Above the skies of Cato Nemoidia, the battle for the skies was underway. Weaving around bridge extensions that united pillars of moss covered stone were the fighters of the Republic and Separatist alliance. As LAAT gunships streaked through the low hanging clouds blanketing the lower atmosphere, fighter escorts did their best to hold off the Vulture Droids intent on delaying their approach. If that meant launching suicidal runs against the attackers, the droid brains aboard those starfighters did not hesitate to carry out their programming to each binary signal.
But today, thousands of droid starfighters were fighting against the Republic navy under the command of Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, who darted across the battlefield in Eta-2 actis interceptors. Cato Neimoidia was as close to Coruscant as Obi Wan and Anakin had been in almost four standard months, and with the last remaining Separatist strongholds now cleared from the Core and Colonies, they expected to be back in the Outer Rim by week's end.
The outer rim sieges were in full effect.
"Masters Kenobi and Skywalker," Anakin heard from his comm set. Angling his starfighters under the hull of an Acclamator class assault ship, he recognized it as the voice of Plo Koon. "The Viceroy Gunray and his entourage are heading for the launching bays. We're being set back by enemy reinforcements and may not be able to intercept him. If he escapes, we'll need to prevent him from entering hyperspace."
Anakin replied before Obi Wan had the chance to register what was being said. His own starfighter swung towards Anakin's as the pair trailed a group of Hyena droid bombers.
"Copy that, Master Plo. We'll be ready to engage." Anakin spoke over his comlink.
"We have gunships heading toward your location. We'll be able to storm the fortress once the sky is ours" Obi Wan chimed in. A pair of vulture droids flew dangerously close to Obi Wan before republic fighters blasted them into superheated balls of gas. "Assuming, we get that far."
"Very well. I'll divide my troops and try to sweep the compound." Plo Koon answered before the link was terminated. The two Jedi bore down on the bombers before they could recognize they were being chased.
"I suppose one of us needs to distract the droids" Anakin teased.
"One of us," Obi-Wan repeated, clipping a bomber that tried to duck into the fog. "Haven't we been through this before?"
"The beauty of our partnership, Master. You lure the starfighters away, I get close to the landing pad, destroy Gunray's ship and we toast to his defeat. It hasn't failed us yet, has it?"
"We had Gunray in our grasp years ago and he still got away. What makes you think that this time will be any different?" Obi Wan pointed out.
"Because this time, we don't have Ventress to worry about" Anakin grinned. "Besides, Gunray was protected by Luminara and-."
Ahsoka, Anakin stopped himself. It happened again. So fast, barely thinking about where his thoughts were headed. Vulture droids coated in bronze paint aimed themselves at the gunship. Carbon scorches singed the outer hulls of the transports and one gunship lost its engines. In that split second, Anakin watched the gunship sink into the foggy abyss as he thought of the loss of his apprentice. He almost wished that she was dead; he'd no longer have to worry where she was, what she was doing, who she was fighting. Obi Wan might have told him that he couldn't hold responsibility for her desertion of the Jedi order, but he knew otherwise. He could have done something. Anything.
Instead, she was gone.
Anakin scowled, flying dangerously close to the vulture droids. Plasma bolts blasted through the droid starfighters before they could destroy, or collide, with the gunships. "If you don't like my plan, just say so" he said to Obi Wan with a tone that was a bit too aggressive. "I'll be the bait this time and you destroy the landing pad."
"That makes no sense," Obi-Wan said quickly. "We need that pad for our gunships, assuming they can even land. We'll just play to our separate strengths. You're right, Anakin, we won't lose him today."
Anakin couldn't restrain a smile, a smile that managed to help him clear unpleasant thoughts, as he banked his starfighter into a roll that allowed him to lock onto the last fleeing bomber. With the pressing of his fingers it exploded into condensed smoke. "I knew you'd listen to reason, Master."
Shifting his frequency ever so slightly, Anakin singled out four ARC-170s that were diving from a nearby Venator. "You four, follow my lead."
"Understood, Red 5!" they said acknowledgement. Obi-Wan pulled away from the gunships with his own units as Anakin flew in tight escort of the LAATs with his entourage of clone fighters. Obi-Wan was just returning to protect an Acclamator that was being targeted by a new squadron of bombers when he signaled his former padawan.
"Anakin, I know we've got a score to settle with Gunray, but don't make it personal. We want to take him alive!"
Anakin wasn't able to entirely discern if Obi Wan was saying what needed to be said, or if he sensed the turmoil on Anakin's mind and knew that the "Hero with no Fear" needed to be reminded of their priorities. "Right, Obi Wan."
