Star Wars 2.0

Episode 5: Rise of the Clones

Chapter 4

Obi-Wan stood on a slight rise using his lightsaber to deflect whatever shots came his way and looking over the battlefield. His army consisted of a mixture of several races; none of them working in concert with one another. Aqualish, Bothan, and Ishi Tib made up the majority of the soldiers, and each had their own ideas of how to fight the battle. When Obi-Wan sent orders to the Aqualish to support a Bothan advance, the commander of the former claimed to have a better opportunity of attack, and that the Bothans should support them. The Ishi Tib, who were supposed to be in reserve and filling gaps, had been impatient and sent forward half their forces where they got mixed in with the other two.

The feuding came at the worst time as their enemy outnumbered them, and they were not splintered. Though the droids were not good fighters, they came on in overwhelming numbers, and their laser fire was like rain over the environment. The republic armies mowed them down like grass, but even taking only one loss for every ten droids they destroyed, they were still taking a greater percentage of damage.

Every time the Republic seemed like it might pull off a victory, another Separatist ship dropped off another wave of droids. And they were landing in strategically sound locations. Their usual strategy was to mass their numbers along a single block that tried to steamroll its enemy, but today they were appearing on their sides. And they had a reserve of droidekas which rolled into position to probe both flanks.

Obi-Wan suspected that they were being led by a commander of whom he had recently learned; General Graves. It was a droid programmed with a combination of some of the greatest strategies known throughout the galaxy. It had an innate knowledge of every weapon type, every tactic, and every strength and weakness of every unit that could face its forces. It was the perfect war strategist.

Though Graves hardly needed to be so perfectly designed. The allies fighting for the Republic were so disjointed that they were hardly a match for the united front of the droid tsunami that came at them. And Obi-Wan knew all too well that every loss they took would take a generation to replace, while the droids would simply replace the damaged parts and have them back on the field in a matter of hours.

Obi-Wan reluctantly admitted that they needed to withdraw. He called for the ships to fly in; some to provide air cover, some for transport. The response told him that it would take a few minutes while they broke free of the dog fighting taking place above their heads. Obi-Wan wondered how many irreplaceable lives that would cost while they waited, and how many more would be destroyed in the skies fighting the easily replaceable droids.

For now, though, he needed to concentrate, and let the Force be his guide as he deflected away shots, sending as many back to their shooters as he could.

The droids seemed to detect that the Republic army would be trying to retreat soon, as they began to push harder, with a suicidal urgency. Now the casualty list grew closer to fifteen to one, but the droids kept refilling their ranks, and the Republic units pulled back into defensive positions. This would be General Graves' doing. Battle droids couldn't react to conditions so instinctively.

With destroyers once again rolling around their sides, Obi-Wan had to do something to stall the enemy. So he rushed forward and leaped into the mass of robots. There he began chopping, cutting through the small frame of the droids without effort. They dropped like skeletons with a bone removed. Once the unit he had assaulted slowed their movement to turn on him, Obi-Wan leaped to the neighboring unit and cut away. He repeated the process when that unit turned on him, skipping from droid block to droid block slicing holes into their middles. This brought the onslaught to a standstill as the droid programming called for them to halt and face any intruder that appeared among them. Some of them took out their own comrades as their shots went wild and they were facing one another. Such casualties crippled the front line.

Then Obi-Wan saw it. Standing atop a rock outcropping was a skeletal, metallic beast, its polished silver glinting in the sunlight. It stood seven feet tall at least, and it bore four arms and red, glowing eyes. It was watching Obi-Wan. General Graves. Obi-Wan showed off for his rival, cutting up a few more droids and deflecting a couple shots while keeping his eyes on the general.

Graves, in turn, held out its four arms wide, as though daring Obi-Wan to shoot at it. The general would be in range if the Jedi had a rifle; but alas, he only had his lightsaber. Then Graves did something that shocked Obi-Wan. He lit four lightsabers, each in one hand. They covered different color spectrums; orange, yellow, blue and green. No droid had shown even an interest in wielding a Jedi's weapon, but Graves began spinning all four of them as though boasting.

A blast of cannon fire pounded the ground around Obi-Wan. The gunships had arrived and were providing covering fire for the withdrawal. "Time to leave," Obi-Wan said to the droids around him, and he leaped out of the combat back to his own soldiers.

"Get to the transports!" Obi-Wan ordered. The Bothans protested. The Aqualish and Ishi Tib shoved one another to be the first on the ships. They took almost as many casualties from their own infighting during the escape as they had during the entire battle.

