Soldiers of the Republic

by BIG Z1776

The Republic has lived and prospered upon several things, the bravery and skill of the Jedi Order, and the blood and loyalty of its soldiers. Before the Clones were those who had stepped forward to fight for their Republic, and the Clone Wars was no exception despite the name. The volunteers of the Republic did their part. This is their story.

23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Location: Hyperspace, CPF Battleship Indomitable Regency

In the rather open interior of their barracks the soldiers of the 15th Patriot Division's 44th Regiment the atmosphere was electric. The mostly Serenno-native unit was ready for their baptism by fire. The mostly human force had numerous alien faces, but the vast majority were in fact human. Many of the less numerous alien member races of the Confederacy were fairly hesitant about committing their own defense forces when Republic offensives drew closer and closer to their home space. But for many, it didn't matter, their mission was to win, not be sensitive to others. Plus, much of their equipment was meant for human or humanoid soldiers. And there were plenty of Near-Humans in the unit, mostly Fondorians who'd managed to smuggle themselves at their own expense through to their own lines.

The ship, the Indomitable Regency, a Lucrehulk-Class Battleship, was actually mostly crewed by Aqualish, and had an Aqualish captain. This ship was amongst nine other battleships, and each battleship had its standard four Type-1 Star Destroyers, eight Type-2 Cruisers, and twelve Type-3 Escort Cruisers along with the large formations of twenty Type-4 Automated Frigates and thirty-two Type-5 Automated Gunships. In total, seven hundred and seventy one of their warships were on their way to return Confederate strategic momentum.

However, morale was low, the great general of the CIS, General Grievous, with over a thousand ships, had gotten beaten, losing a thousand ships, including forty Lucrehulk's. The images of destroyed hulks of Separatist warships and piles and piles of battle droids with Republican Guard troops posing and cheering on top of destroyed vehicles were being streamed across the Holonet. The troops of Company B of the 2nd Battalion were currently crowded around the main screen in the back of the barracks, watching this somberly.

"With this victory, Republican Guard forces have, as the Republic Armed Forces have claimed, destroyed the Separatist strategic reserve in the sector," the voice Erik Syno said, a voice that was quickly known as the voice of the Guard.

"Bloody hell, look at that," one of the men said.

"They creamed 'em, a whole fleet, led by Grievous no less, how're we gonna stop that?"

"Don't believe that propaganda," one of the younger soldiers chided the man who had voiced his displeasure.

"Look at that, it's right in front of you!"

"Ten-hut!" the company sergeant major called out loudly in the characteristic Serenno accent.

The numerous troops rushed to stand to attention in the aisle that divided the ranks of bunks.

"At ease gents," their company commander said as he walked in, "I think we all know what's happening out there right now. The Republic managed to beat the tar out Grievous. These are dark days, and the cause needs every man and woman to face these times with all the strength in their souls as we take the fight to the Republic and its means of oppression. We strike the planet Phindar and we will liberate it and the people on it. After that, we will drive down the Parmellian Trade Route, straight to the Core! The rest of the Confederacy is depending on us."

The soldiers all looked around, rather surprised by such a determined and powerful statement. After such a powerful message like the one that the Republic had delivered the soldiers of the Confederacy were in need of a victory. Their belief in their ability to win had been in doubt ever since the news had broken and they had been sent on this mission. But now, there was no more room for doubt as the fleet and the army within was propelling itself towards battle. They had no choice but to perform or fail, and failure meant certain doom.

"All hands, battlestations," the signal came for the men in the barracks to prepare for combat.

"This is it, gear up, gentlemen," the officer said with a refined calmness that belayed the chaos going on in the minds of the men around him. It was this type of level-headedness that was key to maintaining discipline among his untrained and rather shaken troops.

The fleet was almost to its destination, and aboard the bridge of the flagship, a massive Ultrahulk-Class Super-Battleship, the Patriot's Resolve, was Admiral Korra Der. She sat in her command chair with her two rows of control stations manned and ready. It would be the first time since she'd nearly lost her life at the hands of the Republic Volunteer Corps at Harrin and lost more than four hundred ships. They were now ready to show the Republic that they weren't going to throw in the towel.

"All sections are at battlestations, all fighters ready to deploy, as are the transports," the ship's captain told her.

"Good, once the Republic fleet is out of the way we'll hit the surface with airstrikes and then hit isolate each of garrison," Der ordered, "The Clones will be the main target, then we'll push on down coreward."