Switching off the com link, Anakin took point and led the descent into the fog coated depths of the capital. "But this is personal, Anakin finished.
It was personal because of what Nute Gunray had done to Naboo thirteen years ago. It was personal because of Gunray's hiring of Jango Fett to assassinate Padme three years ago-first with a bomb planted on her ship, then with the pair of kouhuns a changling had inserted into Padme's Senatorial quarters on Coruscant.
The woman Anakin loved above all else. His wife. The deepest though brightest of his secrets. Even Obi-Wan didn't know, for that would have created problems.
Finally, it was personal because of all that had occurred on Geonosis: the mock trial, the sentencing, the executions that were to have taken place in the arena…Even if he could put all that aside, as Obi-Wan plainly wanted him to do, it was personal because Gunray had aligned himself with Dooku and the Separatists, and the war they had planned from the start had brought ruin to a thousand worlds. Ahsoka risked her life trying to escort him to imprisonment because Gunray's capture was followed by Ventress' arrival. The dark assassin that Anakin defeated on Yavin IV at the onset of the war faced off against his own apprentice and managed to free Gunray.
Back when she was his apprentice.
The deaths of the Separatist leaders was the only solution now. It had always been the solution, despite objections by certain members of the Jedi Council, who still believed in peaceful resolutions. If even for a moment, the council legitimized the death of Dooku, why not extend that belief to other leaders of the Confederacy. Obi Wan didn't have to worry about sparing Darth Maul after all? And even death didn't manage to defeat Maul forever, so perhaps even that wasn't enough. Perhaps there were some who had to be killed and some who didn't.
Of course, it turned out that this planned assassination of Dooku was deemed too extreme. In private solitude, Anakin secretly saw the advantages, advantages that perhaps other Jedi didn't recognize or want to recognize. But some people did.
The council wanted to uphold tradition, despite the Senate's attempts to bind the hands of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, so that corrupt politicians could continue to turn a profit. Line the pockets of their shimmersilk cloaks with kickbacks from the immoral corporations that funded the war machine. Supplying both sides with weapons, ships, whatever was needed to extend the conflict.
It made Anakin's blood boil.
Yes, just as Yoda had sensed after Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan had freed him from slavery on Tatooine and brought him to the Jedi Temple, he had a lot of anger in him. But what Yoda failed to realize was that anger could be a kind of fuel. In peaceful times Anakin might have been able to bridle his rage, but now he relied on it to drive him forward, to transform him into the person he needed to be.
Cut off the head.
So many opportunities were made where he would have been able to kill Dooku himself had forces outside his control not interfered. He could end the war!
Sensing these dark thoughts, Anakin shook his head. He still had a battle to win. His drifting thoughts caused him to veer straight while the gunships dipped below. The ARC-170s may have flown with synchronized precision, but Anakin could sense the confusion ringing through their minds. Barking quick orders to stay with the gunships, he mumbled something about looking for starfighters.
Despite all the politics, Anakin didn't hold these "disagreements" against his former Master. For all his experience, Anakin still knew when to listen to his former Master and looked to him for guidance.
On occasion.
He didn't listen to Obi Wan on Geonosis and it cost him an arm, literally. He has since learned to recognize when his master spoke wisdom that Anakin needed to listen to and wisdom that Anakin should listen to. The Jedi knight was still devoted to Obi Wan.
They had become, brothers.
Far below, Quinlan Vos, accompanied by several troopers of the Wolfpack were entering the ruined grotto. Plo Koon had taken Wolfe and the remaining squad mates, including the wounded trooper Comet, into a nearby turbolift just moments earlier. Vos would intercept Gunray before his shuttle took off. Anakin's support was only a back up plan after all. Plo Koon meanwhile was tasked with securing the fortress itself, if that were at all possible. If the operation went smoothly, Vos would have the viceroy in his grasp. He could then be questioned.
No, interrogated, Vos reminded himself. The viceroy surely had secrets worth protecting. Ventress hinted at it, albeit subtly, that there were powerful forces that they were working against. Forces that wouldn't hesitate to silence anyone that stood in their way, including Ventress herself.
The tip of his boot sent some object skittering across the floor. On the fly he used the Force to call the thing to his left hand and realized that it was a rebreather, which must have fallen from its utility pouch during the brief exchange with the unseen battle droids. But no matter; Vos would take the sergeant's advice and keep a close eye on his wherabouts. As for Plo Koon, surely his mask would protect him from such threats and he was probably already in the lower levels of the redoubt, where there would be little risk of encountering spores.
