The others spent the trip going over different strategies on how to deal with Slave Town, but Nailah felt like her bones were made of jelly, so she sat back in her seat half listening to the others. The events of what had happened were sinking in more with each moment…those things they saw underground…the Empire losing their target…and of course, them officially parting ways with the Talons.

On the one hand, it was a relief to be rid of them, no longer would she have to suffer their jibes and vulgar personalities. But on the other hand…they were good, and they wouldn't have been able to pull this off without their help, there was no denying that. Regardless, they had fulfilled their part of the bargain, and they could probably handle Slave Town without them.

"You know, kid," said Han suddenly. "I'm surprised you didn't pester Zar and the others to help us on this suicide mission."

Nailah glanced at the smuggler turned Rebel. "Don't tell us we should go back and offer them bonus pay. Kashvi and I have already suffered enough in the brief time we spent with them."

Luke grinned wryly at her, but told Han, "I did try to get them to join us…unsuccessfully, of course. But then I realized that if they were going to join us, they'd have to make that decision themselves. Kind of like how it happened with a certain smuggler, actually."

Chewbacca gave a growling chuckle and Han raised an eyebrow. "Can't imagine who that could be." Then his expression turned somber. "Listen, Luke, your plan could just as easily get you blown up, you sure you want to go through with it?"

"Yes," Luke replied determinedly, an edge in his voice. "I owe it to Locus after what he said about my father. Unless you think he'll actually try to recruit me?"

"Not a chance," Kashvi interrupted firmly from her position at the pilot seat. "You should hear what happened to the others who got swindled by him. Almost as bad as what he did on Umbara."

Luke nodded and turned to Nailah. "Anyway, Nailah, do you want to try and get on one of the transports out of here? You've done more than enough already."

Suddenly her exhaustion seemed to vanish, and she found herself drifting back to one fateful day on Ryloth, many years ago…

Nailah gripped her father tightly as they crouched down in the basement. They waited with bated breath for the end to come. "We could still make a run for it," whispered Aruna.

Tal shook his head. "I just received a call from Akar before I came here. The droid fighters are also taking out any Twi'leks that try to flee their homes. We'll be blown to pieces before we could find cover—"

Even from where they were at, they could hear explosions. They all gasped and held onto each other…but then Tal spoke up again. "Wait…something's wrong, that noise is coming from too far away." His face lit up. "Wait here!"

He gently pried Nailah's hands off and ran up the stairs. After a moment of indecision, Nailah charged after him. "Nailah!" her mother screamed, but she ignored her.

Her father stood in the doorway, a grin on his face, though it vanished after he noticed his daughter. "Nailah! I thought I told you to—!"

Another explosion rang out and he looked up. Nailah followed his gaze, and saw that a squadron of Republic fighters were taking out the droids, but two of them were coming down towards the village, with smoke trailing behind them. Tal looked indecisive, but then said, "Nailah, get your mother, tell her to bring the medical supplies! We may have to help those pilots if they crash into the village!"

Not long later, they rushed outside in time to see the fighters grind past their house, eventually skidding to a halt down the street. Other Twi'leks had dared to venture outside to see what was going on as well. "Unu!" Tal ordered one of them. "Get Byar! They'll need help repairing their ships—Nailah, get back here!"

Nailah had run towards the ships, eager to help in any way she could. As she got closer, she saw that the ships, a red one and a yellow one, were still fairly intact despite the damage. The yellow ship's cockpit burst open, and a human climbed out. "No, we're fine!" he said into his comm. "Just keep taking down as many droids as you can, the Twi'leks' safety is your top priority!"

The red one's cockpit opened and a Togruta a few years older than her clambered out. "This is crazy, Master!" she coughed, as she tried to avoid breathing in the smoke from her ship. "Are you sure we're not getting any more backup? There's too many droids, I don't know how we can stop them all on our own!"

The human walked over and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No, Snips, we're all the Twi'leks have got right now. Just keep it together, as soon as we get the ships back in—"

The Togruta had noticed Nailah and stared at her. The human followed her gaze and gave a start. "Huh, we have company already. Your daughter, I take it?"

