The Two Jedi

by Fanofallthethings

A pair of Jedi's journey through the Clone Wars and beyond. Written by Fanofallthethings and a friend of mine, who doesn't have an FF account. Please review!

4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Begun, The Clone Wars Have

Theron awoke to a world of pain. Every fiber, every cell, every square shabla centimeter of his body hurt. The last thing he remembered was the burning, fiery, horrible sensation of lightning born from the Force devouring him, until finally it stopped thanks to… Master Torin. Theron's head spun in a dozen different directions at once, years of Jedi training allowing him to mentally reduce the pain to a manageable level. The rest of his mind was occupied reliving the remainder of the fight, what he had managed to see through his pain-blurred, lightning-damaged eyes. Master Torin attacking the former Jedi Master in an attempt to save his Padawan, the lightning being turned against him, and finally the crimson blade burning a horrible gash across his chest and abdomen.

Theron tried to sit up, the movement sudden, but something held him down, a flash of blinding pain radiating from a spot on his chest where he could feel pressure beyond the pain. "Theron, I need you to not try to move," someone said, the voice familiar, recently familiar, though he couldn't identify it through the shock to his system. "You're in the medbay on the Unshaken, alright? About eighty percent of your body is burned from the lightning, and your eyes are pretty badly damaged. You've already been through a round of bacta, but they pulled you out so someone can talk to you."

The pressure on his chest, which had receded after the initial contact and stopped causing him pain, disappeared entirely, right before he felt the sensation of movement. He must be lying on a repulsor bed, considering how smoothly it moved across the medbay deck. A moment later, he drifted to a stop, and he heard someone nearby slowly shuffle over, their steps weak and faltering.

"Theron, my not-so-young apprentice," another voice said, this one as familiar as Theron's own and instantly recognizable. Master Torin was alive, and Theron felt a wave of relief wash over him, quickly dashed by his Master's next words. "My wound is too great to be healed, Theron," Torin continued, and now that Theron listened he could hear the weakness in his Master's voice, the slight gasping of pain as he moved. If he remembered the wound the older man had taken correctly, Theron didn't know how he was even upright. "It will not be long before I become one with the Force. But before I do, you deserve what I have asked to be given to you to come from me."

Theron's near-sightless eyes registered a sudden darkening of the space, and the equally sudden appearance of multiple light sources around the edges. A pair of green glows, one pointed up and the other down, appeared to his left. On the other, a blue, and directly in front of him, nearly on top of him, a yellow light. Theron's breath hitched as he realized what was happening, the labored breathing caused by internal damage wreaked by the lightning growing even more strained.

An accented voice by the blue lightsaber spoke softly. "It is customary to have at least one member of the High Council present to perform the ceremony, but Masters Windu and Yoda have agreed to make an exception in this case. Master Torin, you may proceed."

The yellow saber lowered to one of Theron's shoulders. "By the right of the Council," the saber moved to the other shoulder, "By the Will of the Force," and the lightsaber flicked up, severing his Padawan braid, "I dub thee Jedi, Knight of the Republic." The saber's blade blinked out, along with the other three blades in the room as the lights came back up. "You have done well, my former apprentice." Theron could hear the smile in his voice, and then could hear as his master suddenly stumbled.

"Knight Kiro, if you would help Master Torin back to his bed," the accented voice came. Theron heard Torin rasp something out from across the room, and Erajinn respond quietly. Any other time, Theron would have sharpened his hearing to find out what was said, but the pain was coming back, and in greater numbers. "Rest, young Knight," the voice continued. "You will need your strength to recover. And we will need Knights like you. This war has only begun, and we have experienced grievous loss. This war will only bring more death and pain to the galaxy entire."

"Master Kenobi," Erajinn spoke softly, trying not to keep Theron awake. "Master Torin wanted him to have this." Something was handed between the two of them.

"I'll make sure he gets it," Kenobi responded. "Go get your leg seen to. I'll watch them until the time comes."

Theron heard footsteps leave the room, and then scraping as a chair was dragged to sit somewhere between himself and his former Master. It was the last thing he registered before he sunk back into unconsciousness.

When he awoke, his Master was dead.

-Upper Atmosphere of Christophsis, 4 months after the Battle of Geonosis-

Death. Death and Suffering. It permeated and enveloped the galaxy like a thick blanket. In the physical sense, any ordinary person could tell you that the galaxy was in for quite a ride with the onset of the recent conflicts between the newly formed Grand Army of the Republic and Separatist Alliance. Data splicers on various interplanetary holonets were calling it the "Clone Wars", and the name was catching on like wildfire. For a Force user, this violence was ever present, almost palpable. It populated some Jedi's every waking moment. Even in meditation, all they could find when searching for serenity was more violence.

Four months. Twelve weeks since all this mess started. Erajinn thought to himself in his personal quarters aboard the Unshaken. After the newly dubbed "Battle of Geonosis" had ended, Erajinn had taken it upon himself to escort Theron and the body of the late Master Torin back to Coruscant. One for heavy medical treatment, the other for a proper burial. He had been one of the first Jedi casualties of the Clone Wars, and was assuredly not the last. He stayed on Coruscant for two weeks after that, recuperating in his own right, whilst monitoring the condition of his new friend. Master Kenobi had expressed his willingness to make the trip back to Coruscant, but Erajinn felt duty bound to be the one to bring the two Jedi home. During his stay, his time was split between the meditation gardens and his own quarters, wherein he had constructed a complex radio transmitter and chatter scanner, similar to the one he was currently using aboard the Unshaken. He used this interface to communicate directly with the commanding officers of the 49th Ranger Regiment, who would then convey his orders and strategy to the rank and file. He also used this interface to scan interstellar holonets, backchannels that existed just beyond the reach of GAR data monitors where the scum of the galaxy did their business, and many people discussed the war. He would have stayed longer, in order to be there when Theron completely regained consciousness, and eyesight. However, he felt that he had already been away from his men for too long, so he took a shuttle back out to the Unshaken as soon as he was cleared for combat.

Due to his semi-lucid state, Erajinn had been unable to talk to Theron while on Coruscant. To substitute, Erajinn dug through the Jedi records in the Great Library, trying to learn a little bit more about the man he had helped save. Through his research, he had confirmed his suspicions that Theron had seemed more familiar than Erajinn was originally able to admit. They had actually known each other for quite some time, being in the same youngling class for several years. Theron was one of the younger in the bunch, and also one of the more boisterous. He was more than happy to kick and punch the training droids into submission rather than use his lightsaber, which along with his fiery temper and stubbornness, caused him to be ridiculed by many of his classmates. Nonetheless, Erajinn remembered the young boy as always being fiercely loyal, and a great warrior to boot. Erajinn and Theron were both apprenticed at around the same time, Theron to Master Torin, and Erajinn to Master Yoda. This was of course a very rare occasion, as Master Yoda rarely taught past the youngling stage, where every upcoming Jedi was mentored by the wise old Grandmaster at some point. Master Yoda took interest in Erajinn's aptitude for Jar'Kai, or dual wielding sabers, and took him under his wing for additional training in force concentration.

In those days, Erajinn lived for the duel. He spent nearly all his spare time sparring with training droids, other younglings, and sometimes the occasional Padawan or Knights, becoming arguably the best duelist of his class. Upon being apprenticed to Master Yoda, however, he was slowly made to curb his thrill seeking habits. His lessons focused on meditation and feeling the force, which in turn made him a better duelist. Through this tutelage, Erajinn went through training and participated in the Trials at an accelerated rate. He achieved Knighthood several months before the start of the Clone Wars. During this time, he had lost touch completely with Theron and forgot about the spry young Mandalorian, thinking he'd never see him again.

Oh, how wrong I was. Erajinn chuckled as he continued to scan through holonet channels, a favorite pastime of his. He was brought out of his reverie by a green light blinking on his wrist link. He severed his connection with the larger holonet and tapped the light on his wrist. "This is Kiro, go ahead." He spoke into the commlink.

"General, we have entered the upper atmosphere of Christophsis and are on final approach. The ground forces have successfully broken the ranks of the Separatist offensive pushing in on HQ, and have detained their commanding officer, General Whorm Loathsom." a gruff voice reported.

"Thanks for the update, Commander. I'll meet you in the hangar." Erajinn responded, standing up from his desk.

"Acknowledged General, Ragnar out." the clone said before terminating the communique.