Opening one of the pouches on his belt, Vos wedged the rebreather inside. He urged the troopers on, and they stayed close on his heels.
Upward: following burrows, ramps, and shafts used only by droids. Through processing and shipment areas, through hatcheries filled with squealing grubs. Upward: into the citadel's gleaming middle levels. Through rooms large as starship docking bays filled floor to ceiling with… various possessions. A boundless collection of junk, ritual gifts, impulsive purchases. Thousands of faddish devices never to be used but too prized as possessions to be thrown out, donated, handed down, or destroyed. More technology than existed on entire worlds, hoarded, stacked, piled about, crammed into every available space.
Vos could reach out with the force and examine the artifacts close hand. Bringing his hand onto a jade statue that displayed expert craftsmanship, memories echoed into his mind. This was Vos' gift, and it helped him track down quarries and individuals of interest on missions. It also functions as a gateway into the past. Vos saw for the briefest moment a vibrant palace with ornate windows and marble floors. Recognizing it as Naboo, he saw that the statue was once crafted in service of a monarch. The memories faded and Vos returned ot the present, shaking his head in wonder.
His grin was short-lived. The viceroy's personal collection demonstrated unbridled hubris. This was evidence enough to show that the Trade Federation cared only for one motivation: acquiring wealth. It didn't matter how that wealth was acquired, as long as it continued to expand. Vos' face displayed repulsion and disgust for this hoarded collection. A Jedi does not care for possessions. They are devoted to service, a principle that the viceroy apparently has no respect for.
Upward: until they reached the citadel 's semicircular projection of launching bays, which overlooked the surrounding lake and a ridge of forested mountains.
Vos brought his team to a halt. One of the clones held up his hand, palm outward, then tapped the side of his helmet to indicate an incoming transmission. The clone listened, then spoke to Vos with hand signals.
Roughly translated, "Gunray is close."
"General, they're testing escape vectors for the shuttle by lowering the defensive shield and launching decoys," the clone, Sinker, said quietly. "Turbolaser fire has allowed several of the decoys to get past our blockade and reach orbiting core ships."
The muscles in Vos's jaw bunched. Gunray was about to escape from their grasp. Not this time. This time the viceroy was going to get his comeuppance. "Then we have to act quickly."
No one contested when Vos held point position. The clones accepted without question that body armor and imaging systems were primitive compared to the power of the Force. They moved vigilantly through a maze of elegant corridors, abandoned in a rush, strewn with belongings dropped during flight.
Approaching an intersection, Vos made a halting gesture with his left hand. He listened for a moment; heard from around the corner the telltale heavy footfalls of super battle droids. Sinker nodded in confirmation, then extended a finger-thin holocam around the corner and activated his gauntlet holoprojector. Noisy images of Nute Gunray and his entourage of elite officers formed in midair. Hurrying down the corridor, tall headpieces bobbing, rich robes unflattened, safeguarded front and rear by burly battle droids.
Vos motioned for silence, and was just about to step into the intersecting corridor when a banged-up silver protocol droid appeared from across the hall, raising its hands in delighted surprise.
"Welcome, sirs!" it said loudly. "I can't tell you how good it is to find guests in the palace! I am TeeCee-Sixteen and I am at your service. Nearly everyone has left-because of the invasion, of course-but I'm sure that we can make you comfortable, and that Viceroy Gunray will be most pleased-"
One of the clones yanked the protocol droid aside, hand clamped over its mouth, but it was too late. Vos leaped around the corner in time to see the Neimoidians set off at a run, red-eyed, flatnosed Gunray casting a nervous glance over his shoulder.
As for the super battle droids, they had veered directions sharply and were marching stiff-legged in Vos' direction. Catching sight of him, their right arms elevated, twisted downward, locked into firing position. And the corridor began to fill with blaster bolts. By the time the clones began to return fire, Gunray had disappeared from sight.
Qui-Gon Jinn hadn't believed in baiting, Obi-Wan thought as he dove away from Vulture droids that trailed his engines. Baiting implied a certain amount of advance planning, and Qui-Gon had no patience for that. He took situations as they came, throwing back his shoulders and striding boldly to the center of things, relying as much on his instincts as his lightsaber to deal with the consequences. It must have been difficult for him to have served under a methodical master such as Dooku, consummate planner, consummate duelist.
Now a Sith.
But that made sense, of a sort.
The desire to dominate and control.
