Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who has offered comments and suggestions on this work so far. I appreciate the time and effort it takes to make a comment. I hope you all enjoy the next portion of the story.

Infiltration:

As the three commandos advanced down the corridor that led off the platform into the depths of the tree fortress, they found that it was deserted. Whatever sentries had originally been placed there had been shifted to counter the threat of their forced entry. Whether they were now destroyed, or merely keeping watch someplace else was not certain.

But 3-8 knew better than to question their good fortune, so he was pleased either way. Delta Squad could not afford more pitched fighting. The brawl on the platform had already cost them the element of surprise, not to mention valuable time; they were almost ten minutes behind schedule. If they didn't hurry up and deactivate the signals controlling the anti-air platforms in the area, Republic forces attempting to rendezvous there were going to meet some nasty surprises.

Sighting down the barrel of his DC-17M, he scanned the corridor ahead of them carefully. It was largely dark, bathed in shadows and lit only by what little sunlight filtered in through the opening behind them. The walls were lined with torches set in sconces – the preferred lighting method of the Wookies, apparently – but the battle droids that had taken over the fortress didn't need them. Their night vision ability rendered torches useless. Fortunately, Delta Squad didn't need them either; the mechanized Separatist forces weren't the only ones that could see in the dark.

3-8 turned on his helmet's night vision mode, and the details of the corridor ahead sprang into being. They were still a bit fuzzy, but he could see well enough to tell that there were no immediate threats ahead.

"Clear," he said softly. "Let's keep moving."

They picked up the pace, moving with surprising stealth despite their bulky armor and the number of weapons they carried. 3-8 stayed on point, while 6-2 was behind and a bit to his left. 4-0 watched their backs, giving most of his attention to the half-circle of light behind them that slowly shrank as they advanced deeper and deeper into the bowels of the fortress.

3-8 held up a fist as an opening loomed on his right, less than ten meters ahead. "Hold on," he said softly into his com. "Looks like this tunnel's about to end. Stack up."

Scorch shifted to his right, directly behind his commander, and Fixer caught up with the two of them and lined up directly behind Scorch.

"Stacked, Boss," Fixer whispered.

3-8 lowered his fist, and started advancing again, with his two companions right behind him. This formation was one they'd used hundreds of times before. It usually worked best when they were trying to enter a compartment that was sealed off with a door, but it worked well enough in situations like this, as well. When they were "stacked" – lined up in single file – it ensured that any enemies coming out of the opening would only have one target to shoot at, while all Scorch and Fixer would have to do to get a clear shot would be to lean a bit to the left or right. It left 3-8 vulnerable, but his armor could take several hits before he went down. If nothing exposed itself before they entered the next chamber, 3-8 would take the point, while Scorch and Fixer would fan out behind him, to the left and right, covering the entire area with overlapping fields of fire.

They carefully approached the opening, hugging the wall of the corridor with their carbines trained ahead of them. The fortress seemed deathly silent, and the darkness around them took on an ominous, oppressive feeling.

"Nothing on motion sensors," 3-8 informed the other two quietly, his eyes on the readouts that flickered and shimmered on the heads-up display that was holographically overlaid onto the inside of his helmet's visor. "Either nothing's in there, or they're being very still." He glanced over his shoulder. "Standard entry procedure. Ready?"

4-0 and 6-2 nodded back.

"Go!" 3-8 commanded.

He stepped around the corner and moved quickly into the chamber, his carbine sweeping an eighty degree arc in front of him. Scorch was right behind him, sidestepping to the left. He also covered eighty degrees, but was watching the left flank. Fixer went right, his weapon up and ready as his eyes scanned the gray-white representation of the chamber on his HUD.

"Clear," Scorch reported.

"Green here, Boss," Fixer added.

"Looks like they still don't know where we are," 3-8 replied as he completed the sweep of his sector. He tapped some commands into the pad on his wrist guard, and a display of the chambers and corridors that his sensors had been able to map popped up on one corner of his HUD. "There aren't any rooms down here big enough to house the kind of equipment they would need to broadcast commands to the anti-air platforms," he said after a moment. "We'll need to go up."

"That's odd," Scorch said. "My sensors indicate that there are levels above us, accessible from this chamber. But they don't indicate any sort of ramps, stairs, or elevators."

3-8 took a careful look around, but his night vision didn't give him much range on his field of sight. "Fixer, give us a little bit of light, just enough for a quick glance toward one of those access points."

Fixer flashed his helmet lights for a brief second, toward the right side of the chamber. "Ladders," he reported. "They aren't showing up on the scans."

"Ladders?" Scorch echoed. "Who uses ladders these days?"

3-8 chuckled as he headed for the ladder Fixer's lights had illuminated. "The Wookies know their technology," he replied, "but they always go for the simple solution when they can. Give me some cover here." He slung his carbine over his shoulder, then started up the ladder while his companions took up positions on either side of him and trained their sights on the small opening above. 3-8 only hoped that something wasn't up there, waiting to drop a grenade over the edge.