Erajinn opened the small locker in his quarters where he kept his utility belt, which he put on along with his two lightsabers, and the clone armor he had modified with the help of some of the troopers under his command to fit over his traditional Jedi battle robes. This armor was marked with green and black highlights, mimicking the armor markings the rest of the troopers in the 49th bore. After a final check of his gear, he rushed out of his quarters and caught a lift up to the massive hangar of the Venator-Class star destroyer.

The lift doors opened, revealing a bustling scene as the troopers from the 49th Ranger Regiment made their final preparations for landfall. The standard Venator-Class Star Destroyer had a max carrying capacity of around 7,500, meaning that even with a full crew, the Unshaken still had more than enough room for Erajinn's unit of over 2,000 strong, as well as another entire unit. Because the 49th Rangers were lucky enough to be assigned to their own Destroyer, they were often stuck with ferrying other units who were not as lucky. In this case, the 28th Armored Regiment was hitching a ride to the surface in order to shore up artillery and cavalry units already planetside. The 28th was led by a massive Zabrak, who stood head and shoulders over any other lifeform on the ship, and whose XO was just as intimidating. The Zabrak Jedi and his regiment's CO approached Erajinn as he was heading to a trooper transport.

"Knight Kiro, my men are locked and loaded. All AT-TE's, LAAT/i's, and LAAT/c's are fueled and ready to go." He rumbled as his clone officer, nicknamed Commander Rend for the blood red spatter paint on his armor, tapped on a datapad.

"Outstanding, Knight Exidus," Erajinn said as the two began to walk through the hangar towards a section that held several troop transports filled with the 49th's various command staff, discussing final logistics. "Shoring up the defenses shouldn't be terribly difficult, what with the ground team destroying that advancing rayshield the Separatists were employing. Your surplus of walkers, however, will prove invaluable on my end for seizing the final Separatist outposts on the outskirts of the main city. Thanks again for the assistance.".

"Happy to help free another planet from Separatist control. Plus, my men are always itching to raise their kill counts." Exidus said, chuckling, "Well, if there's nothing more you require of me, I will see you on the surface."

"Likewise my friend, may the Force be with you." Erajinn said as the two Jedi clasped arms.

With that, Erajinn broke off from the Zabrak and jogged across the flight deck to a collection of clones around a holotable. One of the clones saw the approaching Jedi and called the others to attention. "Relax with the pleasantries gentlemen, we have work to do," Erajinn said in earnest as the clone officers all responded with a "Yes Sir!" before dropping their salutes. "Commander Ragnar, do we have all the CO's?"

"Affirmative General, all companies are Bravo Foxtrot."

Ragnar leaned in over the holotable with his face exposed, revealing the battle hardened look and sturdy features that were ubiquitous among all clones, save the longer than average hair that was swept over to the side. His helmet rested on a crate next to him. The Phase I helmet was equipped with a visor improver with boosted comm antennae and marked with black and green flames that covered the lower half of the helmet. This style was mimicked across the rest of his armor, accompanied by an extended shoulder antennae and special battle kama that marked him as a Commander. While some of the officers in commanding positions of the 49th each colored their armor in respect to the standard rank structure initially made standard in the GAR, Ragnar and a few other ARC troopers in command staff were apart of Erajinn's personal platoon, and as such, customized their armor to their tastes while paying homage to their commander with emerald-color designs. The 49th Rangers contained many special units, and as such contained troopers of varying levels of customization.

"Very well. Company Staff! Attend to your transports and make ready for landfall. Command Staff will be issuing out orders once we arrive and have taken over from the current occupying units. Comms open, eyes up! The Separatists have been pushed back, but our LZ is still hot. Am I understood?" Erajinn barked out.

"Sir yes sir!" The clones sounded off.

"Move out! And good luck troopers!"

With that, the clones scattered, each heading to their companies to relay the information and board their transports. Ragnar and Erajinn headed towards a Nu Class Attack Shuttle that was already occupied by Exidus and Commander Rend. This shuttle would launch ahead of the landing force in order to meet up with the withdrawing units. Erajinn and Ragnar jogged up the retracting dock, and the shuttle roared to life as it exited the hangar through one of the massive ray-shields and into the atmosphere of the war-ravaged planet of Christophsis.

Erajinn raised his hand to cover his adjusting eyes from the light as the retracting landing bridge opened up revealing hundreds of clones rushing to and fro, carrying crates or loading on to ships. At the base of the landing platform stood five figures, two clones, and three Jedi. The passengers of the attack shuttle disembarked, wading through the sea of white as the shuttle lifted off to return to the Destroyer.

The group of five halted their discussions as they saw Erajinn and Exidus arrive. The two clone officers, one marked with orange, the other with blue, snapped quick salutes to the arriving Jedi.

"And you must be our relief force," one of the Jedi said, his fair brown hair and dark navy battle armor covered in debris and dust.

"That we are. I am Jedi Knight Erajinn Kiro, and this is Jedi Knight Twaelyn Exidus. We command the 49th Ranger Regiment and 28th Armored Regiment respectively."

One of the other Jedi, who Erajinn recognized as Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi from their brief time together on Geonosis, turned to speak, "Knight Kiro, you I must say are a welcome sight indeed. I trust our friend from Geonosis has recovered well? You remember my padawan, Anakin Skywalker." The elder Jedi inquired, before gesturing to the younger Knight.

"I was unable to see him through full recovery, but according to reports he is back in the line of duty, thank you for asking," Erajinn responded with a courteous nod, "and I do remember. Congratulations on passing the Trials and surviving Geonosis, Knight Skywalker."

Skywalker nodded in thanks, "This is Padawan Ashoka Tano, my new apprentice." He said as the third Jedi, a young Togruta, stepped forward.

"It is very nice to meet you. I heard about you and Knight Keth a little from Master Kenobi." she said.

"How goes the counter-invasion?" Exidus asked, bringing the topic of discussion back to current events.

"Ah yes. Well, with Loathsom in Republic custody, the Separatist invasion force has been left without a leader. However, they have been slowly digging in and fortifying their last few strongholds deep in the capital. The three of us would have much prefered to see this through until it's conclusion, but the Council has reassigned us to Tatooine. Something regarding the Hutt family." Kenobi answered, stroking his beard.

"Well, we wish you luck in that affair. The Hutts can be tough to deal with, as all crime families are. I can assure you that we will have this conflict wrapped up in no time, to avoid displacing the people of Christophsis any longer." Erajinn said as the blue-marked trooper murmured something to Skywalker.

"We've held you up long enough," Anakin said as he dismissed the trooper, "We'll get out of your hair so that you can finish up here."

"Of course. Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker, it was good to see you again. A pleasure to meet you, Padawan Tano".

"Likewise, Knight Kiro. May we meet again, and may the Force be with you." the Padawan said as the trio began to depart. Once they had disappeared into the crowd of troopers, Erajinn turned back to Ragnar, Rend, and Exidus.

"Let's get to work."

Exidus and Rend split up from Erajinn, with each General having their own assignments explained and planned beforehand, no more discussion was required between the two. Erajinn decided to set up a makeshift command center in a sea of tents that still remained in between the deserted buildings of the Christophsis city, close to the rearline artillery being set up by the 28th. He had Ragnar call together several of the command staff in order to brief them on how Erajinn planned to end this conflict in a few swift, thorough strikes. Assembled in the tent around a holotable was Captain Quiln, representing the Black Racers, Sergeant Cox and Captain Ember, wing commanders for the Green Aces, several company commanders, and finally, Ragnar and his XO, Sergeant Major, and Ops Officer. These three troopers were ARCs, Alpha-75, Alpha-13, and Alpha-89, named Winx, Maz, and Orin respectively.

Each ARC was kitted out in their standard-issue battle tunic and specialized armor, though they were each customized to the distinct tastes of the troopers. Winx favored a splinter contrast design, sporting a black, white, and grey design on his tunic and armor, marked in sharp and unorthodox angles as to break up his form in combat. These were accompanied by a pair of bright green jaig eyes striking a sharp contrast with the rest of his armor print. Winx was the only one of the three ARC troopers to have earned this high Mandalorian honor, and one of the few Alpha Arc troopers to have been granted it. Maz had a more fluid design, his tunic hosting a graphic mimicking the gaping jaws and face of a Nexu, highlighted by blues and reds that traced up to his helmet, where the marks ended forming into a streak of red and blue markings. Finally, Orin's armor was uniquely covered in shimmer-camo marking so the color was constantly in flux depending on the environment around him, usually steadying at an olive drab color. His helmet was marked with several yellow scratch markings mirroring several scars on his face.