For a time the same issues had stood at the center of Obi-Wan's conflicts with Anakin. Clearly Anakin was as strong in the Force as any Jedi who had ever sat on the Council. But as Obi-Wan had told him time and again, the essence of being a Jedi didn't hinge on attaining mastery of the Force, but on attaining mastery over oneself. Someday Anakin would come to accept that, and then he would be truly unstoppable. Qui-Gon had had the insight to recognize it more than a decade earlier, and Obi-Wan felt duty-bound to his former Master to help Anakin fulfill his destiny.
His faith in Anakin had grown so strong that he had become Anakin's staunchest defender to those on the Jedi Council who had grown apprehensive about the young man's prowess, and uncomfortable with his confidential, almost familial relationship with Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. If Obi-Wan was, as Anakin sometimes said, the father he never had, then Palpatine was his wise uncle, adviser, mentor in the ways of life outside the Temple.
Obi-Wan understood that Anakin envied him for having been appointed to the Council. But how could he not, having been all but anointed "the Chosen One," continually bolstered by Palpatine's praise, be driven to prove to his former Master that he could be the perfect Jedi Knight. On countless occasions Anakin's bold actions had allowed them to prevail against seemingly impossible odds. But just as often it had been Obi-Wan's circumspection that had pulled them back from the brink. Whether foresight was something innate in Obi-Wan or the result of his continuing fascination with the unifying Force-the long view-Obi-Wan couldn't say . What he could say was that he had learned to trust Anakin's instincts.
On occasion.
He wouldn't have been able to go on playing the bait, otherwise.
Turning towards a Venator class destroyer, Obi Wan tucked his starfighter below the hull of the red trimmed capital ship. Vulture droids that flew too close were disintegrated by turbolaser cannons angled towards a Munificent class frigate flying below. For time time being, Obi Wan was almost enjoying himself.
Almost. Though Anakin's almost enthusiastic praise for it rubbed off at time, flying was never Obi Wan's specialty. Yet another reminder of how things have changed.
"The next stop is ours, General,"Wolfe spoke to Plo Koon. The esteemed Jedi was tidying himself as the turbolift approached the lower floors. Holding his deactivated lightsaber, Plo Koon watched Wolfe slam a new blasterpack into his DC-15 and heard the familiar whine of the weapon's repower mechanism.
Reflexively, he placed his thumb on the lightsaber's activator button, reminding himself that they had no yet encountered any enemies. The war was starting to make Jedi across the galaxy prone to sensitivity. They had become so habituated to the sounds of combat that many if not all had forgotten the routine of peacetime. Quick to the trigger, as they saying goes.
"How do you want to handle this, sir?"
"You're the master of combat expertise, Commander Wolfe" Plo Koon remarked collected resolve. "I'll follow your lead."
Wolfe nodded, perhaps grinning beneath his helmet. "Well, sir, our mandate is a simple one: Kill as many of clankers we come across. Do what needs to be done."
Plo Koon recalled a discussion he had had on Coruscant, a discussion that he felt happened ages ago. Back when the Jedi were tasked with tracking down none other than Ahsoka Tano. It was a moment that marked the sharp contrast between the Jedi and the clones they fought with. The vast majority of clone troopers did not pause to consider possible repercussions of their actions. Isolated incidents existed, of course, but they were the exception as opposed to the norm. They executed their orders to the best of their abilities; it was, according to Obi Wan Kenobi's initial report, what the Kaminoans had promised. Totally obedient soldiers.
In contrast, even the most forceful Jedi knew moments of doubt. Qui-Gon Jinn had always criticized the Council for being too authoritative, and for cultivating inflexible methods of teaching. He saw the Temple as a place where candidates were programmed to become Jedi, instead of a place where beings were allowed to grow into Jedihood. Qui-Gon was no stranger to what the Jedi referred to as "aggressive negotiations," which typically involved lightsabers more than diplomacy.
Plo Koon was not the only Jedi who wondered what he and other past Jedi would have had to say about the war. Would Jedi like Qui Gon Jinn have joined the Republic's desire to maintain peace and stability or would he have sympathized with the separatists. That would have meant sympathizing with the agents of the dark side, implying a level of credibility to their actions.
Once more, when Ahsoka was being tried as a traitor to the Republic it was Mace Windu who spoke about doing what needs to be done. Plo Koon had expressed how he did not believe Ahsoka could have fallen so far so quickly and yet he allowed the council's judgement of her to pass, which led to her escape and eventually her rejection of the Jedi order. Plo Koon had done his best to let this pass out of his life, as a Jedi must do, but the experience challenged everything he held true.