Obi-Wan held out last; making sure the Bothans boarded the ships. There were enough for everyone, though that didn't stop some from trying to shove out members of other races like siblings on a road trip. As the Jedi master took off into the sky, he made a mental comparison of his own forces to that of the programmed army below. The Republic would need better discipline, and better coordination, if they hoped to defeat that foe.

And looking at the metal hulk leading them, Obi-Wan knew that there would be something more even still to ultimately win the day.

After landing back on Urobo, Owen eagerly awaited the slaves to unload his vessel. As they did, he looked them all over, trying to find the one who had predicted his engine trouble. She was nowhere to be found, so he asked around about her, describing what she looked like. He remembered particularly her very round face. Most of them didn't know who he was talking about, but one at last answered, "That sounds like Baroo."

"Baroo?" Owen said. "Okay, when does she start her shift? I need to speak with her."

"Shift?" the slave asked.

"Yeah. When does she begin work?"

"Begin. Sir, we are always working."

"I know, but... Sorry. I'm sorry about that. But I need to speak with her. Where is she working?"

"If she is not working the platforms, then she might be at the warehouses, or in the holding cells until they have a job for her to do."

Owen tried to find out from him where the warehouses or the holding cells were, but the slave was afraid of being beaten if he didn't get back to work. The other slaves were afraid to speak, and the slave driver told Owen to mind his own business.

Owen paid the port fee and didn't get another job right away. Instead, he asked around about slave quarters. It was a subject most did not care to speak about, but one person said they had once noticed where the slaves were taken after their work. He gave some basic directions and then said, "Just follow the smell from there."

Owen learned quickly what the man had meant. The slave quarters were not far from the space port and was within a close distance of warehouses and other locations with labor needs. The smell could be detected from just about any of these locations. Down a few steps and nestled within a series of alleyways, the slaves were kept in a quarantined ghetto where guards could easily watch every exit point. Owen had to sign in and his picture was taken to ensure he would be allowed to leave. He was painfully aware that the souls he witnessed inside the dirty hovels would never be allowed to. He reminded himself why he was there and searched for Baroo.

He found her sitting on some steps watching others pass by as though scrutinizing them. Her eyes landed on Owen with a confused gaze. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Where did you learn about engines?" Owen asked.

Baroo chuckled. "Your engine blew, huh?"

Owen shared the laugh and nodded. Then he said, "How does a slave know anything about an engine?"

"Wasn't always a slave," she said. "Da and Ma used to be mechanics. They taught me some stuff before we got swept up and put in cages."

"Where are they now?" Owen asked. Baroo glared at him, then shrugged.

While Owen spent his evening with one of the slaves on Urobo, Anakin landed with Queen Amidala's escort on Brodax, the Legion's capitol. Like Owen, the large number of slaves bothered Anakin; and the fact that the Republic that he defended was creating an alliance with them bothered him even more. He kept silent, however, as they were greeted by dignitaries and escorted to their quarters. Their bags were carried by slaves, which made Anakin particularly uncomfortable.

Every member of Amidala's train were placed in separate rooms, but Anakin was to stay on a cot in hers. There was a heightened risk here, so they would be taking no chances. The queen sat back on the bed and rested. It had been a very long journey, and the ship's quarters didn't match the comfort of a soft mattress with pillows. With her visit to the king being more than an hour away, she had time to recuperate and consider what she would say.

It was hard to rest, however, with her bodyguard aggressively pacing the floor. "Are you to keep me safe by wearing down a trench into the floor?"

"Who are these people we're meeting with? What kind of people are they?"

"I am meeting with the leaders of the Tempus Legion; an affluent series of planets who can aid us greatly in the war against the Separatists."

"And slave drivers," Anakin said.

"Yes," Amidala said, pausing. "They have slaves. I am not fond of that either."

"Then why are we currying their favor?"

Amidala sat up and didn't answer for a moment. She didn't quite know how to; how it had come to this. "Lord Skywalker, you must have heard from your fellow Jedi. How the war is going."

"They haven't really talked about it," Anakin said.

"We are overwhelmed. They have an endless supply of droids, and our manpower is finite, and decreasing every day."

"So we need cannon fodder."

"We need soldiers."

"You know they'll give us their slaves first. To stand in the front line and be slaughtered. How far are we going to go to preserve the Republic?"

"As far as we need to!" Amidala said, suddenly very forceful. Anakin didn't respond, so she said, "Get some rest Lord Skywalker. We shall need great mental fortitude when meeting with the royal family."

To be continued...