"But if we hit hard enough they'll surrender," another one of her officers replied.

"Shock and awe," her executive officer responded, "I've got an idea for it."

"No orbital bombardments Commander Berro. You'll only end up pissing off the locals and inflaming resistance," Der told the Aqualish commander.

"Or not," the individual replied, "I've seen a people force their government to surrender after a few shots into a crowded city."

"You give that order that and it'll be your last order as an officer in the Patriot Forces."

"Yes Admiral," the old Aqualish responded, "We can simply utilize our numbers of starfighters for intimidation."

"We have thousands of them for a reason," she responded, and then the fleet started to countdown, and she saw the ship dropping from hyperspace.

The fleet came out of hyperspace before a fleet of fifteen Venator-Class Star Destroyers and eight Acclamator-Class Assault Ships. Six Arquitens-Class Light Cruisers and eighteen Consular-Class Cruisers were moving about, previously on patrol around the busy shipping lanes and numerous stations and skyhooks that were the method in which the merchants and traders moved their cargo that wasn't bound for the surface. The lines of freighters and scattered passenger ships and personal ships were now scattering, frightened by the hundreds of Separatist ships now arriving.

"Put me through on an open channel, launch all fighters and assume offensive formation. Fighters to take formations to protect the gunships and frigates," Admiral Der said, turning to face the visual communication screens, "Let's see if we can't make their job harder."

"Send the civilian ships scattering, preventing them from forming up and establishing a line," Commander Berro nodded, "Well played."

"You're on ma'am," the Duro female called out once the message was ready.

"This is Fleet Admiral Der of the Confederacy of Independent Systems Patriot Forces. As of this moment you now reside in Confederate space. All Republic forces are demanded to vacate this space or surrender. Failure to do either will result in your destruction," Der threatened them.

"No response from the Republic fleet," the comms officer replied.

"Republic ships are trying to fall back to make the jump out," the sensor operator piped up, and Der looked to see the Republic ships starting to back off.

"All ships engage. Let's deal with them."

Around the main flagship several hundred Type-4 Gunships thrust forward, their nose-mounted proton cannons ready along with the numerous squadrons of Scarab-II Starfighters pushing towards the Clone fleet. The ships all opened fire once they came in range, and the gunships and fighters started taking hits. But the gunship fired once and then pulled away, firing in volleys as each formation took a shot. A Venator took numerous hits as its fighters tried engaging the swarms of fighters, but it was obliterated by the cannons punching through its dorsal hangar doors and exploding its munitions and fuel stores. Hull plates bowed and bent as it tore itself apart. Another Venator was struck, and its reactor was hit, and the explosion tore the ship in half and the bow section fractured as more explosions from its shipboard munitions going off. The Scarabs swarmed and the Republic fleet knew the danger of the gunships, and focused fire. The third wave took shots, and more than a few exploded as their fragile hulls were struck by heavy turbolaser fire. V-19 Torrents and Z-95 Clone Headhunters took on the slower Scarabs. Y-Wings were more than overwhelmed by the swarms of defense fighters and couldn't even get close.

"The Republic fleet's pulling back," a sensor operator stated.

"Keep up the fire, destroy the transports and the Star Destroyers, we have a golden opportunity to destroy an enemy fleet and an elite corps," Der said with a grin, "We need this victory."

"I'll have our forces sent to the surface," a deep voice to the right said calmly, and she looked to see Ronan the Wild, the Hero of Tion and leader of her elite shock troops, the Warriors of the Tion.

"Go, limit collateral damage," she said with a nod.

The armored man smirked and shook his head, "I'll resist the urge."

"That is an order, General. This is key to capturing the planet we can use the people's aid to seize the planet."

"Very well," Ronan replied and stood to his feet and turned to leave, "We'll have the capital claimed by tomorrow. Prepare to land!"

Der turned her attention back to the fight, the Clone ships were pulling away, five of their Venator's were destroyed. The other seven were disabled, and she saw the blinking lights of escape pods and gunships evacuating the ships as the Republic fighters continued to cover them. Most of the Acclamator's were jumping, but six were already destroyed and all of the lighter ships were falling back, jumping into hyperspace one by one. Her fleet was proving itself, even without her big ships engaging.