It was highly irregular and rare for one unit to possess multiple ARC troopers, if even a single one. When this logistics issue was found out, Republic High Command issued an order reassigning the three ARCs to a different unit, namely the Special Operations Brigade commanded by Jedi Master Argilian Zey where many of their Alpha-Class brothers served (they spoke highly of a 'Captain Fordo'). However, it seemed that Erajinn and Ragnar had earned the respect, or the closest thing to it, of the elite class of troopers, as they directly ignored the order and had been serving beside Ragnar and Kiro ever since. Their positions as command staff were merely formalities to keep them in positions of high operating ability.

"Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once," Erajinn said as he addressed the group of clones, "The 501st and 212th were able to halt the advance of the Separatist forces but as a result, they got spooked and dug in to their backmost defensive positions with what little forces they have left. Kenobi and Skywalker ordered a continuous bombardment of artillery on the remaining enemy encampments, but their modular ray shields have kept their main command center safe."

Erajinn then nodded to Ragnar, who tapped a few buttons on the side of a holotable, causing it to display a birds-eye view of the city currently hosting the invading force's command center, marked bright green in the center of the city along with various schematics of the building. "Since this main command center is surrounded by a ray shield we cannot make entry directly from a transport to the HQ, so we'll be calling on the Black Racers to HALO in about half a klick from the enemy. The transports carrying the insertion teams will be flying high enough and cloaked to where any enemy radar won't register the ships. No radar lock, no AA defenses to worry about."

"The insertion force will be made up of three teams, landing on neighboring buildings here, here, and here." Erajinn continued as he gestured to three red dots on the roofs of three buildings close to the larger droid HQ. "Alpha Team, which is in charge of entering the north side of the building and locating and disabling the droid's primary shield generators, will be made up of myself, Maz, and Orin. Bravo Team is led by Captain Quiln along with half of the Black Racers. Captain, your job is to locate the backup generator and once Alpha Team is ready, disable the backups at the same time as the main generators. This way droid command won't have time to react to the shutdown." Quiln nodded in acknowledgement as Erajinn moved on to the last red dot on the holotable. "Charlie Team, which will be the other half of the Black Racers led by XO Winx, has a more specialized assignment. I need you to infiltrate deep into the second floor of this installation, and hardjack into their main database. This is a chance we don't get often, so siphon as much information and keyframe codes as you can while Alpha and Bravo team get into position."

"We'll get it done." Winx said as he downloaded a copy of the schematics to his wrist comlink.

"That's what I like to hear," Erajinn responded with a smile, "Commander?"

"Thank you General. As the interdiction is taking place, I'll lead the first eight companies of the 49th in a full frontal assault on the local border of the enemy AO. All preexisting artillery installations have been made ready and will begin a continuous bombardment to further draw out the remaining hostiles, and half of the 29th's AT-TE contingent will provide hard cover as we march on the occupied city. We will engage the enemy in various skirmishes along this first line of demolished buildings, just enough to draw their attention. After Alpha Team and Bravo Team disable the shields, all members of the interdiction force will evacuate the facility, breaking off back towards the closest GAR perimeter. Once they are clear, the General will give the all clear to me. Once I've received the green light, I'll send the order to scramble Captain Ember's wing of fighters, along with the Green Ace's bomber wing headed by Sergeant Cox. They will secure the airspace and neutralize the exposed command center."

"We'll reduce those tinnies to slag sir, don't you worry." Ember said, obviously grinning under his helmet.

"Excellent. As the bombing runs are taking place, the 49th and supporting armor will sweep through the city, purging the remaining areas of droid activity. The advancing companies will meet the interdiction force and extract them at this point." Ragnar called out, gesturing to the marked exfiltration point several klicks away from the digital Separatist HQ.

"Until then, we'll rest on our offensive to lull the droids into a false sense of security. Cycle our rayshields, reload the AA batteries and artillery, and have new companies transported to the front lines to relieve the existing garrison. Interdiction transports leave at dusk, so prepare your units appropriately." Erajinn concluded as he deactivated the holotable.

The clones in the room acknowledged their orders and began to file out of the tent, breaking off into smaller groups to discuss the mission. The room continued to empty until all that remained were Erajinn, Ragnar, and Orin, who pulled out his datapad to continue to fulfill his duties as the regiment's Ops Officer. Erajinn leaned back against the now dark holotable as he rubbed his eyes and face in exhaustion.

"Everything alright sir?" Ragnar asked as he sat down on a crate near his general, removing his helmet.

"Never better Commander. Just haven't slept in a while."

"I don't think any of us have sir. In my opinion, it's what keeps us together."

"Well said Ragnar, well said. I'm going to head over to the mess to grab something before the transports lift off, care to join me?" Erajinn said as he rose from his position next to the holotable, extending a hand to his subordinate officer.

"Do I have a choice, General?" Ragnar asked as he took the hand, standing up.

"No, no you don't." Erajinn chuckled as the two exited the tent.

Erajinn jogged across the open landing platform as the alien sun set behind him and night fell across the broken city. He ran to the three lone LAAT/i's occupying the landing space. Maz reached out and grabbed Erajinn's hand as he jumped up into the closest transport as they lifted up into the sky.

"Alpha team is go. All teams check in." Erajinn said into his wrist comm as he did a final check of his gear.

"Bravo team present and accounted for." crackled Quiln over the comm channel.

"This is Winx. Charlie Team is green. All good here." Reported Winx.

"Acknowledged. We are Oscar Mike. All nonessentials clear the comm channel." relayed Erajinn as he smacked the side of the LAAT, causing the blast doors to seal shut and the transport's engines flared to life, shooting up into the sky and off towards the dark city.

Inside the transport, each crew was bathed in the red light of the ship's interiors, the only sound being the hushed breathing of the troopers inside and the shuffling of weapons and armor plates. Outside of the transport Erajinn could hear the faint rumbles of flak exploding in the sky and din of blaster fire, a sign that the 49th had begun its march on the city.

"All teams be advised, we are five mikes until LZ." A clone pilot reported in about halfway through the flight. Four minutes later, another report came in "Be advised, less than one mike until insertion point." and the three transport broke out of formation and headed out each to their designated drop zones. One last report came in over the comms, "30 seconds to drop, blast doors open." the pilot said as the blast doors on either side of the larty opened up. As the doors opened, the cold night air whipped Erajinn in the face as he leaned out of the transport to survey the ground below.

"10 seconds to drop General!" Maz called out over the sound of the wind. Maz and Orin both had attached booster packs to their backs, and Orin grabbed a third from a compartment and reached out to hand it to the Jedi.

Erajinn smiled back at the ARC Ops Officer, "No need Orin! I've got my own form of transport!"

"Eh, it was worth a shot." Orin shouted back, putting the pack back into its compartment.

"All teams, 5 seconds to drop!. 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1. . . All teams you are a go! Jump is green, LZ is hot! Good luck!" Erajinn radioed out one last time, met by a flurry of "Hooah!" from various troopers. The red light in the cabin turned to green and Erajinn stepped out of the LAAT, ARC troopers close behind, and began his freefall to the roof below.

In the past, Erajinn would try his best to be on every HALO operation he could. He loved to fly almost as much as he loved to duel, and on missions where his role as a pilot was not required, plummeting through the sky at terminal velocity was as close as he could get to being in the cockpit of his starfighter. He'd been on his fair share of jumps, and the Black Racers even gave him permission to put their unit decal, a coiled black snake, on the shoulder plate of his battle armor. Erajinn maintained a steep dive towards the ground below until he was about halfway to the ground. Once he passed this halfway mark, he spread his arms and legs into an X formation in order to slow his fall. As he got closer to the rooftop, he could make out the silhouettes of several droids patrolling the ground using the roof as a vantage point. Erajinn reached out with the Force, contouring the air around him in order to further slow his fall. He heard the booster packs of the ARC troopers ignite next to him as they too slowed their descent. He then heard Maz draw his two DC-17 pistols that he had customized with suppressors for this mission, and Orin draw his own suppressed DC-17m rifle as the two troopers began to take out some of the droid patrol mid-freefall.

