Chapter 1

Roughly Two Galactic Years Later


Dressed in black leather and gold, Darts D'Nar of Zygerria stared down at the colony from his position inside the topmost room of the now-former governor's graceful tower.

Once home to fifty thousand Togrutian artisans, the Kiros colony now stood empty of its people. Instead, it now housed the mechanical automatons and war machines of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

DNar's lips twisted on his lightly furred and feline-like face. Ten local days had passed since this world's pitiful Togruta colonists has been claimed and shipped to Zygerria for the great auction. All the while, he'd waited here, ready to spring his trap on the Republic and their Jedi filth when they came to investigate.

Long ago, Zygerria been the beating heart of a massive Empire that had supplied slave labor to the galaxy. For thousands of years, his people had prospered, growing ever richer, ever stronger. As was their right.

Then the hated Jedi had come and ended it all.

If all went as he planned, this world would see the beginning of the long over-do payback for his people...when that time came. He was finding it ever harder to remain patient after so many days. And patience was a practice he'd never been all that good at.

But soon. Soon the waiting would be over.

Zygeria would become great again, reclaiming its rightful place in the galaxy as a slaving Empire, as of old. And soon he would be able to make the Jedi pay for their arrogance. He would enjoy breaking them and presenting them before his Queen in chains.

It was only right after all. The weak deserve nothing more than to kneel before the strong, bound in the service of Zygerria, her children, and their paying customers.

It was then that D'Nar's rather pleasant imaginings were brought to a sudden halt.

"Sir, I calculate we have a situation."

Whirling around, D'Nar's golden eyes came to rest on the boxy form of TX-1861, who'd accompanied himself and Count Dooku to this world all those days ago. The cream and black colored T-series tactical droid was seated at the governor's desk, it's red photoreceptors focused on the various sensor displays built into the piece of furniture.

"What is it?" D'Nar's voice was accented, as was typical of Zygerrians. He didn't bother to hide his irritation from the droid. It was an inferior being after all.

"The colony's sensors have detected two ships dropping out of hyperspace."

"The Jedi?" D'Nar asked, almost hurrying over towards the desk, his sour mood vanishing at the prospect.

"That is improbable. The ships do not match any configuration in my database. However, each is the size of Munificent-class star frigate." The droid glanced back down at the instruments, continued, "They nearly over the colony as we speak."

"You had better be right!"

"I am a droid. I am always right." TX-1861 stated to D'Nar's face with mechanical dispassion.

D'Nar swore viciously. The colony lacked any sort of defensive shielding, much less weaponry. He could only hope that these newcomers were going to land. "Alert our forces for battle and contact Count Dooku!"

"I cannot, all long-range communications have been jammed." Informed the Tactical Droid, somehow managing to inject a trace of worry its emotionless voice.

It was then that Darts D'Nar became aware of a strong tingling sensation across his body. The Zygerian commander just had time to look confused when he and TX-1861 teleported from the room in twin shimmers of blue light. Leaving only two objects to clatter to the floor.

The first was the bomb Darts D'Nar had discreetly planted on the TX-1861's back as a deadly surprise of last resort for the Jedi. The other was the Zygerian's energy whip, which had hung at his waist since he was an adolescent.

These had just hit the ground when a spear of sea-green energy stabbed down from the sky. Aimed by cold, dispassionate minds, this first shot destroyed the gold and cream-colored governor's tower. Vaporizing the central computer core of the colony, alongside the various caged creatures D'Nar had intended to bring back to Zygerria to sell as exotic pets.

Before the remains of the tower had hit the ground, however, the focus of the orbital bombardment had already shifted to the land surrounding the colony.

Now more lances of fire started to rain down. The bombardment had been carefully calculated to cut off any means of escape by forming a crescent of ruination that shrank inwards with each volley.

The moat of water around the colony hissed and boiled with steam. Each blast sent debris, soil, Separatist tanks, and shattered battledroids screaming skywards before crashing back to the ground. With the latter of which often being quite literal. Whole houses were annihilated in an instant, leaving behind only smoldering, glass-coated craters.

However, before more than three-quarters of the colony had been destroyed, the firing abruptly stopped.

The ship's masters had detected intruders were approaching.

-SW-

With a flicker of pseudo-motion the arrow-head shaped forms of the small Galactic Republic Navy task force emerged from hyperspace above the cloudy green orb of the planet Kiros.