Nailah whirled around and saw her father walk up to them. He sighed and laid a firm hand on Nailah's shoulder as well. "Yes, my daughter, Nailah. A bit too eager, but she means well. I am Tal Dvaita, until the Separatists have been driven from Ryloth, I'm acting head of this village."

"I'm Anakin Skywalker," said the human, and offered his hand. "And this is my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano."

Tal shook it. "You have our thanks, Master Skywalker. Please, allow us to help repair your ships, it's the least we can do."

The two Jedi looked relieved. "No, thank you, Tal. The sooner we can fly again, the sooner we can free Ryloth."

Byar had finally arrived, accompanied by his crew, and they brought their supplies over to the ships. Anakin went over to give them instructions, and then Tal told Nailah, "Stay here in case I need you to bring us anything or to pass on instructions to the rest of the village…I mean it this time, Nailah."

Nailah nodded and her father joined the others. Then she noticed Ahsoka staring at her compassionately. "Don't take your father's words the wrong way, he's just concerned about you. But still, you were really brave coming out here to help us."

Nailah felt her face flush and she stared down at her feet. "I'm sorry," she muttered, and she blinked away angry tears. "I hate feeling so useless…I just want to help everyone. The Separatists have taken away so much from us…" She choked up and closed her eyes.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Ahsoka kneeling in front of her. There was nothing but understanding in her eyes. "Believe me, I know how you feel. You'll get your chance to help out eventually."

"Really?" asked Nailah, surprised. "But you're a Jedi! You're not much older than me and you're still fighting the Separatists!"

This time Ahsoka looked awkward. "Yes…but I'm still a Padawan. I have a long way to go before I'm as good as my Master, I've already screwed up a lot on this campaign alone. But I'm still doing my best to learn and improve from my mistakes. Can you promise me that you'll do the same?"

Nailah nodded and Ahsoka smiled. "Then you're already on your way to help your people."

Some time later, the ships were prepared. "Thank you," Anakin told her father, and he bowed. "Hopefully we can repay the favor soon." Then he got into his ship, and added, "Alright, let's get back into the fight, Snips!"

He took off just as Ahsoka got into hers. "Hopefully our paths cross again," said Ahsoka, and she waved at Nailah. "Until then, may the Force be with you."

Nailah waved back as Ahsoka flew after her Master, as they both returned to the Clone Wars.

Of course not. Even if his father hadn't saved her and her family on Ryloth, she couldn't let Luke, Han, Chewbacca, or the others take all of this on by themselves. "Respectfully, Commander Skywalker," she told him, straightening herself. "Our work isn't done on Yuca. I'm not leaving until every one of those slaves is on a ship out of here, and Locus's reputation is left in pieces."

"Admiral!" shouted an officer in the command pit. "They're losing more of their commandeered ships! Should we continue pressing them, or focus on the Rebels?"

Ozzel gave a tight vindictive smile. Finally, things were turning around. "Keep at them, Ensign. We'll deal with the Rebels once these thieves are blown to atoms—"

"Sir!" interrupted another officer. "A squad of those ships are heading for the Interdictor! They've been heavily damaged, but they're not slowing—"

Ozzel ignored him as he barged down to the console. Sure enough, the stolen ships were in bad shape, as they pelted their target with lasers and proton torpedoes. Despite the turbolaser fire from the Interdictor, they stayed on course, even as it shot two of them down. And then Ozzel realized what they were doing seconds before it happened.

Instead of veering off, the ships crashed directly into the Interdictor's bridge. The ship rocked with explosions, until one of them finally tore it to pieces.

The first officer brought him more bad news. "Admiral, more Rebel ships have broken through, they're heading for the surface! Orders, sir?!"

Purely on instinct, he barked some orders, only half aware of what he was saying. Truly, this planet was cursed.

Anvil scanned the jungle from where he was on top of the wall, then turned back to his holoprojector. "Still no sign of them, sir. Should I send the scouts into the jungle, or wait for Skywalker to come to us?"