Erajinn closed his limbs as he made his final approach to the roof. He gathered the Force around him and connected with the ground, the impact creating a small crater around him and sending vibrations up his body causing him to wince. The B1 battle droids around him got pushed back due to the force of the landing, giving Erajinn room to ignite his lightsabers, the green of the blades cutting through the darkness.

"Hey, you're not authorized to be he-" A droid captain started as his command was cut short by one of Erajinn's sabers relieving him of his head. The other droids readied their blasters to fire, but were unable to as Erajinn leapt and spun across the roof, slicing any droids in his path. Maz and Orin landed right beside him, taking out any droids he missed with pinpoint accuracy. The fight was over in a few seconds.

Once the roof was cleared of hostiles, Erajinn activated his comlink to radio his status to the other two teams. "This is Kiro, Alpha Team has made entry to the AO. Bravo and Charlie, can I get a sitrep on your positions?"

"This is Bravo Team. Entry was made without a hitch. Setting up grapple launchers as we speak."

"Charlie Team is a go for entry. We encountered little resistance and our grapple device has been set. We are beginning the ride to the command center."

"Copy that. Once entry is made, move to your designated locations and be ready for my mark." Erajinn responded, ending the transmission.

While this was happening, Maz and Orin had been working to remove the collapsed device from Orin's pack and assemble the team's grapple launcher. Once it had been assembled, Maz lined up the shot and squeezed the trigger on the large launcher, firing a harpoon across the expanse in between their building and the command center. The harpoon continued to fly across the air until it breached the rayshield of the command center, latching on to the plating of the building. Orin gave a thumbs up to Erajinn, and the three operatives attached their pulley devices to the cable left by the harpoon and began to make the trip to their insertion point. Once arrived, Erajinn used one of his sabers to cut a hole in the side of the building, and Maz and Orin crept through, blasters drawn, as they cleared the first few corners around their entry point. Once Erajinn detached from the cable and entered through the hole, the team began to move down the corridor that would lead them to the main shield generator. They encountered little resistance as they moved through the halls of the building, taking out droid detachments with extreme stealth when necessary.

They arrived at the doors containing the generator room approximately ten minutes after their initial entry. They hid behind several pillars as a droid patrol came past. Erajinn heard one of them acknowledge orders over their comlinks to help support troops currently engaging Republic forces on the western border of the city, meaning that Ragnar's diversion was working. Once the patrol had passed, Erajinn got to work making short work of the blast doors with his sabers, allowing entry to the generator room soon after. The three men swarmed into the room eliminating the few maintenance droids that occupied the space. Maz and Orin covered the doors while Erajinn knelt down and got to work gaining access to one of the control panels on the side of the generator. He detached a pouch from his toolbelt that contained a myriad of tools used by spice runners and other individuals who dabbled in the illegal to hijack holonet information highways and to perform other technological malfeasances. He removed a shim that looked very similar to the interface probes used by astromech droids from the pouch and began working off the outer panel, exposing an interface port. Erajinn connected the shim to the interface port, and connected the shim via cable to a datapad. From the datapad, he ran a root program to prepare the system for a manual shut down.

"Forgive my bluntness sir, but why not just blast the damned generator?" Maz asked as he trained his pistols on the hallway.

"If the generator is destroyed while it is still active, the backup generator will automatically be activated. The generator will also send out a distress signal to wherever the control panel is causing this place to go on lockdown. Once Quiln and I shut down both generators, we'll disable it completely so they don't go back online." Erajinn responded, tapping away on the datapad as the generator began to spark.

"Understood."

"This is Kiro. Bravo Team, what's your status?"

"This is Bravo Leader. We've cracked open this backup generator and are ready to disable." Quiln buzzed in over the comlink.

"Understood. Charlie Team?"

"Solid copy. We've had a steady stream of data siphon for the past several minutes. Haven't looked at it yet, but it seems like a good haul." Winx reported.

"Excellent. Bravo Team, get ready to disable the generator on my mark." Erajinn said, igniting a lightsaber and holding the datapad in his other hand.

"Copy."

"Ready. . .mark!" Erajinn said as he tapped the screen on his datapad. The generator sparked and popped before going offline, the lights on the device going dark. Once it had shut down, Erajinn permanently disabled the generator with a stroke of his saber, carving a large gash into it.

Alarms began to blare throughout the facility, startling the three men in the room.

"I thought you said if you hacked the terminal before scrapping it the alarms wouldn't be sounded!" Orin called out over the alarm, firing his blaster in tight bursts at a squad of approaching droids.

"It must have been a redundant backup. Blast it." Erajinn mumbled as he hailed both teams on his comlink.

"We've been made! All teams commence evac immediately and head to the extraction point! Charlie Team, sever your data connection and get out."

"Acknowledged. Charlie Team, let's move!" Erajinn heard Winx call out as blaster fire erupted over the comlink channel.

"I believe we've overstayed our welcome, General." Maz said sarcastically as he threw a droid popper into a group of droids, causing them to drop lifeless to the floor.

With that, Erajinn used the Force to blow the now blaster-scorched doors out of their panels, crushing several droids with them. The group then ran out into the hallway, either gunning the droids down or slicing them in half. They raced down the hallway until they made it to their original entry point. With Erajinn deflecting blaster bolts giving cover to the ARC troopers, Maz and Orin were able to attach themselves to the cable and begin to zip back to the building. Erajinn was the last one out, forcing the ceiling down on the remaining droids.

Once the Jedi and two ARCs made it back to their original landing zone, Erajinn severed the cable and reactivated his comlink. "Bravo Team, Charlie Team, report!"

"Bravo Team made it out. We're camping out at our LZ." Quiln responded.

"Charlie Team is out. XO caught the wrong end of a detonator but we were able to get him out. No casualties for Charlie." reported in a new voice. It was Potshot, one of Quiln's sergeants in the Black Racers.

"Copy that. Sending the all clear command now. Find cover, it's about to get loud." Erajinn said, switching comm channels. "Alpha Team to Command. Do you copy?"

"Solid copy General," Ragnar responded, "How goes the interdiction?"

"Shield generators are disabled and all teams are out. I repeat, all teams are out. You are clear to advance."

"Copy that. All companies, this is Commander Ragnar. The interdiction team has taken out the shield generators and the droid command facility is exposed. Scramble all fighters and bombers, and make ready to advance with AT-TE support."

The comm channel sprang to life as various company commanders and wing commanders sounded off acknowledging their orders. Blaster fire off in the distance became louder and greater in frequency, and the roar of Y-Wings and V-19's became overpowering as a squadron of each blasted over the heads of Erajinn and the ARC troopers. Soon enough, the Separatist Command Center was in flames, the repeated bombardment of artillery and strafing runs reducing the building to scaffolding and ash. Several droid transports and shuttles attempted to escape the surface and meet up with several dreadnoughts in the upper atmosphere that were engaging the Unshaken, but they were no match for the speed and accuracy of the Green Ace's V-19's.

After observing the lightshow for several minutes, Maz, Orin, and Erajinn boarded an extracting LAAT/i shuttle from the rooftop. Erajinn sat on the edge of the transport, legs dangling in open space as the two ARC troopers joined him.

"Another job well done gentleman. These single rotation liberations are giving you boys quite the reputation." Erajinn commended the two troopers as they viewed the advancing companies march on the city underneath them.

"Ditto on that sir. I'm gonna give Winx hell for catching that detonator. Might have to change his name to Smoke." Maz said, causing Orin to chuckle.

Erajinn laughed along with the two troopers, allowing his mind to drift as dawn broke over the newly freed city.

-Ryloth Orbit, 182 days after the Battle of Geonosis-

Seven weeks. The Republic had been at war for six months. One hundred and eighty-two Galactic Standard days since Theron's master had been slain in combat with Count Dooku, and Theron himself had been critically wounded. Horribly burned by Force lightning, Theron's body was covered in vein-like scars, a condition which extended to his face. While the internal damage had been healed by repeated dips in bacta tanks, his eyes had been beyond saving. Their replacement with cybernetic models had kept him laid up in medbay for most of the time since sustaining his injuries, meaning that here, now, he was just now taking his first command as a General of the Grand Army of the Republic.

He stood on a catwalk overlooking the massive hangar bay of the Acclamator assault ship that would shortly launch him and his men for their attack on the surface, the last sets of guns in the fleet having gone silent shortly before as the last Separatist ships fled into hyperspace. But now, for the moment, he was hypnotized as a small group of soldiers, an ARC trooper and two squads of clone commandos assigned to the battered remnants of 8th Battalion, his Master's old command, demonstrated something he never expected to see again to a watching crowd of regular troopers. His eyelids flickered over his mechanical olfactory organs as he willed them to enhance the image in front of him.