She watched from the bridge as swarms of C-9979's flowed from the fleet, forming into waves. Most were filled with droids, but they had volunteer troops within their hulls. It was time to take this planet and take the fight to the Republic for a change. She had troops from all over assembled in this fleet, and was going to use them. But she also knew that the Republican Guard might be coming for her fleet. They would be ready though, she knew him too well.

Location: Vivyis-12, Dreadnought Basilisk

"We have a problem Admiral," Lieutenant Commander Wain Kuat said as he walked into the CIC, "Columex is under attack from a major Separatist fleet. Over seven hundred ships are confirmed, including a massive variant on Federation Battleships."

"Show me," Grand Admiral Drexel ordered and Wain tapped a few controls.

"General Ki Adi Mundi and a small element of the Galactic Marines were there acting as a holding force. So far the entire force is stranded on the surface. We lost fifteen Venators and eight Acclamators. Casualties were severe," Kuat said calmly, "The forces we're seeing there have a major fleet of Kuat-designed warships, pocket-type Star Destroyers, thirty-six of them and nine Lucrehulks."

"We can't take them on without refitting and rearming, we'd have to fight our way there through the CIS's reinforcements. We lost a lot of ships and there's another Separatist fleet moving into place to fill the void Grievous' forces left when they launched their offensive," Drexel responded, "What do we know about this force?"

"Confederate Patriot Forces, a mashup of volunteer and droid forces. They're using ships that are unique to their formations and are thus far proving the model to be working. Fleet Admiral Korra Der commands the fleet. This is the same Der that we beat at Harrin when we destroyed the 19th Task Group. The Separatists apparently felt that she was the ideal candidate, she graduated from the Anaxes War College two years before the war began, studied in several of your own courses."

"She's earned her keep, she's created a force that can alter the balance of power in the war. Take notes ladies and gentlemen this is our new rival. In the meantime, we need to recoup our losses and prepare for operations to rescue Master Mundi and his troops. The people will sooner turn on his army and the Clones with them than see their cities be leveled in the fighting."

"We lost a dozen star destroyers sir and most of the rest are damaged to some extent," his chief of staff reported, "And even more corvettes and cruisers were also lost and we're still counting the dead from our ground troops and crews. We can't launch another major offensive . Grievous may have failed to destroy us, but he did force us out of action for some time at the cost of an entire fleet."

"The Separatists are on the backfoot. Der's forces wouldn't have been deployed otherwise. It can't be coincidence that we crush Grievous then her fleet goes on the attack," Wain offered, slightly out of line.

"They're responding with force, they're not desperate Commander. Phindar is a crucial juncture that will connect two of the Separatists' major territorial enclaves. Losing it won't necessarily hamper us, but it will sure help them," Captain App responded testily.

"Do we know where the enemy's reinforcement fleet came from?" Drexel asked.

"Here sir, their major massing point in the far outer rim."

"Then their fleet's probably running on fumes. That many battleships and cruisers can't refuel from a fleet tender. The closest enemy fuel depot to here is, Centares. That's where we'll catch this enemy fleet moving to stop us and crush it, and maybe we'll force Der's hand and make her come at us on our terms."

"What if she pushed on past us, moves towards Columex and then down the Parmellian to the Core?"

"I'm counting on it. Der's command structure is demanding swift movement of the fighting away from Confederate space, she'll press on, taking the offensive coreward away from the enemy's primary power centers. Then we'll meet her here, at Tanaab, let them bypass Lantilles by keeping its Clone forces beneath its double layered planetary shields and then close her lane of retreat behind her. Bring in Clone forces from the Core as we attack her from in front and trap them in the kind of maelstrom for which they aren't prepared," Drexel told them and then with a cold threat he finished his prediction, "If Der wants to venture into the realm of the dreadnoughts let her."

Location: 3rd Guard Legion Landing Site, Vivyis-12

The Acclamator they'd come in on had taken some hits, but the ship was still intact and the crew had gotten her back into condition to transport the 3rd offworld. Wyatt had learned that the legion had suffered over four thousand casualties. The legion was down by 25% of its 15,000 troopers.

His own company was almost entirely wiped out, his platoon had suffered almost seventy-five percent casualties with nineteen killed and ten wounded. All they had left was a shadow of their former platoon: seven troopers was all that remained. Wyatt himself was the only member of his squad to make it out of the fighting unscathed. The others that weren't killed or wounded were Lieutenant Yuno, the platoon medic, a squad leader from 1st Squad and two of his men and a greenhorn who'd been a replacement PV2 when she'd arrived in the weapons squad. Their platoon was obviously the worst hit, but would end up having seven of their wounded returned within a few days taking them back up to fourteen troopers. It still hurt, they'd suffered casualties on Commenor, and hadn't gotten any replacements before being thrust into battle on Harrin.