The Moff's hologram waved a dismissive hand. "Continue to stand by. And if there's still no sign of him within the hour, begin terminating the slaves. And on the open frequency."

Anvil's throat clenched, as he tried to choose his next words wisely. "Sir…with all due respect, even though Project Uraeus has been scrapped, these slaves can still be used somewhere else in the Empire—"

Locus actually laughed. "Commander, there are billions of lives to be used and spent as we wish. Even if I had the Revenant's gunners use them for target practice, it would result in no real loss for the Empire. As a matter of fact, do it now, give Skywalker some incentive…"

He had served Locus for much of his military life. He had stood by and watched as the Moff had done things that still stalked him in his nightmares. There were moments where he had wanted to protest, but had kept silent. And he would always be a loyal servant to him and the Empire and he had sworn to serve. But…

"I'm sorry," Anvil interrupted, his free fist clenched firmly by his side. "But I can't do that, Moff Locus."

The Moff broke off. Anvil hadn't seen him so stunned since Tena had run away with his daughter, Tauria. "What?" Locus said blankly, a dark tone entering his voice. "What did you just say, Commander?"

"Commander, look!" yelled one of the stormtroopers. "Incoming Rebels!"

Anvil turned off the holoprojector and ran to the edge. A stolen ITT was charging at the gate, barely dodging fire from the AT-STs. Anvil shook his head. These Rebels clearly had more guts than brains.

But then a hatch opened, and an orange suited figure jumped onto the roof.

"All walkers!" Anvil bellowed into his comm. "Hold your fire! That's our target! I repeat, Skywalker is on that ITT, don't shoot to kill—!"

The rest of his order got cut off as Skywalker leapt off the ITT, and it slammed into the gate, detonating on impact. The walkers held their heavy fire, but their pilots and the other troopers on top of the wall fired stun blasts en masse. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough, Skywalker's lightsaber, the same one that Anvil had seen Anakin cut apart so many droids and Separatists with, blocked them with ease. A missile shot out of the jungle, slamming into one walker and blowing it to pieces. And all too soon, Skywalker was back in the cover of the jungle.

Anvil reactivated the holoprojector. "Forgive me, Moff Locus. Skywalker just made his move; he destroyed the gate, so we should expect the Rebels to invade Slave Town soon. I'll try and have the hole sealed—"

"No," Locus interrupted, his face composed but serious. "Let them come. Once they're in, block the gate, and send reinforcements to the Venator squad. There will be no escape for them this time." And before Anvil could turn it off again, Locus spoke again. "Also be aware, Commander, that I have mobilized our troops to round up the slaves into the central compound. Should Skywalker find cover in the other buildings, let him know that if he continues to hide, we shall begin terminating slaves."

Anvil's mouth went dry as the Moff looked him in the eye. "We already lost the Voidbreaker, Anvil. We will not avoid Vader or the Emperor's wrath if Skywalker slips through our fingers as well. Keep that in mind."

He and Moff Locus had witnessed what had happened to their comrades after they had exhausted the limited mercy of the two most powerful men in the Empire. No matter how hard he tried to forget, each punishment, every scream, was etched into Anvil's memory. After a deep breath, Anvil replied, "I understand, Moff Locus."

Brogan was sure that even if they were all devoured by these mutants, the Imperial propaganda would paint it as a grand and valiant last stand. He wondered if they'd bother to try and give him a more noble end than him currently hiding among the debris, or neglect to mention him. At least the others, for better or worse, were firing at the mutants from behind their cover. But one by one, the mutants found and bit them, either recruiting more into their ranks, or engorged themselves too much on their victims' flesh.

A clawed hand shot through the hole in the rubble and dragged him out. All he could see now was a massive hole with teeth. Then a laser bolt shot through its head and it collapsed. "Can you get someone else to babysit you, you slimy Huttlet?!" snapped Tazah. "The rest of you, fall back to the—!"