The nine men had formed a line and were slowly demonstrating the necessary motions to beat a complex rhythm on the armor plates of those next to them in line. After a moment, they all turned ninety degrees, one of them exaggerating the act of turning too slowly and the man behind him miming a closed, armored fist connecting with his jaw. The nine clones were demonstrating the Da Wherda Verda, an ancient Mandalorian battle dance originally created to intimidate the enemy before battle, but now used as a showcase of discipline, control, precision, and trust in your fellow soldiers. As Theron watched, the nine men sped up, demonstrating the movements at full speed. The dance was performed in armor, so the men were delivering full force blows to create the rhythm. The dance was also performed without helmets, meaning the slightest miscalculation could earn you a broken nose or jaw.

Theron's mechanical eyes watched carefully, tracking their movements more closely than his organic eyes ever could, even aided by the Force. Soon enough, several of the rank and file troopers joined in, matching the movements clumsily but with more and more confidence. At last, Theron could stand it no longer and vaulted over the railing, falling the not inconsiderable distance to the deck below. His knees bent as he landed, absorbing the impact, and using the Force to mitigate the rest. Several of the men started at his landing, but the nine who had begun the dance didn't look over, caught in the middle of a particularly complex sequence. They did take notice, however, when he joined the line as it turned away from him, beginning to beat the rhythm on the backplate of the ARC trooper next to him.

After a short time, the dance ended and the nine originators circled around their General. "I wasn't aware that Jedi learned the Da Wherda, General," one of the commandos said. His commando rig had been painted a digitized mix of ochre, tans, and greens, forming a mixed camouflage effect usable in both desert and forest climates. The other three members of his squad had similar armor, and the other squad used the same colors in a more fluid arrangement. The ARC's armor was dull grey with red flashes, signifying his rank as a captain, but Theron could see a shimmer camo cloak folded and hanging from one of his pauldrons.

"Jedi aren't, commando," Theron replied. "Mandalorians, on the other hand, learn it from an early age."

"Mando?" another commando asked, his tone and a minor quirk to his eyebrow signaling surprise. "Didn't think there were any Mandalorian Jedi, sir."

Theron shrugged. "I'm the only one, so far as I know. And Jedi aren't exactly supposed to flaunt their roots."

The ARC trooper finally chipped in, "And the Da Wherda was…" He let the sentence trail off, letting his faintly amused facial expression speak for the rest.

Theron flashed a grin in return. "Bonding with the troops, Captain."

Another officer chose that moment to arrive, jogging across the flight deck with his yellow-trimmed desert camo helmet under his arm. The commandos snapped to attention, and the ARC straightened slightly, the most respect a regular trooper could likely ever receive from one of that elite breed. "Officer on deck!" came the cry a moment later, and all the troops in the nearby area jerked away from what they were doing and to attention as well. A courtesy they hadn't bothered with for him, Theron noticed, but considering he had been busy joining the special forces troop's demonstration of the Da Wherda Verda he supposed he shouldn't be surprised.

"At ease," Commander Byone said, his voice carrying despite the fact that he hadn't bothered to raise it.

"Commander," Theron greeted with a nod, "are we ready to launch?"

"Nearly, General," Byone told him. "I came down to introduce you to your personal unit, but I see you've met them already. Due to the… reduced size of our unit, we've been tasked with acting as a scout and sabotage unit. Our regular forces will be scattered across the battlefront in support of General Windu's men, but the General requested that you take your personal unit and do your best to infiltrate the capital ahead of the invasion force. I'll be with the headquarters unit, coordinating the rest of our men so you'll be free to operate as you see fit."

Theron blinked slightly, surprised at how the 8th Infantry was being utilized. He could've sworn that on Geonosis the 8th had been a regular line unit, and he said as much to Byone.

"After the heavy casualties we took on Geonosis it was deemed appropriate to retask and provide additional training rather than replenish our ranks, sir," Byone said. "As a line unit we'd be at reduced strength, but we're about the right size for a scout battalion. After a few weeks of survival training and being issued new armor sets with desert and forest camouflage patterns we're ready for our new mission."

Theron nodded. "I may be the General, but I'm going to leave broader tactical control to you, Commander. I prefer to lead from the front, and by the sound of it I'll have a hard time doing that with how spread out our men will be. Make sure the men are ready to launch when the signal comes."

Byone nodded sharply. "Understood, General." His business concluded, the clone commander turned away and began issuing orders, chivvying his men onto the waiting transports as he pulled his helmet on.

Theron turned back to the small group of soldiers, who were apparently his personal unit. "Right then. If we're working together I need names," he said. His bluntness seemed to catch even the ARC trooper off guard, and he took some pleasure in that fact. From what he'd heard and the couple of ARCs on administrative duty on Coruscant he'd met, they were not easy men to catch off guard.

Even caught off guard, the ARC was still the first to respond. "Alpha-92, sir. Call me Daemon," he said.

The obvious leader of one of the commando squads was next, the one whose digitized camo armor had black splashes in seemingly random places. "RC-8217, Nek Squad sergeant, sir. My brothers call me Vibro," he said. In answer to Theron's unspoken question, he ejected the vibroblade housed in his gauntlet. "I really like my blade, sir."

Theron smiled at that and looked to the next Nek. "RC-1812. Name's Winter." Winter's armor still retained some of its original white paint job in between patches of camo.

Theron didn't have to prompt the next soldier. "RC-9824, sir. I keep telling them not to, but these di'kute insist on calling me Sharp," he said. His armor bore no special markings, but unlike the other commandos he carried a weapon other than his DC-17m blaster rifle and DC-17s sidearm. A long, scoped weapon was slung over his back, Theron tentatively identifying it as a Valken-38x sniper rifle.

The final member of Nek squad was equally quick to respond. "Horns, sir. You don't want to hear the story," the soldier said. Sure enough, the commando's helmet had a pattern of horns drawn around the crown in a brilliant red that stood out against the camo pattern of the rest of his armor.

Theron grinned, slightly evilly. "Oh, on the contrary," he said. "I think I definitely need to hear this story."

Horns grimaced, but seemed to decide it would be better to tell his new commanding officer the story before one of his squadmates could. "We had a Dathomiran Zabrak as a trainer in hand to hand combat at one point. We were grappling, and I decided it would be a good idea to, uh, to headbutt him."

Behind the embarrassed soldier, Winter nearly fell over laughing at his brother and Sharp and Vibro were chuckling uncontrollably behind him. Theron was laughing himself, but clapped a hand on the other man's armored shoulder. "Next time you go to headbutt someone with horns, wear your helmet, eh?"

Horns couldn't help but grin back at the joking advice. "Copy that, sir."

Theron turned towards the other squad of commandos. "What about you lot?"

Having had time to prepare, they were ready, their sergeant again going first. "Jaster, sergeant for Omicron Squad," he said, and Theron noted the pair of deep blue jaig eyes over his visor. "That's Viper," he said, indicating a commando with a twisting snake painted on his helmet and chestplate, who carried a Verpine shatter gun in addition to his standard armament, "Digs," a trooper who seemed to have added onto one of his gauntlets with an astromech droid's computer interface, "and Breaker." The last commando appeared to somehow have gotten his hands on a set of Mandalorian crushgaunts, strength enhancing gauntlets that Theron was relatively certain were technically illegal.

As luck would have it, alarms chose that exact moment to begin blaring throughout the hangar. "All hands to your transports, prepare for battle."

Theron grinned at his newly acquired unit. "Sounds like we're up, boys. Daemon, you know which shuttle's ours?" he said.

The ARC cast him a glance that left him in no doubt as to the answer as he pulled on his helmet, sealing it to his armor. "After me, gents." The soldier strode off towards a waiting LAAT/i transport shuttle, swinging up onto the low deck and turning to give the commando behind him a hand. Theron was the last aboard, a Force-assisted leap carrying him easily into the shuttle.

