooku, now, would you?"

Argente shook his head this time.

The General released Passel, allowing his claws to run across Argente's reptilian flesh as he drew them away, scratching slight, harmless grooves into his skin, but reminding him that he could dig much deeper; "Good man," he hissed.

It was then that Boba made his exit from the bridge - for the first time in ages, he felt that he was under threat. This General was suddenly demanding that they all let him pull their strings, and the Force knew what would happen to each of them if they refused…

Young Fett rubbed his throat as he walked away - he respected the General, but he feared him, and that wasn't an emotion he liked to have swilling about his mind. It would not be allowed to remain there forever.

---

Battledroids had the most irritating habit of being in the one place you really could have done without them. Obi had reached the top level of the catwalks within this huge vessel, only to find the doorway to the control room blocked by blast doors and by a good five rows thick of battledroids.

He let his lightsabre sag for a moment, gathering his breath. "Is this really necessary?" he panted, looking between each of the droids' pair of bland eyes as though he could read some kind of emotion in them, "I mean… do you all really want to die?"

The droids were confused.

"Die?" one asked its neighbour.

"Does not compute," the other replied.

They all raised their guns as one - 'when in doubt, shoot' computed quite well, however.

Obi clutched his lightsabre tight as a random droid in the front row chirped, "Blast him!"

Calling upon the Force, Kenobi vaulted into the air and dived with a great yell into their midst, swinging his lightsabre with wild abandon this way and that. Laser fire ricocheted crazily off of the walls all around them, and bits and pieces of droid were soon scattered over the floor like bones in a chaotic charnel house. After five minutes of mad fighting, Obi-Wan stood panting alone in a pile of metal limbs.

"What a waste," he murmured, shaking his head and kicking the bodies aside to get at the thick control room doors. He ran his fingers over the control panel to its side, but the keypad just bleeped and blinked at him, denying his entry. He pursed his lips and shrugged, having no choice but to opt again for the Qui-Gon approach. In a swift, fluid motion, he rammed his lightsabre straight through the doors.

The metal cried out against him and glowed red hot, melting at the touch of the fizzling blue blade. Steadily, small globules of the metal began to drip down at his feet, settling into their newfound graves on the floor below. Obi twisted his 'sabre hilt again, thankful that he had at least some firm ground to work on this time, and patiently went on with his work.

Sirens still bleared all around him, but there didn't seem to be anyone left to come and berate him. He was thankful for this, too - battledroids became very tedious to fight after a while.

A slow and steady job allowed Obi-Wan eventual access to the control room beyond and, springing through the hole in the door, he found himself face to face with more battledroids. Super battledroids, to be precise.

"Ah," he again sighed and, wiping the sweat from his brow, braced against the incoming torrent of laser fire, one that came thicker and faster than any measly assault from the lesser battledroid models. The Jedi Knight moved across the wide bridge, knocking all the shots wildly astray, and tried to gain some kind of upper hand in the situation - it wasn't fast coming, though.

"Blast," he muttered through gritted teeth, his arms now tiring from the exertions they were being caused to undergo, allowed not a moment's respite beneath the relentless barrage.

Fortunately, fate seemed to be on his side. Or at least on the side of a suicidal R4 unit, for, seconds later, Kenobi's starfighter came crashing through the bridge's window, shattering glass all over the show, and blowing eighty percent of the super battledroid clan into oblivion. Obi covered his eyes as he was showered with all manner of debris, then looked to the dagger-shaped vessel, now embedded deep in the metallic flesh of the monolith's innards.

"Well I never," he muttered.

His kamikaze R4 unit gave him a final few blinks till his light went out forever. Obi sighed, giving the courageous and frankly crazy droid a nod of farewell before, not wasting another second, he flung himself at the control panels and cut across every single one that hadn't already been smashed.

A few remaining super battledroids had got back to their feet, but they had lost their strength now that their numbers were gone, and Obi sorted them out with a few fine swings of his lightsabre and with a few nifty blows of the Force to their heads.

Cleaving the last console on the bridge in two, Obi-Wan realised that the ship was not only going down, but seemed to be getting hotter. "Can't be good," he noted to himself and, rushing to the window, saw he was still far too high above the ground to make a safe jump.

There was then an explosion behind him, within the core of the vessel.

Obi soon gathered that there wasn't going to be much choice in the matter, so he took a run up and threw himself out of the broken windows, soaring down to the ground below with his arms and legs outstretched, whilst starfighters zipped every which way around him…

---

Over on the planet Yavin, things had been looking up - 'had' being the key word, of course. Together, Mace and his troops had managed to drive back the onslaught of battle droids and Droidekas, using the thick forests and wide rivers here to their advantage. In the skies, too, the Republic starfighters had driven back the dull-witted, droid-controlled ships, and the firmament looked set to become their own again as well. Suddenly, however - for the ground troops at least - the terrain had changed, and the battle had been drawn out into the open over a giant basin of some sort of gravelly quarry.

Things weren't just turning against the Republic, though - things were becoming eerie. Mace now found that troopers, for what seemed like little or no reason, were falling dead, right, left and centre, all around him; every time he turned his head, a soldier, who had just that minute been stood there erect with his rifle, was lain dead on the floor, run through or decapitated. Windu could only deduce that they were being picked off by an assassin, and whoever he or she was, they were a speedy and incredibly quick killer.

