Shadow of the Jedi

by The Son Of Hades123

He no longer wears a suit to breath. He is no longer a Sith. And he is taking the Trials to become a Jedi Knight. Join Nico Di Angelo as he try's to change the Fate of a galaxy wide war, while trying to cope with the demons inside. Nico Di Angelo may be back, but Lord Reaper is still lurking in the shadows. I don't own PJO, HOO or Star Wars The Clone wars. Nico might be OOC.

15. Chapter 15

Shadow of the Jedi

Chapter 15: The Battle of Kothlis

"There must be balance."

"I, hereby crown myself, Mandalore the Avenger!"

"I'm not doing this for the Republic. I'm doing it for you."

"Saviour, conqueror, hero, villain. You are all things Nico…and yet you are nothing. In the end you belong to neither the light nor the darkness. You will forever stand alone."

Line break

Knock, Knock, Knock!

"Commander, wake up! General Skywalker wants you on the bridge!"

Ahsoka sat up with a start. She breathed heavily, trying to catch her bearings. What in the name of the Force was that? She asked herself as she remembered her dream. She then shook her head and looked to the door, where someone was still knocking.

"What? Who is it?" She called, her voice cracking from sleep.

The knocking stopped. "It's Rex, and you're needed in the Battle Operations Room."

Ahsoka exhaled. "Okay, I'll be right out!"

Ahsoka quickly got dressed into her Jedi clothing, attached her lightsaber to her hip and walked out of her quarters, to see Captain Rex waiting there, standing straight, bulky helmet clipped to his belt.

"Hey there kid, you ready?" Rex asked.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, "You can't call me kid anymore Rex, I'm sixteen now. And why does Skyguy want me in the Operations Room?"

Rex grinned, "You'll always be that kid I met on Christophsis, little'un," He said as they started walking down the corridors of the Resolute, he then turned serious, "An incoming message has just came through from the Jedi Council, Priority Alpha."

Ahsoka frowned as she picked up her pace, a Priority Alpha is the most important transmission, "Recorded or real-time?"

"Recorded, sir," Rex responded, "Sent by triple-coded multiple-routed shortbursts."

Ahsoka bit her lip anxiously, Here we go again.

Line break

Once Ahsoka walked into the Battle Operations Room alone, Rex having left to go to the mess hall, she immediately froze in her tracks. Nico was standing there next to Anakin standing around the broad central holodisplay table, bickering about some random rubbish that she would never understand about, while Admiral Yularen just stood on the other end of the table with his hand rubbing his eyes tiredly. Nico looked exactly the same as he did the other day, when he told her about Boba, apart from the fact that his hair is uncombed so that it stuck out in all angles.

She didn't know what Nico talked to Boba about, and she didn't ask him, but for some reason the young bounty hunter looked slightly nonchalant as he was transferred to General Kota's ship, being taken back to Coruscant, which she found strange, seeing how he was going to prison.

"Hey, Princess." Nico greeted casually, barely breaking his stride of bickering with Anakin. Ahsoka smiled slightly at the nickname that he gave her back on Maridun.

"Hey, Angel boy," she said casual. "So, what's the Priority Alpha. Master?" she asked, turning to Anakin.

"I dunno," Anakin said with a shrug, "We were just waiting for you." His voice was mild, completely unperturbed, as though an Alpha transmission from the Council came along once or twice a day…instead of only as a last-resort emergency.

Ahsoka eyed him with unbecoming envy. One of these years I'm going to be as untwitchy as him.

Nico sighed, "Yeah, well get on with it then, I was forced out of my bed because of this." He said, impatience obvious in his voice, as if a Priority Alpha was just a pain in the ass.

Anakin rolled his eyes but turned the holodisplay on. The holoimagers blinked on, bright blue-white light against the Battle Room's muted illumination. The air above the holodisplay shivered, mirage-like, and then an image flickered, partially disintegrated, flickered again, and finally coalesced into a recognisable form.

Master Yoda.

"Confirmation we have, Knight Skywalker, of the initial report," said the Jedi Order's most respected Master. "Misled the Special Operations Brigade was not. A target, have the Separatists made of Kothlis and its spynet facility. In Republic hands must they remain, for compromised the Mid Rim cannot be, once the strength of the enemy you have determined, call for reinforcements you can if defeating the Separatists without them is not possible. But contact the Council in real time do not until Kothlis you have reached. Stealth and secrecy are our most potent weapons. Use them wisely. May the Force be with you."

Master Yoda's image winked off.

"Well," Said Nico, breaking the tense silence. "This is going to be interesting."

Anakin frowned. "What reinforcements? Our people are scattered from one side of the Republic to the other. Why didn't Master Kota just stay with us?"