It was no use. The rest of her comrades were pounced on by the mutants. One unlucky soul was bleeding out and got thrown into Tazah. They both fell in a heap and Tazah struggled to get her off of her. The Yucabra headed mutant in question was bigger than normal, and had no ripped clothes or a uniform, probably one of the original ones from the underground city. It stalked towards them, clearly taking its time enjoying this.

For a moment, Brogan was tempted to flee once more…but, he'd be dead if it hadn't been for Tazah. Besides, he had a better chance of getting out of this with his comrades, rather than on his own. He raised his blaster and shot the mutant. Unfortunately, his hands were shaking, and he had blasted it in the leg. But thankfully, it stumbled back, furious and in pain. Not wasting his chance, he helped get the dead trooper off of Tazah, and they fell back to a ruined tavern.

The sole survivors who had been with Tazah made their way to the center of the foyer, trying to blast the mutants under the cover of some wrecked speeders, but the mutants dodged the shots, and slowly but steadily got closer to them. Brogan hoped with all of his heart that the mutant who had been chasing them would join its pack instead.

Of course, he wasn't so lucky. The mutant was determined to get revenge for its injury. Despite the various blasterfire and explosions, it made its way towards them, its face twitching somewhat. Probably eager to taste more Imperial flesh. Brogan lifted his blaster and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. He had run out of ammo. He glanced at Tazah, who shook her head. "I got nothing," she coughed. "But still, I appreciate the effort, Brogan…even if you are a political slimeball."

Brogan tried to find a biting comment, but it died in his throat, and he steeled himself as best he could despite his limbs turning to mush.

And then the mutant stopped.

Its face began to twist and writhe in pain, its eyes full of confusion and panic, and blood began trickling down its jaws. And then it collapsed.

Brogan and Tazah looked at each other in bewilderment, unable to say anything. Then after a quick check to confirm the other mutants were too busy to deal with them, Brogan darted out of their hiding place, and checked the mutant out. No major injuries. No signs of poison. Not even a small Ahmuzen or other deadly Yuca insect bite. No real reason why this creature should randomly drop dead.

Brogan noticed the other mutants leaving his fallen comrades at the wrecked speeders and began to join the other mutants, stalking towards the other hidden troopers. The mutants' inhuman screeches mingled nightmarishly with the sound of blasterfire in the background. "I don't think these things will drop dead too," he muttered bitterly, but he picked up a fallen blaster regardless. Yesterday, he'd happily leave the other Imperials to save his own skin, but after what had just happened, he'd be damned before he went out curled up in a ball while the others fought—

A figure leapt off a nearby roof and into the middle of the ring of mutants. It flung out its hand and what looked like a red disc of light sawed through the air toward the nearest mutant. The creature's scream died instantly, replaced with the sound of searing flesh, as the thing's head was cut off. The disc continued towards the other mutants, each beginning to turn around to see what had happened, each one too late to save itself from decapitation. By the time the last one fully turned around and saw the disc's owner, it couldn't even blink before the disc took its head, and the disc returned to its owner.

"All too easy," Vader grunted, as he snatched his saber back.

Barely a moment later, there was an explosion up one of the streets, and bits of mutants showered the earth. A small swarm of mutants tried to flee, but an Occupier tank rumbled towards them, pelting them with lasers. One more blast from its medium cannons and the area appeared to be free from mutants for the time being.

"General Veers!" boomed Vader. "What is our status?"

A helmeted man popped out from inside the tank. "Bloody," he replied crisply, "but progressive. We're beginning to push them back. When would you like us to turn our attention to the other Rebels?"

"Moff Locus has assured me that once Skywalker falls into his trap, the blockade will prevent the Rebels in Slave Town from escaping. For now, the rest are irrelevant."

Brogan tried to find his voice and get Vader's attention, but instead he turned towards the other troopers coming out of the rubble. "And why were you hiding? You are soldiers of the Empire. Meet your enemy head on in the battlefield, unless you'd prefer to face me instead—"

"Lord Vader!" Brogan spluttered. "I have important news! This mutant just died—"

He broke off as Vader turned his attention to him. "As expected," Vader interrupted acidly. "Unless you expect me to congratulate you for terminating a mere one of the many enemies attacking our Empire?"