To add insult to this already festering injury, the battle taking place in the sky was now also turning sour. The separatists had made a comeback and were now gunning down the Republic fighters with ease, as though, encouraged by the carnage below, they had gained valour and found their wits.

Mace knew that his former idea - which had involved a highly strategic plan of divide and conquer - was not going to work; too many of his soldiers were dropping down dead, and their numbers had been an integral element to it all. It looked likely that he was to be left alone in this struggle.

Slipping away his personal holographic communicator into his robes, having just alerted one of his friends to the dilemma, Mace now swung his purple lightsabre about in his palms until, distracted, he felt the body of another clone trooper tumble to an ungraceful halt by his feet. The poor man had been flung from across the field to his death, and blood seeped out of a hole in his chest, a cavity that had been hewn by no common piece of weaponry. It had been hewn by a lightsabre.

However, before Mace had time to ponder on this, Droidekas were suddenly whirling all around him. Master Windu clenched his fist, and, the Force obeying, all these droids imploded at his command. Super Battledroids rushed to him, guns held erect; Mace seemed to just wave at them, however, and, the Force again following his movements like an orchestra follows a conductor, he caused all the droids' shells to be blasted through and torn apart. They fell in a million pieces, with clinks and clangs, to the floor.

Mace's gaze narrowed - he waited for the master to appear.

The Force whispered to him - /Behind you, behind you!/ it said, and he swung around... But there was nothing there.

/Above you!/ it cried.

Windu looked up, but his eyes only just caught the tail end of a passing shadow.

/To your right!/

Whoosh - it was gone.

/Your left!/

Whoosh - too slow.

/Above! Behind! In front!/

Mace swirled and twirled, but he could never catch the creature with his eyes, couldn't even sense its essence, as though it were impervious to the Force. All he could do was to hear the voice of the Midichlorians scream at him every time his life fell within inches of this ethereal danger.

"Where are you?" Mace finally found himself yelling in frustration, wound up to breaking point.

…

There was a silence, a long, eerie silence. Debris rolled across the ground, the wind whistled through the broken ship hulls and decapitated bodies. Peace fell on the scene. The battle in the sky had moved on, whilst the battle on the ground was coming to its climax. Mace was suddenly aware of being the only one left - his entire army was dead. His heart pounded in his ears and sweat trickled down his brow.

But, hark! there was a sudden shifting of pebbles to his right!

Mace pivoted about.

But /BEHIND YOU!!!!/ the force then cried.

He turned again.

Thrum.

"Ach…"

But it was too late…

---

There was another explosion, then another, and, with a great crash, the monolithic tower, once known as 'It', hit the ground and sent tremors all across the fields around it. Not too far away, Obi-Wan also met the ground with a great 'oof'; he rolled wildly over the small hillocks and knolls of the area, doing his utmost to cushion his fall with the Force, until his momentum faltered into nothing and he lay still. He managed not to break any bones, at least, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt...

Wincing, he looked over to the smouldering ruin of the Commerce Guild's wicked weapon and shook his head; he prayed he would never see another one of them again. Next thing he knew, though, he was hearing footsteps approach, and a cluster of troopers were soon gathered about his self.

"Are you all right, sir?" Captain asked.

Kenobi blew up part of his fringe and replied, despite everything, "I'm fine, captain."

"The battle in the skies has moved toward the capital. They're trying to draw us into civilian areas," the captain went on.

"Then we must draw them back out," Obi determined.

"There is still much unrest, and not just over in the capital."

"Then we'd better get moving," Obi added, beginning to walk off as he spoke, "There's much to do, and we don't have time to waste."

"And Master Windu has sent you a message," Captain stated.

Obi blinked and drew to an abrupt halt in his tracks. "He has?" he asked, turning back to the Clone Trooper with a look of unease creasing his brow.

The clone trooper walked up to the General and opened his hand to him, passing Kenobi a small, handheld communicator. Obi looked at the device uncertainly, before he pressed his thumb down onto one of the buttons and, following a buzz of interference, watched the device tremble into life. A fuzzy, small, holographic image of Mace Windu manifested itself on top of the device, and the Jedi Master looked as though, whenever he had made the message, that he had been constantly on the move, trying to avoid some unseen enemy.

"General Kenobi," Windu muttered, short on breath, "It seems the Separatists have played their trump card against me. There's some… something out here. It's wiped out half my army already and is closing in." He took a breath. "I hate to admit it, old friend, but I could really use some help!" He flashed one of his brave, charming smiles, but the emptiness in his eyes told of his distress; "If you can spare yourself, General Kenobi… I need you."

The transmission faded.

Obi stared at the void where his friend's image had been for a while before he glanced at his captain; "I have to go," he said automatically, "I'm sorry."

"Then what are your orders, sir?" Captain continued.

Obi ran a hand back over his head, wiping the sweat and dirt from his brow and clearing his hair from out of his face. "Purge the capital of the Commerce Guild," he said, "I'll take a squadron of troops with me to Yavin. If things settle out over here, then you will follow me as soon as you can, but only on the condition that this planet is secure. We need garrisons set up here long before you leave. We cannot let the Separatists come close to conquering this one. Keep up the battle until it is over. Is that clear?"

The trooper nodded, "Yes, General."

Kenobi gave him a slight nod in return. "Good. Then let's move."

TBC…