"Push, push, push!" Theron screamed, then vaulted over the shallow trench he and his men occupied, along with a company of General Windu's 91st Recon Corps troopers. Daemon was right beside him, his armor absorbing and diffusing a couple of hits from the droid's blaster fire and his DC-15a blaster rifle spitting fire in return. Nek and Omicron rose with them, DC-17s firing in staccato bursts, while Sharp and Viper provided cover with their long rifles from the slit trench. Theron's newest blaster, a DH-17 blaster carbine, was braced in both hands as he advanced across the rocky battleground. The weapon had been modified from the standard carbine, with Theron bolting on a light, skeletal stock and adding a foregrip and spotlamp. In the desert sun the spotlamp currently saw no use, but the other two attachments greatly aided in steadying his aim as he directed fire at a group of super battle droids.

Theron's original intention had been to use his small unit's larty to insert behind enemy lines, but repeated hits from an AA battery well forward of the Republic's lines forced them to crashland well short of their intended insertion point. Unfortunately, their crash site was still behind enemy lines, just not in a remote location away from enemy forces. They had crashed right in the middle of a reserve unit, losing the majority of their regular troopers on impact. Theron and his men had stumbled away from the wreck, digging in with their basic entrenching tools and spending the next twelve hours fighting off wave after wave of enemy troops until the 91st's advance units reached them.

Considering the numerous hits, not to mention the shrapnel he had found sticking out of his chest after the crash, Theron was glad he had taken the time to thoroughly adapt a set of Katarn commando armor to fit his slightly smaller frame. A lighter version of the chestplate, as well as the gauntlets and greaves provided protection for the most vital parts of his body. In addition to his new armor, his DH-17 and the DC-17s sidearm he carried were both linked to the implants running down the right side of his face that allowed interfacing with his eyes, projecting a targeting reticule onto his worldview when he wished. Said eyes also had sufficient resolution and processing power to run predictive analysis on what he saw, allowing him to analyze everything from his enemy's firing trajectories to another saber user's likely next strike.

All of these things together served to make Theron an even more lethal opponent than he had been before his injuries, as evidenced by the way he tore into the droids as he advanced, his men flanking him to either side. Once he was in close, he dropped his DH-17 to where it dangled on a strap, off of his left hip where it was out of the way but still accessible. His lightsaber and DC-17s leapt to hand at almost the same moment, and between his flashing blade and precise blaster fire the few droids left standing were quickly destroyed. His men switched to melee combat when he did, using their gauntlet vibroblades and short-barreled rifles exceedingly effectively, or in Daemon's case an independent blade and one of his blasters of the same make as Theron's sidearm.

The 91st troopers who had remained in the trench as Theron attacked belatedly charged, quickly mopping up the few droids who had survived the 8th's attack. Looking around, Theron was relatively certain that those had been the last remnants of the droid units dispatched to destroy him and his unit. "Captain, get a fix on our position and plot a route to the capital," he called, and after Daemon acknowledged the order turned to Vibro. "Sarge, get a medevac in to carry out the wounded and the dead, and tell them to send resupply materials with the gunship." Orders given, he turned to the lieutenant who had led the relief force. "How close is General Windu's front line?"

The lieutenant cocked his head to one side, likely consulting a holomap on his helmet's heads-up display. "About ten kilometers back, sir. The front line is encountering heavy resistance from shielded cannons, and General Kenobi is still working his way towards the anti-air batteries."

Theron nodded, processing the information. The plan had been for Kenobi to take care of the anti-air while Windu pressed the main battlefront towards the capital. If neither of those things were happening, it was important that Theron and his men complete their element of the plan. "Vibro, how far out is the medevac?" he called.

"Ten mikes, sir. They can't get gunships through the flak so they're sending a squad of AT-RTs modded with stretchers and cargo containers. Seems like Commander Ponds has been getting creative with his resources, sir," the commando responded.

"Jaster, get the wounded ready for transport. Vibro, your and your men will need to retrieve and distribute the resupply. Daemon, walk me through your route to the capital."

The troopers moved off, carrying out Theron's orders, and Daemon began showing him the path of least resistance leading into the capital. "Officially, the energy bridge is the only way in," the ARC trooper explained. "However, a little digging in the local senator's files revealed a few lesser-known entryways. Nothing that would allow an army access, but ten men…"

Daemon trailed off, but Theron could hear the grin behind his helmet, one that matched Theron's own. "Sounds like we'll be paying Tambor a surprise visit."

It took them several more hours to make it to their entry point, a small cave entrance not far above the base of the plateau the capital city of Lessu sat on, protected only by a durasteel blast door. Even so, they decided to give it a few more hours,letting the harsh desert sun dip below the horizon so they could operate in darkness. As soon as full dark came, the door's lock gave way to a shaped breaching charge, giving them access with minimal noise. A fact which was nearly spoiled by the commando droid immediately on the other side.

Theron lunged forward, his hand grabbing the droid's faceplate from where he stood behind it. Then he jerked backward, dragging the robot with him and pitching it off the ledge they stood on, down the ten or so meters to the canyon floor below. "Well that could have gone better," he muttered, then turned to his men. He noticed that Sharp had his Valken leveled down the corridor, staring down a scope that glowed with the sickly green of a low light filter. "Melee and suppressed small arms fire only until we're in the city. And no spotlamps."

His men nodded, letting their primary weapons rest on slings out of the way, and threading light and sound suppressors onto the ends of their DC-17s sidearms. Daemon did the same to both of his pistols, then holstered one and drew his forearm-length vibroblade from its shoulder sheath while the commandos made sure their gauntlet blades ejected cleanly. Theron's sidearm received the same treatment, though he left his lightsaber where it hung on his utility belt, knowing its distinctive light and hum would be more likely to give them away than anything else.

Theron went first, but looking back he saw the glowing visor on each commando's helmet dim to blackness as they entered the dark tunnel. They crept through the darkness, Theron pausing each time they came across a cross tunnel, either to allow a droid patrol to pass or to redirect according to Daemon's map. Occasionally they would be forced to engage, but between the prior warning from Theron's enhanced senses and superior training, the basic battle droids were no threat. After the one at the entrance, they hadn't encountered any more commandos, and they had yet to see any super battle droids. As they neared the surface and began to hear the sound of pounding artillery, they realized why. The 91st must have made up for their stalled progress during the day, likely because Kenobi had finally succeeded in his mission. Unfortunately, they had no way to find out as any communications not on Separatist channels would be immediately flagged as suspicious. So they pushed on not knowing, but hurrying more than they had before, eager to complete their mission before the 91st could steal the achievement out from under them.

It wasn't until they reached the tunnel exit, leaving behind another squad of destroyed battle droids that they realized things had changed since the Senator's maps had been made. Instead of exiting on the edge of a large, empty public square, they exited the tunnels at the edge of an active airbase, Separtist Hyena bombers taking off and landing in sequence to fly missions against the advancing Republic forces. Theron, still in the lead, froze before he exposed himself, and the others stopped dead behind him. Theron started to wave Daemon forward to look around with his helmet's built-in rangefinder, before remembering he had his own built-in visual surveillance gear. Cybernetic eyes. That was still taking some getting used to. A mental command had his vision jumping a dozen meters forward, zooming in on the landing pad closest to them. A dozen droids patrolled that pad alone, and there must have been five or six pads just on their side of the square. That didn't count the droids patrolling between the pads and control buildings, or the ones on the pads through the rest of the square. There had to be at least two hundred droids, two entire companies, stationed at the site alone.

Theron ducked back into the tunnel, facing his men. "Well, gentlemen. "We're kriffing screwed."

Daemon snorted, the sound audible even through his helmet, then leaned past Theron to look outside, his rangefinder dropping into place. A moment later he leaned back in. "What do you think, General? Whimper of bang?" he asked.

The shortened version of the expression sparked an idea in Theron's head, and after a moment he started grinning. "How are we doing on explosives?" he said.

A few moments of counting, and Jaster had a count. "A dozen thermal detonators, six demo charges, and an assortment of breaching charges from 'what door?' to firecracker."

Theron's grin didn't die down. "Cap, how much damage do you think we could deal with that?"

Daemon replied slowly, obviously arriving at the same conclusion Theron had drawn. "The detonators, demo charges, and some of the bigger breachers should be able to knock out the control systems, and even the firecrackers might be enough to screw up the flight surfaces on the bombers enough to make 'em crash."