Consisting of a single Venator-class Star Destroyer at it's core, along with an Acclimator-class assault ship and two Arquintins light cruisers in a protective forward screen, it was nothing to sneeze at. But it was also the most the Republic could scrape together and spare to on such short notice with their struggle to push back the droid forces of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

Aboard the bridge of the Star Destroyer Negotiator, Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi glanced away from the Venator's large forward-facing viewports at the voice of one of his officers. Besides him, his former padawan, now Jedi Knight and General, Anakin Skywalker shifted uneasily on his feet. Both wore their customary Jedi robes; Obi-Wan in tan, Anakin in dark brown and black leather.

"All clear sir, no sign of any Separatist craft in the system. Picking up some sort of disturbance on sensors, trying to clear it up." Informed an officer from the crew pit. Like most of the Republic Army and Starfleet, he was a clone of the now-deceased Bounty Hunter Jango Fett.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the last piece of information, but merely said, "Thank you, Lieutenant Walker."

While the clones might have been physically identical, their personalities and how they felt in the Force were anything but.

"It's been ten rotations since Master Yoda's message. I just hope we're here in time." Anakin commented to Obi-Wan.

"So am I." He frowned, thoughtful. "Odd that the Separatists would not have started blocking that transmission when they arrived in-system."

Before Obi-Wan could pursue that line of thought further, or Anakin could reply, they were interrupted.

"Sir, I'm getting readings from the surface that the colony has been hit hard and- General! Tracking two ships over the planet, unknown type. They are leaving orbit in sector 6 by 26!"

Stepping closer to the window and peering in that direction, Obi-Wan felt a grave expression settle over his face.

A pair of ships were swinging out from Kiros and if the brightness of their drives were anything to go on, burning hard for space. Each was a hexagon-shaped saucers, their sides a dull metallic silver. Using the Force to enhance his vision for the vast distance between ships, he could see their surface was studded with weapon mounts and hatches for missile tubes.

"Raise shields, move us to intercept them, and broadcast a message asking them to identify themselves and what they were doing here." He commanded.

There was a chance that whoever was on those ships had just stumbled across the colony by accident and had nothing to do with the destruction. But there was no sense in not being prepared.

"And prep fighters for launch!" Anakin added, clearly on the same train of thought as Obi-Wan but quicker on the trigger.

Several 'yes sir!'s followed as the clone officers began relaying commands and carrying out orders.

The Jedi Master choose that moment to reach out with the Force towards the unknown ships, trying to sense their inhabitants and their nature. They were within what he could sense, in the dark and lifeless vacuum of space. And yet, he could barely sense anything in the Force.

What he could sense was...strange. There was no other word for it. They didn't feel like droids or any species he'd encountered before.

In the background, he could hear Anakin's apprentice, Ahsoka Tano, talking to him over a personal comlink, asking what was going on, being told 'trouble' and being instructed to take command of one of the Negotiator's fighter squadrons.

Pulling his focus back, Obi-Wan turned towards the Star Destroyer's communication officer in the crew-pit. "Any response?"

The officer shook his head. "Nothing sir. I've sent it twice and there's nothing but static."

Obi-Wan almost sighed. So much for that approach. And from the look of things, the two ships were almost out of the gravity well of Kiros and able to make the jump to lightspeed.

He turned to another officer. "Launch fighters and prepare to fire a shot across their bow."

"Aye, aye General. Launching fighters now."

Beneath Obi-Wan's feet, he could feel the faint rumbling of the Negotiator's massive dorsal hanger cranking open as the ship began its turn to port. From the bridge, he could see several of the new Z-95 Headhunters beginning to form up behind the shape of Ahsoka's dark red Jedi interceptor.

At that moment, Obi-Wan felt a whispered warning through the Force.

Outside, the guns of the unknown ships swiveled to face the oncoming Republic task force, spitting out bolts of blue-green energy. Launch tubes swung open to discharge missiles, which roared towards their targets.

"Full power to forward shields, return fire!" Obi-Wan ordered.

"Well, this just got interesting," Anakin commented with relish to no one in particular as the Venator began shuddering under the impacts of weapons fire.