"Kota had to drop the bounty hunter off back to Coruscant." Nico said with a roll of his eyes, "Besides, Coryx Moth is on patrol near Falleen, isn't she? That's the closest-"

"One ship?" Anakin shook his head. "Nico-"

"It's better than nothing, Skywalker."

Anakin didn't think so, if the look on his face was anything to go by. He scowled at Nico and the Ghost King stared back, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry, but Master Yoda's message is too cryptic for my tastes," Admiral Yularen said. He had one narrow finger stroking his moustache, a sure sign he was uneasy. "Bitter experience has taught us we can't attack the Separatists with anything less than overwhelming force. Not if we wish to avoid a catastrophic level of loss on our side."

"And in an ideal galaxy we would have that overwhelming force at our disposal," Nico retorted, arms decisively folded. "But unfortunately for us Admiral, this galaxy of ours is far from ideal. And cryptic or not, we have our orders. Yoda's right-we must keep Kothlis out of Separatist hands."

"I know that," said Yularen curtly. "But the notion we can't call for support until we're in the thick of the fight? We all know that'll likely be too late."

"True," said Anakin, stirring out of somber thought. "But we'll have to live with it. In fact-" He shot the Admiral a dark look. "I think we'll have to think twice about calling for help at all. Because if someone does come to our aid, it means somewhere else gets undefended."

Yularen bristled. "What? You want me to risk this battle group-three cruisers-against-"

"I beat Grievous with three cruisers," Anakin said, deceptively mild.

"I know!" Yularen retorted. "And that would be my point, General Skywalker. The Separatists aren't stupid. They learn from their mistakes. They're going to make sure they have more than enough fire-power to easily take us down! I'm not prepared to risk-"

"I'm sorry, Admiral," Nico said in a calm and collected voice, "But I'm afraid you might have to. Skywalker's made a good point. What we'd prefer hardly factors in to this. We simply don't have spare battle groups that are wandering around the galaxy."

Abandoning his moustache, Yularen drummed his fingers on the edge of the holodisplay table, angrily resentful of the cold, hard facts. "I know. I know. I'm just-" He sighed. "I don't like it. That's all I'm saying."

"We should comm the Separatists, then," Nico said, his eyes glittering in the dull light. "Let them know that there plans are inconvenient. Ask them to make sure they only send in a couple of-"

"Nico," Anakin said quietly.

"Sorry," the Ghost King said, while twisting his silver skull ring. "I'm a bit…on edge."

Ahsoka looked at him from under lowered lashes, feeling his agitation through the Force like a hot breeze over her skin. No kidding.

"So," Nico added. "I guess now we head for Kothlis."

"Without delay," said Skywalker. "Admiral?"

Yularen nodded, his face grave. Resigned now to what had to be done, no matter how hard he found it. "Agreed. And with any luck we'll beat the Separatists to the punch and be waiting for them. Even the smallest advantage might make the difference for us." He toggled the comm button again. "Lieutenant Avrey? We have a mission."

While Yularen relayed battle group orders with staccato speed, Nico drew Anakin aside with a glance, "I suggest we play to our strengths in this one, Skywalker," he said, his voice low. "If we do reach Kothlis and find that the Separatists have stolen a march on us, it's likely we'll be looking at both air and ground assaults. Should that prove to be the case, I suggest you lead the fighter squadrons and I'll take care of the ground assault with Captain Rex and your Clone trooper companies."

Anakin smirked. "And if we've stolen a march on him?"

"In that case," Nico said, his expression fastidious with distaste, "I'll join you with the fighter squadrons."

Ahsoka watched the two exchange quick smiles, then cleared her throat. "Um, yeah, good for you, and what about me?"

They stared at her, startled, as though for a moment they'd forgotten she existed, causing Ahsoka to roll her eyes, Boys. In the silence she heard-felt-the shift in the warship's sublight drives as they broke their stationary position, getting ready for the hyperjump to Kothlis.

"You, Ahsoka?" said Anakin, "If it comes to a ground assault, you'll fight with Nico and Rex. And if it doesn't, you'll stay here on the Resolute."

Stay behind? While he threw himself heedless into danger? "But-"

Anakin's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't argue."

Not fair, not fair, she raged silently. Nico looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as if he could read her thoughts.

"Ahsoka…" Anakin gentled his tone. "This isn't about your competence. I know what you can do. But we have plenty of pilots. Your skills will be better utilized here."

"General Skywalker's right," said Admiral Yularen. Finished giving his orders, he was unabashedly listening in. "If you do remain aboard ship, there'll be a tactical targeting array with your name on it." He unbent far enough to offer her a small, not unsympathetic smile. "I've yet to meet a Jedi who couldn't out-sense our best sensors."