Theron could feel the glee radiating from the commandos, and was relatively certain he'd feel it even if he wasn't Force-sensitive. "Viper, you and Sharp stay here and provide cover if anyone needs it. Sharp, play spotter for Viper unless things go hot. Verp shots are a lot harder to notice than blaster fire. Daemon, take Vibro, Digs, and half the big charges. Hit the control centers, strip what data you can, then rig them to blow in…" he glanced at the chrono on his left gauntlet, "thirty mikes. Jaster, Breaker, Winter, Horns, you take the rest of the big charges and the detonators and knock out control relays, same timing. Give me the firecrackers, I'll disable as many Hyenas as possible."

A few minutes of shuffling, and the explosives were distributed. Then Theron eased out the concealed entrance into the tunnel system, and once sure that no one and nothing had noticed, waved the others out. "Viper, take a vantage point in that building," he whispered, indicating a building directly behind them and knowing that their helmet's sensors would pick up his words. "Everyone, switch to rifles, but only fire if you have to and keep 'em suppressed."

The unit broke apart, the pair of snipers moving to the indicated building with their DC-17m's leveled. Daemon led the Nek squad sergeant and their resident tech expert towards the nearest control station, and the other four commandos split up, each aiming for a different section of the landing pad. Within seconds, Theron was left alone by the door down into the tunnels. At which point he realized he hadn't prescribed an exfil plan. It would be fine. They were all consummate soldiers, and Force knows he wasn't much of a planner. Shaking those thoughts off, he drew on the Force and sprinted towards the nearest pad, leaping meters into the air right where he judged the edge of the patrolling droid's photoreceptor range to be. A feat helped by the fact that his own mechanical parts projected that prediction onto his vision.

He landed on top of a Hyena bomber and wasted no time attaching a firecracker to the inside of one of its wings before leaping to the next one, right as a droid swivelled to look at the suddenly appeared shape on top of the ship. He repeated the process, leaping from ship to ship and planting one or two small explosives before moving on. When he finally ran out of bombs, he judged that he had mined roughly half of the currently grounded bombers. In all likelihood that was only a quarter of their strength, but another, even more dangerous plan was quickly forming to remedy that.

The small comm bud in Theron's ear suddenly crackled to life. "New hostiles entering area of operation, northwest quadrant." He wasn't sure who it was that had radioed the warning, but he assumed it was one of the snipers. Shab, a helmet would be useful sometimes. He pressed himself against the top of the bomber he had just finished mining and turned in the indicated direction. A cloaked figure had just entered the square, flanked by four droids of a type and model he wasn't familiar with. Tall, thin, and skeletal, their vertical oblong vocoder and glowing red photoreceptors looked like nothing he had ever seen before. Once again using his false eyes' zoom capabilities, he went for a closer look at these new droids. They carried what looked like some kind of staff weapon, but what caught his eye was the figure they escorted as it threw back its hood.

The hands that emerged from the folds of the cloak were a strange off-white color and skeletal, but unlike the skeleton of any species that Theron knew of. Which was quite a few. He had made it a point to learn as many species' skeletal structure, and therefore weak points, as he could during his training. It was only as the hood fell back, revealing a face that appeared skeletal but could only be mechanical, that he realized this was another droid. Yet another notion quickly disabused when he noticed the reptilian, golden eyes that stared out of the mask. Theron couldn't help but laugh to himself at the irony. Two cyborgs, one who had lost his eyes, and the other who seemed to have nothing left of his organic body but his eyes.

Theron's amusement quickly faded when the cloak shifted away from the other cyborg's body for a moment, revealing multiple lightsabers riding on hooks around its hips, and all plans related to destroying more bombers left his head instantly. The trooper who had reported the contact initially chose that moment to speak again, and this time Theron was sure it was Viper. "Anyone have an ID on unknown hostiles?"

Jaster's voice crackled back. "I can see them now. Guards look like IG-100 Magnaguards. Threat briefings have mentioned them guarding Sep muckety-mucks. No positive ID on the one they're guarding."

"Jaster, confirm unknown hostile's armament," Theron said, his throat suddenly dry. "Check its hips."

It took a moment, but Jaster responded with the words Theron had been hoping not to hear. "Looks like lightsabers, General."

Theron growled, the sound rising in the back of his throat. "Have all the charges been set?" A chorus of affirmatives came back down the channel. "Detonate all remote access charges on my mark, then take down targets of opportunity. Priority is the Magnaguards and the unknown." Affirmatives again met him as he slipped off the Hyena, landing lightly behind a battle droid and dropping it with a blast from his DC-17s. He slipped across the landing pad, a marker in his augmented vision of reality guiding him to the point he predicted he would intercept the unknown.

He reached the edge of the last pad right as the unknown reached it, and clicked his comm on as he threw himself into a leap that would carry him behind the unknown and its guards. "Mark," he said, the calm in his voice surprising even himself considering the inner turmoil he felt at the thought that this cyborg could have killed some of his brethren.

Explosions rocked the square, control stations and relays being reduced to shrapnel all across the area. Smaller explosions on the tops of bombers were overpowered by heavier concussions. At least they were until the emergency protocols in the simple droid brains of the bombers activated, telling them to launch and escape the attack. Then the damage dealt to their flight surfaces became evident as they spiraled and crashed, destroying other, undamaged Hyenas as they did.

Even as the landing pads became flaming scrapyards, a pair of brilliant blue bolts lanced across the area, striking one of the IG-100s in the head and chest. Another of the tall droids crumpled at the same moment, a pair of loud cracks echoing over the sound continued explosions, the sound of metal tearing through metal. Two converging streams of blaster fire emerged from hidden spots on the periphery of the square, quickly tearing down a third guard. The fourth Theron himself dealt with, having landed directly behind it. His DH-17 came up, and he triggered a series of blasts to the head and torso that toppled it to the ground. All four guards fell without the chance to activate their weapons, which he now realized were electrostaves, with what looked like a cortosis weave inlaid in them. Weapons made for killing Jedi.

Theron wrestled the anger that surged through him down, but let the action his fury had initiated carry through. The unknown cyborg had spun around as each of its guards went down, finally facing Theron as his rifle brought down the last guard. By the time it was facing him, Theron had leveled his carbine at its head and pulled the trigger, sending a half dozen shots flashing at it. The cyborg threw itself backward, landing on its hands and flipping its feet over so it regained a standing stance. Theron unslung his blaster and tossed it to one side, where he could sense Daemon coming to stand beside him. The ARC trooper caught the rifle one handed, the other wrapped around his DC-15a. "Get the men clear and hide until I come to meet you," Theron said. "This one is mine." His lightsaber was in his hand in a moment, the weapon he had built from scratch one of the few things he could reliably control with telekinesis. The yellow blade ignited and he settled into a basic Shii-Cho stance, feet shoulder width apart and hands at waist level, blade centered and angled upwards towards his opponents face.

"Jedi," the cyborg growled, hatred evident in its raspy, synthesized, and likely male voice. "I will kill you and add my lightsaber to my collection," he added, shrugging off his cloak and taking a lightsaber in each hand. The pair of blades ignited, one blue and one green, confirming Theron's fears.

"Good luck with that, di'kut," Theron smirked, then snapped his pistol out of its holster with his off hand and snapped a pair of shots off at the cyborg. Rather than try to deflect them the cyborg dove to the side, leaving him vulnerable as Theron rushed in, launching a stabbing blow at the center of the 'borg's chest plate. One of the lightsabers came up and barely deflected the blow, but the movement was clumsy. "You'll have to do better than that if you want to kill me," Theron said. Another set of blows, this time a series that took his blade from one side to another, delivering looping strikes from multiple directions. The cyborg was barely able to keep up, and Theron's lip began to curl, scornful of this amateur who dared to carry the weapons of fallen Jedi.

Theron backed the cyborg up to a wall, his blows coming steadily and with weight behind each one. When his back hit the wall, the cyborg finally did something unexpected when he turned his sabers off and sunk the claws of his hands and feet into the permacrete, scuttling up out of Theron's reach before throwing himself over the young Knight. He reignited his weapons as he came down, launching a flurry of attacks at Theron. Even with the sheer amount of blows coming from the paired sabers and mechanical arms, Theron had little difficulty blocking, deflecting, or dodging the strikes.