But Eva would be back, as would Hal and Kyly. Kyly's eyes managed to be saved thanks to the platoon medic and their squad medic who was actually working on his squadmates while barely being able to walk on a broken leg and a shredded foot. Hal and Eva's armor had taken the majority of the blaster bolts that had struck them and the wounds were being healed now via bacta patches. Wyatt sat in the barracks that was now far more empty than he was comfortable seeing it. The gear of those who had been in the bunks around him that weren't going to return was already gone along with the digital nametags on the bunks. It had been a rough couple days for the 3rd Guards Legion. But he was in for a complete shock when he walked over to the Holonet News broadcast being shown in the back of the barracks. The news was ringing with the tales of the legion's heroism, they'd had to bear the brunt of the droid offensive and they hadn't cracked.

"With the tally now complete and reports now firmed up for the battle on Vivyis-12 it seems that the most ferocious fighting took place in the forests of the northern hemisphere where the 3rd Guards Legion is confirmed to have taken on and destroyed two entire Separatist droid corps. Over three hundred battle droids and their vehicles are confirmed to have been destroyed by this all-Tanaab volunteer outfit. This is the same unit that spearheaded the Republic Volunteer Corps initial heavy combat action against the Separatists on Harrin destroying several combined droid divisions there. Military analysts are stating this to be the legion that refuses to break."

This didn't get the usual smirks and confident agreement from the few troopers watching the feed. Instead a staff sergeant reached up and turned off the holonet projector.

"Get some sleep guys," he said after locking his blaster into the rack next to the projector.

Everyone was still wearing their armor, which was colored in a mixture of burns, camouflage paint, dirt, and blood. Their helmets rested on the tables and on their bunks, and everyone started stripping off their armored pieces and Wyatt was about to do the same when he saw Lieutenant Yuno walk in, and looked him right in the eye. Wyatt knew that this meant he was wanted.

"Corporal, need to talk to you," the officer said beckoning him over as he held a datapad.

"Yes sir," Wyatt sighed and walked over, grabbing his helmet when he saw Lieutenant Yuno step out of the barracks into the hall, and he followed with the helmet held under his arm, "You wanted to speak to me sir."

"Yes Corporal, I just read over the report from analysis of your and Private Quartin's helmet cameras and it seems you two have made some waves. Both the good kind and the bad kind."

"Striking that officer sir?" Wyatt winced.

"Yeah, his jaw's broken in three places, and on top of that he's the son of a wealthy Commenor politician," Yuno explained, and turned to face Wyatt, "He wanted you in cuffs. But when the admiralty confronted him with the fact he friendly-fired Quartin he backed off. The general himself wanted to be sure this message reached you: If you strike another officer you will be court martialed."

"Yes sir," Wyatt nodded, relieved, but greatly worried as any soldier would be when the word court martial was used in a sentence directed towards them.

"But, you two are also up for a Golden Medal of Courage. It's not everyday two troopers bring down over fifty droids by themselves and summit the tower of a crashed Star Destroyer to destroy another thirty and save numerous Republic personnel and classified data," Yuno added. He was finishing with the good part, "Nice job on that, but, as part of the deal to keep you from losing the medal and keep that ensign's father quiet you won't be getting that third chevron today. Even as much as I need good NCO's."

"I understand sir, and uh…when will we know who'll be returning to the platoon from medical?" Wyatt asked.

"Well, your fireteam managed to get lucky enough to return to full strength, even though you were the only one unscathed," Yuno told him, "As for when, probably in the next day or so we'll be getting our numbers back up."

"Thank you sir," Wyatt said, and Yuno nodded in return.

"You're doing a good job Corporal, so far you're in the running for the most decorated enlisted man in the Legion. Keep it up," the officer said before leaving.

"Yes sir," Wyatt said, snapping off a salute and dropping it. Now he felt truly tired, and his bunk was calling his name.

Location: Orbit over Centares, Separatist Fleet Fuel Depot

"Good to be back in the pilot's seat, can't have my record broken by you jokers," Captain Teela Abya said with a smile as she prepped for another engagement.

"It's nice to have you back too," her squadron commander smirked as they prepared to drop from hyperspace.