Ahsoka was a friend, practically a daughter that he helped raise. If Skywalker didn't take her up as an apprentice, he most likely would have mastered her himself. Would that have prevented her from leaving the order? Plo Koon had since reconciled that it was up to the will of the force and that it was a moment to learn. It was a moment to reflect on one's consequences. In the depths of his heart, Plo Koon hoped the best for Ahsoka. That if nothing else, she would find her way and use the teachings that others passed onto her to become better and stronger.
Even more, there was the discovery of Sifo Dyas' ship, and once more the judgement of the council was questioned. Should they have allowed an army to be constructed openly, with Jedi overseeing the development of such a military force. Could it have prevented the Clone Wars from happening at all. They then found evidence of Tyrannus being linked to Sifo Dyas which added doubt over the usage of a clone army. By now it was too late to retract the usage of such a force. The Jedi knights and the extreme majority of worlds needed the clones to withstand the separatists.
Doubt was becoming stronger with the war's passing. The skies were darkening around the Republic and Plo Koon knew it.
It was simply a matter of what was going to happen next.
As soon as the turbolift came to rest, two clones tossed concussion grenades into the corridor beyond. Right and left, battle droids were blown against the walls and ceiling. Plo Koon knew, because the corridor quickly became a torrent of blaster bolts. He, Wolfe and the others threw themselves into the horizontal hail. Repeating blasters roared to life. Staccato bursts made short work of the droids, but reinforcements were already appearing. Two clones, one of which was the medspec who helped Comet, fell to fire while Plo Koon's team was making its way down the corridor in the direction of the citadel 's packing and shipping rooms. Halfway there, they encountered the contingent of super battle droids the Neimoidians had sent to root out the infiltrators.
Comparing the spindly infantry droid to the black-bodied super battle droid was like comparing a Muun to a champion shock-ball player. Quick decapitations weren't possible because the droid's head was all but buried in and fused to its broad torso. Heavy-gauge armor protected long arms and legs. Monogrip hands were
protected long arms and legs. Monogrip hands were suited only for gripping and firing high-energy dispersal blasters.
"Looks like they've taken the bait, General!" Wolfe said while he, Plo Koon, Comet and Boost fought their way into a side room.
"We're nearly there, men! We must survive just a bit longer!"
"You hanging on, Comet?" Boost asked, firing into the group of approaching battle droids.
"Never better!" the clone shouted back. "Eat laser, clankers!"
Wolfe pointed to the entrance to a second room, opposite their present position. "Through there, General Plo" he said. "A second bank of turbo-lifts is on the far side." He tapped Plo Koon on the shoulder. "You first, sir. We'll provide cover. Go!"
Plo Koon shot for the room, deflecting bolts and mangling two super battle droids that stood in his way . The room beyond was stacked with coffin-sized repulsorlift shipping containers, constructed of some lightweight alloy. Treaded labor droids were moving additional containers into the room from an adjacent packaging area. Without warning, a battle droid appeared in the entrance. Plo Koon glanced at the wallmounted mechanism that operated the sliding doors. Adopting a defensive stance, he did just as he had done in the grotto, returning the first of the droid's blaster bolts, and sending the second caroming around the room in a path calculated to disable the door apparatus.
Things might have gone as planned had a labor droid not entered the room at an inopportune moment, guiding a levitated shipping container behind him. Ricocheting from the floor, the deflected bolt passed completely through the container before it struck the door mechanism. The pair of sliding doors attempted to close, but the crippled container was now in the way, so they began to cycle through attempts to slam the doors shut…
Each time they opened, a battle droid would squeeze into the room, firing away, forcing Plo Koon back toward the entryway through which he had originally come, where a brutal firefight was still raging between clones and super battle droids.
While all this was occurring, something else was afoot. Strands of some gauzy white substance were beginning to drift from the holed shipping container. Plo Koon realized instantly what the substance was. Fortunately his breathing mask was filtering out the substance. He was returning to a battle stance when he saw one of the clones fall to blaster fire. Boost had stood up from cover and managed to hurl a pouch filled with concussion grenades, droid poppers as they were called. Unfortunately, the move exposed himself and a wrist rocket collided with his armor, killing him almost instantly.
"Boost!" Comet called out in vain.
Plo Koon had no opportunity to mourn. In this brief moment of concern, a battle droid landed an unlucky shot at his head. The laser bolt only grazed his breathing mask, but it was more than enough to dislodge it. The mask went spinning across the hallway out of range. Diverting all his attention to blocking blaster bolts, he felt a distinct feeling of dizziness start to settle in.
This complicates things, he thought grimly.