But he reached the top of the ladder only moments later, and nothing showed itself. He unslung his carbine, and made sure that it came over the top first. He stuck his head up just far enough to see over the lip of the opening. "Clear. Looks like a service corridor," he reported. "It's barely big enough for a Wookie, and there's some power conduits up here. We should be able to follow this tunnel to the upper levels; if my hunch is correct, that's where the signal relay station for the platforms will be." He pulled himself up into the passageway, then motioned for the others to follow him up.

Fixer covered the chamber while Scorch hurried up the ladder, then Scorch turned and made sure nothing attacked Fixer while he made his ascent. Fixer pulled the ladder up behind him.

"If they find out we're in here," he explained, "they'll have to go around. Unless they've decided to install hover thrusters on battle droids."

"Not likely," 3-8 laughed quietly. "Good thinking. Come on."

He led them down the corridor at a fast pace. There were no side passages for a long distance; if there was an enemy, the could only come from ahead, and the sooner the commandos met them, the better. The Separatists were aware that Republic soldiers were in the fortress, so 3-8 knew that speed was one of their few remaining advantages.

The passage was low enough that they had to stoop a bit in order to keep their helmets from scrapping on the ceiling, and narrow enough that they could barely pass one another. It would have been exceptionally tight quarters for a Wookie. On the bright side, it would have been hard for destroyer droids or super battle droids to maneuver in either. It sloped steeply upward ahead of them, gradually winding to the left, circling around the mighty tree trunk just a few meters beneath its surface. Occasionally, it would give way into a bridge that led across tall, wide chambers, but all of them were deserted.

"Probably guarding the relay station," 3-8 mused quietly. "We're going to have ourselves a bit of a fight."

"Good, 'cause all these ammo clips are getting heavy," Scorch piped.

"Why don't we just set the detonator here?" Fixer asked. "We can't be that far away from the relay station."

"True," 3-8 replied, "but the wood of these worshyr trees is harder than a lot metals. Not to mention the fact that one reason Class A detonators are so powerful is because of the secondary explosions they cause. There aren't a whole lot of electronics or other explosive materials in this fortress. A detonator placed here might do what we need it to, but we run the risk of merely damaging the relay equipment. We need to make sure it's destroyed completely, so the Separatists can't repair it before the battle's over. We'll need to get a lot closer before we can set it."

They continued to move up the service corridor, advancing as quickly as they dared. Several minutes later, it took a sharp turn to the left; light spilled around the corner, too bright to be daylight.

3-8 held his hand up. "They've set up some artificial lighting out there," he said. "We must be getting close. Hold up here, I'm going to take a look."

The other two held their positions while 3-8 advanced to the corner. He switched off his night vision, then carefully stuck his head around the bend. Less than five meters away, the service tunnel ended abruptly, joining what appeared to be a much larger passageway that ran perpendicular to the one that he was in now. The hulk of a super battle droid stood directly in front of the opening, its back turned to him, and beyond it, several silhouettes moved back and forth in front of banks of bright white lights. He cursed quietly to himself. They were going to have a hard time getting out of this tunnel, let alone the chamber beyond it.

He leaned back against the wall, thinking. A few EMP grenades could clear an initial opening for them, but as soon as they cleared the tunnel, they'd be square in the sights of any droids that had survived the grenades. And who knew what else…

His thoughts were interrupted as something shifted behind him, nearly making him lose his balance. He straightened and turned around quickly. He switched his night vision back on, but the wall looked just it had before. There were no markings or indentations, nothing to distinguish it from any other portion of the tunnel wall; it was just smooth wood. Then what –

"Uh, Boss?" came Fixer's voice through his comm. "You… might want to come take a look at this."

3-8 hurried back to the other two. "What is it?" he asked.

"Turn your night vision off," Scorch said, "and turn your lights on."

3-8 did so, then followed Scorch's gaze as he pointed to the left. All he saw was the wall

"Now turn your night vision back on," Fixer prompted.

Puzzled, 3-8 complied. "Well, well," he muttered to himself. Viewed through night vision, the portion of the tunnel wall that Scorch had indicated shimmered and flickered, glowing a bit brighter than the rest of the corridor. He reached out toward it, and his gloved hand passed through it. "It's a hologram."

"It activated just a few moments after you went ahead," Fixer explained. "I wouldn't have seen it, except I tried to lean against the wall and almost fell through."

"I think I accidentally tripped the activating mechanism," 3-8 put in. "Let's see what's on the other side." He slung his carbine over his shoulder. "Grab onto my shoulder plates, just in case. I'm going to take a look."

The other two commandos took a firm hold of each of his shoulder plates, then he leaned forward just a bit, until his head passed through the holographic wall and to the other side. He was suddenly glad that his companions were holding onto him.

He was looking out at a huge vertical shaft. It extended above and below him for at least several hundred meters in either direction, so far that he couldn't see the top or bottom. He switched on his lights, and still couldn't find the end of it. To his right, he could see the portion of the real wall that had swung aside when he tripped the activating mechanism; it had pivoted out of the way on cleverly hidden hinges. The hologram must have activated just before it moved.

Hanging down the middle of the shaft, some three or four meters away, were half a dozen rope-like vines, swinging gently in the soft breeze that blew from somewhere overhead. Battle droids couldn't climb those, but Wookies wouldn't have had a problem. Clone commandos might be able to use them too.

He smiled grimly to himself. "Deltas, I think we just found the back door."