"You good?" Dev asked.

"Always, bacta's a wonder worker," she replied, feeling the slightly sore leg that had taken a hit during her rather trying time on Vivyis-12.

The F-Wings then dropped out hyperspace alongside numerous other squadrons. Teela accelerated the fighter forward, taking lead in her flight of four alongside two new fliers who'd arrived shortly before Vivyis-12 and had mounted six and seven kills. The two guys were green, but showed promise like any other Corellian behind the stick. Around the squadron Y-Wings and other F-Wings dropped out of hyperspace, bee-lining it towards the assorted lines of Separatist warships awaiting fuel. Their objective here was simple, blow the massive fuel tanks and pumping stations that kept the Separatist fleet supplied in the immediate region. It wouldn't be all too hard, there were nearly four hundred Y-Wings bearing down on these ships and their vulnerable fuel stations and close to eight hundred F-Wings escorted them.

Many of these squadrons were fresh arrivals from the Revenge-Class Heavy Carriers that now formed themselves Heavy Carrier Groups with three Task Forces in escort. These six new organizational units were subordinate to a Praetor-Class Battlecruiser, with two Revenges per battlecruiser and an immediate Battlecruiser Group of four Task Forces around that individual ship, amounting to ten Task Forces each. Reinforcements had finally arrived after Guard reserves had been brought forward, bolstering the fleet to thirty-five Task Forces in total at the front. This meant that the Basilisk herself also had an escort fleet of five Task Forces, which according to their briefing was to be standard. Eva now realized she was part of the 1st Guard Fleet, which was centered on the Basilisk, and had a standard organization of one Battlecruiser Group and two Heavy Carrier Groups under its command, fifteen Task Forces in total. Two more dreadnoughts were able to have fleets built around them using the ships at the Guard's disposal, and rumor had it that they had enough recruits to fill out the entirety of seven fleets, one for each of the Mandator-I Class Dreadnoughts.

Still, despite the massing of so many heavy warships the starfighters were the principle long-range striking arm of the Republican Guard and were being used as such today. Teela appreciated this immensely, seeing as she had ground to make up after having missed the largest space battle to have yet occurred in the Clone Wars. The all-red fighters around her she could tell were itching to mark up their kill counts to catch her, seeing as the margin was greatly reduced between her and the other fighter jocks after Vivyis-12. She scanned for fighters and locked onto a flight of four Vulture Droids peeling away from their patrol pattern towards the glittering storm of Republic starfighters. She clicked off four of her eight missiles, and forgot to call out the launch.

"Silver-8 your status as a former hostage doesn't excuse breaking protocol!" her squadron commander barked in her ear after the missiles were away and striking their targets.

"Sorry Silver Leader, won't happen again."

"Good, because here they come!"

A swarm of Vulture Droids and Tri-Fighters poured from the hangars of over thirty Separatist ships she could see before them. The F-Wings parted ranks to prepare for maneuvers and the Y-Wings started to fire their long-range torpedoes at the fuel depots. The fuel depot stations were built like lines with bulbous spherical tanks lined up going up and down on top of one another on a central node with spars jutting out holding fuel pumps and lines and nozzles for each type of major Separatist ship that used their fuel. These stations were quite large, being two thousand meters tall and holding six columns of forty bulbous tanks of fuel stacked on top of one another with a bottom receptacle where fuel tankers could deposit replacement fuel stores. The fueling stations for the warships spiraled upwards so that lines of ships didn't interfere with one another's flight paths. And the best part was that there were four of these large stations just sitting there in orbit, and many thirsty warships were there to fill their tanks.

"Break and engage, protect the bombers," Teela ordered her flight, "Target Tri-Fighters, they're the ones that'll go for the Y-Wings."

"Roger that Silver-8," Silver-10 responded.

Teela banked hard, laying into the trigger and sending laser fire into the droids that came at her. She saw her kill counter on her HUD blink three more times as the fighter formations closed and passed, meaning three more kills. It wasn't hard to miss when the droids came at them like big blobs. Her twin wing-tip cannons kept firing as the swarms intermingled and she deftly pulled hard and broke right, trying to anticipate the Tri-Fighters that would inevitably avoid the F-Wings by banking to fly around and get to an intercept course for the Y-Wings she now saw loosing their single Seismic Charge torpedoes. Indeed she did get a good look at squadron of the fighters going after the Republic bombers, and gave immediate chase.