-SW-

As the Headhunters and Ahsoka flew in interception formation around the Negotiator, the Republic ships opened up. Soon the darkness of space between the opposing forces was lit up by weapons fire, proton torpedoes and missiles in a dazzling display of firepower. With the fighter command of the Negotiator setting the Headhunter squadron to work alongside the ship's point defense turrets to take down closing missiles and keep them away from arcing down into the vulnerable dorsal hanger in particular while the Venator began launching more of its complement of fighters. The Acclamator and Arquintins by contrast were forced to rely more on their light laser cannons to fend off the missiles. It was a task that the Republic found more difficult then usual; their targets being quicker and more nimble than they were used to.

However, any plans to send out the massing fighter squadrons on attacks on the silver ships were quickly scuttled. As Republic commanders could only watch in shock at what happened to the concussion missiles and proton torpedoes racing towards the unknown vessels. Tricked by electronic warfare and decoys, many of the weapons veered off course. With the unaffected ones being shot down with almost contemptuous ease by their target's defense systems at a surprising distance in but moments.

Not one got though to hit the ship, and it was soon judged that any non-Force sensitive pilots would almost certainly find themselves facing only slightly better odds against the silver ships' defensive weapons. Therefore, those squadrons already launched spread out to help fend off incoming missiles among the rest of the fleet. The rest remained on board as the Venator's main hanger was shut.

However, that didn't stop the unknown ships' other weapons in the slightest. Here too, the Republic fleet was finding itself on the end of an unpleasant surprise. The reason, still as of yet unknown to the Republic forces, was a simple one. While their weapons might have been aided by computerized magnification devices and fire control systems, they were still directed by flesh and blood reflexes. Their adversaries, however, were much more augmented thanks to cybernetics and computer processing algorithms. Machinery that was, in many ways, above what either the Republic or the Confederacy could create.

The upshot of which was that nearly every shot fired went exactly where it was supposed to. Likewise, almost every move made by Republic ships, projectiles, and weaponry were noticed, calculated, and reacted to with the kind of speed that computers were capable of.

On one of the Arquintins, the incoming fire was too much. Its shields failed, which was soon followed by parts of its hull as blue-green energy ate and boiled through metal. Incoming missiles, their onboard sensors noting the lack of shields, switched from proximity to direct flights. Micro-seconds later, they slammed into the hull, the explosions shredding armored hull plates. Blast doors slammed shut, even as clone crew-members were plucked off their feet and hurled into the void by howling wind as it vented into space. While others, further away from the immediate breaches but still trapped, beat weakening hands against sealed doors while their skin turned blue from lack of air and cold in their dying moments.

Even as the Arquintins in question broke formation to escape bombardment, the two silver ships shifted the majority of their firepower to batter the Acclimator-class, which had already suffered damage.

Still, unknown vessels were not having the fight all in their favor. As the superior numbers of the Republic task force were not without consequence or effect. Despite their maneuvers and excellent point defense systems, the silver ships were taking damage. Their once pristine silver hulls, made of alloys tougher than durasteel, were becoming pockmarked with black carbon scoring and fiery rents as their shield withered. Guns were silenced, taken out by direct hits. After all, for all their toughness, these ships had been designed more as vessels to support the larger warships in battle.

Perhaps with a little more time, the Republic vessels would have disabled or destroyed the other vessels. But it was not to be. With a flicker of pseudo-motion, the pair of strange saucer-shaped craft leaped into hyperspace.

The whole battle had only lasted minutes.


Author's Note:

Well, that took far, far longer than I wanted it to. Part of that being Disney's fault. Still, you all have my deepest apologies for the delay and I hope you can forgive me. To everyone who left a comment or favorited this story, I that you for your patience.

Also, I hope that I got Obi-Wan and Anakin's personalities down right and I didn't make the bridge scene Star Trek-like by accident. Likewise, this was my first real attempt at a space battle, so I hope the fight came out well. I did consider doing it from Ahsoka's point of view, but I couldn't get it to really work.

As a last, but certainly not least, a final note. While this is still set in the Disney continuity, I've decided to write this with some inspiration from works of the original Clone Wars multimedia project. Basically, I'm sort of going for the idea that the show we saw wasn't entirely historically accurate when it came to certain points. Also because when it comes to the likes of Grievous and Dooku, I prefer their more complex and capable characterizations from pre-TCW works.

Comments, questions, and remarks are welcomed and motivate me to write more!