Much to his own shock, Brogan found some hidden grit he never knew he had, and stood his ground. "No, we didn't do this. We were out of ammo at the time, but it stopped before it could attack us, and dropped dead a moment later."

Brogan's innards turned to lead as Vader looked at him; he felt like he was being scanned. Then Vader turned to the mutant being dragged to them by Tazah, and then to his General. "General Veers," he boomed, "bring this to Dromus or one of the other scientists, along with a live specimen. And be sure to terminate it after their research is done."

Veers glanced at the many bodies on the ground. "It'll be difficult finding one," he said warily, "much less securely delivering them—"

A mutant, this one with the head and fangs of an Ixchel, leapt off a rooftop towards Vader. The armored figure's fingers curled, and the mutant stopped in midair, seized by an unseen force. Then Vader's saber ignited and flashed across the creature in a series of crimson blurs. The mutant screamed as its limbs fell to the ground. But one twitch of Vader's hand later, it slammed against a building wall, and fell unconscious.

To his credit, Veers' eyebrows only raised a fraction, whereas everyone else, Brogan included, stared at Vader's accomplishment in horrified awe. "As for you," Vader continued, his head turned to Brogan, "Lieutenant…?"

Brogan stood at attention. "Brogan, my lord."

Vader nodded. "You and the rest of this squad will answer directly to General Veers until this matter has been resolved."

Hyerox stared at the screen with marginal admiration, his steepled claws clacking together. The red haired rat, who Hyerox wouldn't have bet on in a fight with a Sobol from his homeworld, had not only survived and identified the problem with his mutants, but actually spoke up to Vader. And it seemed he wasn't the only one interested in the Imperial; the various bar patrons were muttering to each other, and many grumpily handed credits to some of the bet makers.

"Well, I'll be a Harch's uncle," grumbled Arkeem, as he forked over his own credits. "Didn't think I'd ever see Brogan ever willingly get within a parsec of Vader, let alone stand up to him."

Hyerox's scales shivered. He kept his eyes locked on the human for a moment more, then turned to Arkeem. "What makes you say that?"

Arkeem howled so hard with laughter, he nearly crashed his ship. "Sorry," he said hastily, trying to make himself heard over the others who had also laughed at Hyerox's inquiry. "But Brogan is the most corrupt and foul Skungus to ever blemish the galaxy. Name a bribe or favor; spying, sabotage, assassination, theft, he's done it all to get himself further up the Imperial ladder."

"Miserable vrelt," hissed Terro suddenly, and he took a bite out of his latest meal. He ground each piece into a pulp as if it were Brogan's head, as he glared at the Imperial. "The spirits be willing, I will wipe him from the face of this planet if I can—"

"Not if I will it otherwise," Hyerox interrupted, his eyes locked onto Terro's. The Trandoshan backed down resentfully, and continued his meal. Hyerox turned back to Arkeem. "Does he particularly care who helps him further his ambitions?"

Arkeem smirked and shook his head. "Not at all. But don't expect much else other than a few favors. Trust me when I say that what happened today will be a one-time occurrence. Period."

Before he could comment any further, Ontho came up to him. "Sorry, Hyerox," he whispered. "It's the Clawdite; he's got news."

He gave Hyerox a comm and immediately a voice came out of it. "Hyerox, it's me. Something is going on over here."

"What is it?"

"It's one of the rookie officers, he's saying he's got proof that Moff Locus aided the Rebels. I saw him steal something out the Moff's office earlier, which must be it…that is, if he's telling the truth."

His scales shivered again. Arkeem noticed it with a perplexed expression. "What's got your scales in such a quiver?"

Hyerox shrugged as he grabbed a bottle of ale. "Simply figuring out which pieces on the board need to lose, which ones I can abuse, and which ones," he added as he finished the bottle, his eyes locked onto Brogan, "I can use."