"Dev hit those bastards!" she ordered, locking on with concussion missiles, and fired her remaining four weapons.

Dev followed with another four, and missiles tracked into their targets and smashed six droid starfighters, four missiles had struck two fighters, meaning six of the nimble dangerous enemy fighters remained. She closed the distance, and saw four Y-Wings take fire and explode as the formation of three squadrons got passed through by the droids that the two F-Wings were pursuing. She fired a long burst, pitching and yawing her fighter to scatter her laser fire to cast a wide net to hit as many as she could, and she saw two of the fighters succumb to both her and Dev's fire. Her counter didn't register the kills, they belonged to Dev. The remaining four fighters broke off, swinging back and passed through the two of them in a lightning quick maneuver that would have killed biological pilots with sheer inertia. They fired as they parted the two F-Wings, but missed and Teela managed to pop another one, having not ceased firing at them as they had turned and came at the two of them head-on.

"Man I hate those things!" Dev growled as he turned alongside Teela's F-Wing and pursued, and fortunately he had the missiles to fire into the enemy fighters, and downed all three with a three-missile salvo.

A massive burst of flame and debris nearly blinded Teela at this point as one of the fueling stations exploded, sending huge balls of flame and singed wreckage in all directions. Droid warships fractured under the sheer force and the heat alone dealt massive amounts of damage to nearby ships and fighters. A chain reaction occurred as two more stations detonated, having been struck and compromised by the immense and powerful field of wreckage striking their fragile structures. The last one exploded shortly after as Teela watched and smirked in satisfaction. The Guard had done good work today. Once again the swarm tactics done their job.

"All fighters break off and head for the surface, we've got work to do there," the comms alerted her, and then she saw a swarm of new contacts appear on her sensors.

"What the…" she murmured, and spun her fighter to get a look, and saw an entire fleet of warships entirely new to her, mostly painted blue, but they looked far more meaty and substantial than their previous opponents. Some even looked like Star Destroyers, and there were ten battleships in their formation along with a much more massive version of a battleship. In total she was looking at well over seven hundred ships, "What the kriff are they?!"

"No idea! All fighters jump right now!" Silver Leader ordered.

The Republic formation poured into a full-blown retreat, choosing to return to their ships rather than target the support facilities on the planet. For the first time they had now for the first time been forced to give up on a mission.

"So, anyone going to ask who the kriff those guys were?" someone asked as the fighters were in hyperspace.

"I've heard of a new Separatist fleet forming, made up of volunteers, didn't think they had kriffing star destroyers!" the squadron commander replied.

"Those were no star destroyers!"

"Doesn't matter, they're close enough, dagger profiles, large, and probably armored," Teela sighed.

"Can't wait for the old man to let us show them who the real soldiers are," someone else in the squadron added.

"I'll be the first to sign up for that mission," Teela smirked proudly.

Location: Planet Phindar, Clone Positions

On the grassy knoll Ki Adi Mundi surveyed the area. His fleet had been badly mauled, and he'd ordered most of it to retreat and those who had not been able to had dropped to the planet in whatever gunships, shuttles, and escape pods that could have made it. They'd landed on an island on purpose, it was just large enough for his four thousand men to hold. The Clones were easy to order to dig in, once they started they did not stop until the job was done. Their armor was well-suited to the incredibly uncomfortable tropical humid climate. As Galactic Marines were known for and at Mundi's insistence they also had improved armor, most visible in their helmets' bulkier appearance.

Along with their weapons they barely had time to scrounge for supplies, the escape pods managed to provide some emergency rations and some ammunition. However they were not going to be able to last for very long. Their medical supplies were basic at best, not even present at worst. But the Clones were soldiers, excellent one. They were consolidating, digging into the waist-high grass coating hills in the center of the island with forest protecting them from above with the truly thick jungle being the best place to defend. Trenches and bunkers were coating the area with deadly fields of fire, and Mundi was just waiting, scanning everything in front of him to see when the droids would come.

Their headquarters was established, a bunker had been dug into the ground on the highest point with views in all directions from multiple pillboxes dug into the ground, reinforced with logs and parts from their shuttles and gunships. Camouflage had completely covered it, and he even had a table that a resourceful clone had made and then taken a holographic projector that projected onto it whatever was needed from the mobile command consoles they'd brought along. This was in the main command center with the comms equipment needed to coordinate their defense, underneath a pair of LAAT/i wings that formed the floor of the main level. The laser cannons were being utilized from their LAAT/i's by being buried and their cockpit sections were facing critical areas of fire. Their ball turrets and missile launchers were also able to be used, pointing up and linked to the ground with heavy parts of their hulls. It was a strong enough defense for the purpose of holding out, but they wouldn't last very long without help.