After a particular vicious cycle of strikes, he decided to take back the initiative. Ducking under a sweeping pair of blows, one from each side, he drove an armored boot into his opponent's chest, staggering the cyborg and preventing him from attacking for a moment. That moment was all Theron needed to retake the initiative. And this time he didn't take his time or play nice. He intentionally made himself follow a pattern, becoming predictable, luring his foe into a trap. Theron couldn't resist the disgust that swept through him. The trap he was laying was so obvious that a youngling wouldn't fall for it, but this fool was about to fall right into it. It was obvious he had had no actual training in how to wield a lightsaber. Finally, the cyborg spotted the 'opening' Theron had left in his defenses and lunged for it. Theron instantly changed the direction of his stroke and removed the hand that held the blade aimed at his heart.

The cyborg leapt back, the powerful mechanical legs propelling quite some distance. Behind him, reinforcements emerged, a wave of B1 and super battle droids filing in from side streets and leveling their weapons at Theron. "This isn't over, Jedi," the cyborg said, his voice carrying easily from where he stood. Then the cyborg turned and strode through the lines of his allies.

Theron sighed and raised his saber to a defensive guard, gathering himself to rush forward and take the attack before the sheer volume of blaster fire could overwhelm him. The droids raised their blasters, bracing to fire, and Theron tensed… only to be grabbed by a pair of armored hands and dragged into the open doorway of the building he had forced the cyborg up against. Theron was annoyed for a moment that he hadn't noticed the door opening or who or whatever it was grabbing him, but to be fair he had had what looked like an entire army aiming their weapons at him. Even as he cleared the doorway, he spun away from the hands, bringing his saber around in a lethal cut at head height, only to quickly abort it when he recognized the grey armor with red flashes that belonged to the hands that had grabbed him.

"This is no place to die, General," Daemon said. "Let's move. The tunnels have another entrance a couple blocks over."

The ARC trooper strode away, and Theron followed, pausing to clasp arms with Horns and Winter, who both stood watching the doorway. The four of them quickly passed through the building, emerging into an alleyway. Another alley took them over the two blocks, and a small side cut took them to a well-concealed manhole leading back into the tunnels.

"Any news?" Theron asked as soon as the entrance was secured. The low-light filters in his eyes could see Viper at the end of the access tunnel, standing guard with his near-silent weapon of choice.

Daemon angled his head towards Digs, who stepped forward, a portable holoprojector in his palm displaying an image of the capital and surrounding areas. Jaster began poking the map, causing blips to appear where he gestured. "General Windu's men have pushed up to just on the other side of the bridge according to data we stripped from the airbase computers. General Kenobi's troops should arrive in about six hours, and our best guess is that they're gearing up for a siege. As long as they can keep the airspace locked down it should work, since these tunnels can't support much in the way of supply transportation."

"That would work," Theron said, "but Master Windu's always been rather impatient. I'd put my credits on him finding a way into the city before another rotation passes."

"Twenty creds say he goes for the siege," Jaster said.

Theron looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Do you have any credits to bet with?"

"I didn't. Then we ran into some Nemoidians, and now I do."

"Alright, you're on," Theron said. "Twenty credits if goes for the siege, you owe me twenty if he breaks in by one rotation from now. Anyone else want in?"

Apparently those Nemoidians had had enough credits that everyone had managed to make a little money, and the bets quickly piled up. Daemon joined him in the one rotation camp, Jaster, Winter, and Digs all bet on a siege of indeterminate length, Sharp and Viper bet on a week-long siege (Theron made a note to watch those two. Snipers bonding… that was a scary thought), and Horns, Breaker, and Vibro had the sense to abstain from the betting. In the end, Theron and Daemon would clean up on the credits. Not long after daylight broke according to their chronometers, the sounds of fighting reached the city.

The manhole cover was pushed aside again, and the ten men scrambled out of the tunnel system, exiting the alley right in front of a squad of clone troopers advancing down the main street. "Freeze! Identify yourselves!" the shout came, issued by the 91st squad's sergeant as he and his men leveled their weapons.

"Weapons down!" Theron returned. "My name is General Theron Keth, 8th Battalion commanding officer. How goes the battle?"

"Sorry about that, sir," the trooper said. "Wouldn't be the first time the enemy tried to use trooper armor to put us off guard. We've breached the capital and are pushing in. We've been running into periodic resistance, but it seems like the majority of enemy units are pulling inwards to the enemy HQ."

Theron nodded. "Carry on trooper," he said, then turned to Daemon. "We need to report to Master Windu about that cyborg. I don't like the thought of someone who fancies themselves a Jedi killer loose on the enemy side, even if he is incompetent."

Daemon nodded. "Understood. I'll comm command and get a location on the General."

Theron slumped down against a nearby wall, his men quickly joining him, leaning against walls and sitting in door frames. A screaming sound from deeper in the city echoed, and a group of Hyena bombers launched over the rooftops, but were equally quickly dispatched by a flight of V-19 Torrents led by a Jedi Delta-7 Aethersprite starfighter painted with yellow flashes. They noted with some satisfaction that several of the Hyenas were nearly incapable of maneuvering, and others crashed before the clone pilot's fire even hit them. Not long after the call came that enemy resistance was ended and that Emir Wat Tambor had been captured by 91st troopers.

They slumped back down, Daemon still trying to get a bead on General Windu, while the rest just stretched out and enjoyed the relaxation that came with being in a secure zone for the first time in a couple days. Slowly, doors around them slid open and Twi'leks began to emerge. Some rushed up to the clone troopers, clasping hands or throwing their arms around them in gratitude. Theron noted with amusement that the commandos had no idea how to handle the sudden affection, and that none of the Twi'leks approached Daemon. Alpha ARCs had the 'don't approach, I bite' body language down pat in his experience.

Theron leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. He had barely done so when he felt a tug on his sleeve, and a small voice speaking. "Su nu urti?" it said. Are you hurt?

Based on the height the tug had come from and the pitch of the voice, Theron guessed it was a child and tipped his head forward, looking down with a smile to respond. The smile, and the response, were torn from his lips by the look of horror on the child's face on seeing his face full on. She quickly backed away, before turning and running to what he assumed was one of her parents. The adult looked at him apologetically, before grimacing slightly and walking back into their home. The rest of the Twi'lek did the same, as a column of 212th troopers came marching down the street.

Daemon crossed the street to stand next to him before the marching soldiers got to them so they could talk. "Finally got a location on General Windu, sir. He's at the gate to the city coordinating walker and foot patrols in the area until other pockets of resistance have been suppressed."

Theron nodded absently, then looked up at the ARC captain he had spent the last few days in hell with. "Hey, Daemon. How bad do I look exactly? I never really looked at it, between the bandages coming off and shipping out to come here."

Daemon continued to stand over him for a moment, then put his back to the wall and slid down to sit next to him, removing his helmet as the commandos had at the appearance of the 212th troops, a decent indicator that the area was safe enough to do so. "Look, sir, I've seen much worse between training and the war. Civilians aren't used to injuries like that. You can't read anything into…"

"Daemon," Theron cut him off mid-sentence. "I asked how bad it was, not why civvies can't take it."

The ARC trooper stared at him appraisingly for a moment. "It's bad, sir," he finally said, apparently having decided honesty was the way to go. "I've seen worse injuries, but never on someone who was still alive. Frankly, sir? I think it looks kriffing hardcore, but that's because I understand what it means to survive something like that, especially since I heard those scars cover your entire body. But, sir… it might be best for you to see it yourself and draw your own conclusions."

The clone dug sat forward off of the wall and swung his survival pack off of his back, digging into for a moment before pulling out a small square of toughened glass for shaving in the field. He handed it to Theron, who took a deep breath before staring into it.

The mirror showed him his face, thin and angular, the same prominent nose, the same mop of dark hair topping it off. But the flesh was covered in then, ropy scars, forming a randomized pattern that intersected and diverged all over the place. The scarring was heaviest around his eyes, which instead of the white and brown orbs he had all his life were now a pair of gunmetal grey orbs, with a black iris in the middle. Put together the look was… intimidating to say the least. Something swelled up inside Theron, and suddenly he was laughing, deep, belly-shaking laughter like he hadn't laughed since Geonosis. He looked over at Daemon, tears forming in his eyes, the reason for which he told himself had to do with the laughter still coming from his chest, and not with the loss of what he still thought of as his face.

"Well," he said, "I guess it's a shabla good thing that Jedi are supposed to be celibate. I'd never get anywhere with this thing on my shoulders."

Daemon simply looked at him for a moment, then smiled grimly. "We're going to celebrate winning this battle Mando style after we report in. We'll use the rest of those morons' credits to buy drinks and enjoy ourselves. And then we'll see about getting you a helmet.".