"Sir, we have reports of seaspray approaching the island from the north," Commander Bacara informed Mundi as he looked around.

"Very well, prepare to open fire, let's get as many of them as we can before they reach the shore," Mundi ordered.

As he expected to happen the sounded of concussion missiles were fired. The white trails of the missiles flew out, and he could hear the explosions from afar. There wasn't much that he could do from here though, and like any Jedi he felt a need to go to the front and aid his troops.

"I'm going to the beach to help," Mundi told his staff.

"Understood sir," Commander Bacara nodded in reply, watching the dots of MTT's and AAT's moving over the water towards them. The missiles picked them off every so often, but it was slow and inefficient.

"There's no way we can take them all," the Clone Commander said as he looked at the projection.

"We've got enough good positions to make 'em pay sir," a lieutenant responded, putting on a brave face.

"Incoming from above sir!" one of the other Clones called out. Above the island a rapidly descending group of formations of small objects was coming for them.

"Fighters?"

"No sir, too small, never seen 'em before," the man said quickly.

"Redirect fire!"

Outside Mundi heard the sonic booms, and then looked out to see several pods slamming into the ground in the field outside the headquarters. From the twelve pods that hit four men jumped out and he recognized them. A silver-helmeted group of Nimbus Commandoes was now engaging with his men, wielding A280's, a deadly weapon that Mundi was familiar with, the Republican Guard used it. He wasn't surprised at its use by their enemies, their armor piercing abilities were renowned, and his men wore armor.

"Target the pods! Target the pods!" Mundi said as he lit his lightsaber, and this got the attention of the Nimbus Commandoes, all wearing their usual semi-loose uniforms, recolored into a more practical olive color but their helmets were still the same.

Red blaster bolts poured from the rapidly advancing men, one in four of which were using a new weapon, one that was not used by anyone but the CIS Patriot Forces, the T-20 Light Repeating Blaster. This weapon was rapid firing, and could sustain that fire due to its large barrel that regulated the temperature far better than the Republic's own designs. The lines of laser fire lanced back and forth, and Mundi was forced to take cover as the Clones around him rushed to engage. A few of the Nimbus took shots to the chest and dropped, and a similar number of Clones were hit and downed.

"Sir, the beach, they're being overwhelmed," the comms called out.

"Order the men to retreat to the next set of defenses," Mundi quickly responded.

On the beach the Clones were firing and peeling away, pouring disciplined fire into the droids that had made up the initial landing force. But lines of Platoon Attack Craft Mk. II's were on their way right behind them. They landed all at once, and from the rear ramps a roar of battleready warriors sounded out. Soldiers decked out in dark-colored and detailed three-piece armored cuirasses and leg and shoulder plates came streaming out. They all held a tall hexagonal shield with the sigil of Tion on its face. Their blue and black armor made them stand out, and their helmets were easily identifiable. They wore a helmet that went around their heads completely save for a piece that allowed their faces to show and they all had a curving back point on the forehead of the helmet and two more curving fins over their ears. The most recognizable aspect was not just their armor and shield, but it was their blaster spear, a staff with a trigger that fired a powerful blaster seamlessly built into the base of the eight inch twin forked vibroblades that were forged to a razor's edge. They all also had a single long Khopesh-style sword in a scabbard, for when things got really close. These were the Warriors of the Tion, a warrior cult as old as its fiercest rivals, the Knights of Anaxes.

As these swarms of elite shock infantry poured from their transport vehicles their leader, Ronan, stalked out and joined them, pacing calmly as he looked around. He had a shield and his helmet under his arm, his own spear in his shield hand. His bodyguards walked up behind him just as his blue cape settled on the ground. With his usual deadly tone he turned to a commander who ran over, bowed and awaited his orders.

"Bring me the Jedi."

Well I think that'll due, the situation is a bit confused for our heroes/villains, depends whose side you sympathize with, but this is war, neither side will have an idea what's going on until it is too late. There's gonna be a battle, not a big one, but our volunteers will face one another soon.

Next Chapter Preview: Mundi's rescue is initiated, and a game of chess begins.