"To be honest, I'd rather be in your place Princess if it comes to a space battle," Nico said with an amused smirk, "But it's more likely you'll be needed on the ground," He added, "With me. I hope the prospect's not unbearable, Princess."

Ahsoka scoffed, "Not unbearable at all, I just hope you can keep up with me." She then gained a shy expression, "It's only-"

"I know," Nico said, more warmly. "You worry for the idiot's safety." He said gesturing to Anakin, who looked mildly offended. "But there's no need. He's a great Jedi and an even greater pilot." He turned to Yularen. "What's our estimated jump time to Kothlis?"

"Thirty-eight standard minutes," the Admiral said. "I'm dropping us out of hyperspace just inside sensor range of their spynet. Close enough for us to contact them, and to sweep for enemy ships if we have beaten the Separatists there."

"Our own intelligence agents will have alerted the Kothlis Bothans to the danger they're in," said Anakin, frowning. "For all the good it'll do them. Without a standing army or space fleet of their own, they're ripe for the plucking." His gloved prosthetic hand clenched. "If we lose Kothlis to them-if they manage to breach the Mid Rim…"

"Don't let your thoughts run ahead to disaster, Skywalker," said the Ghost King sharply. "As you said, you defeated Grievous with three Cruisers once, so you can do it again against a random Separatist General. There's no reason to think we can't defeat them."

Anakin sighed, "Sorry," he said, "You're right. I should know better."

"Thirty-eight minutes," said Nico. "Give or take. Just enough time for a little pre-battle meditation. You're not the only one who's feeling a bit on edge. I could do with some refocusing myself."

"You?" Anakin's eyebrows shot up. "I find that hard to believe."

Nico scoffed, "Believe it, Skywalker. You know how much I hate flying."

"I think you just say that," Anakin retorted, grinning. "You couldn't be such a good pilot if you hated flying as much as you claim."

The Ghost King grimaced. "Trust me, if I'm a good pilot it's out of a well-developed sense of preservation. As far as I'm concerned, Skywalker, anyone who actually enjoys flying is in serious need of therapy."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "If you're not careful I'll tell Gold Squadron you said that. So-are we going to navel-gaze or aren't we?"

"Excuse us, Admiral," said Nico, the amusement dying out of his face. "And look for us on the bridge ten minutes before the battle group drops out of hyperspace."

Admiral Yularen nodded. "Yes, Commander. In the meantime I'll have fighters and gunships prepped for flight."

"Ahsoka," said Anakin, as Nico headed for the Battle Room's closed hatch. "Make yourself useful and give Rex the heads-up, will you? Run through the pre-battle routine with him and his men. Half of Torrent Company's still a bit green. They'll settle with you there."

Ahsoka frowned slightly, she wanted to talk with Nico, but she wasn't about to protest, "Yes, Master," she said. She waited for him to leave so she could sprint too midships and let Rex know that they'd soon be going into battle. Again.

Line break

"So, what's the skinny, little'un?" Rex asked, as Ahsoka skidded into the mess hall. "Since we're on the move at last, have we got those clanker's in our sights?"

"Sort of," she said, dropping into a spare chair beside Checkers, one of Torrent Company's latest additions. "We've confirmed the preliminary intel-they're definitely after Kothlis. Now it's a race to see who gets there first."

Rex's perfect teeth bared in a feral smile. "Ah. Then it's game one."

The crowded barracks mess hall erupted into muttering and exclamation. Force-sensing from habit, Ahsoka tasted the Clones' swirling emotions. A little caution. A lot of excitement. At first she'd thought the Republic's Clone soldiers welcomed battle because they had no choice-because they'd been genetically programmed to fight and not question that duty. But while that was an uncomfortable truth, one she found herself wrestling with more and more as the war dragged on, it was also true that most Clones she knew enjoyed combat-and not because some Kaminoan scientist had tweaked a test tube and made sure they would. No they enjoyed winning. Outsmarting the enemy. Liberating citizens who were being used as pawns by Count Dooku, and Nute Gunray, and the other shadowy leaders of the Separatist Alliance.

Was it so hard to believe, really? Saving the innocent-that did feel good. Besting-or surviving-lethal foes like Asajj Ventress? Like Grievous? Like the late Lord Reaper? That felt good, too. She knew that Anakin and Nico deplored this war, deplored the senseless loss of life, the suffering…but she wasn't blind. She'd seen in their faces the exhilaration that came with victory. It was no less real than their grief when lives were lost. She'd felt it, too. She'd celebrated when victorious, venal beings were defeated.

It's so complicated. If war is wrong, how come we find moments of pleasure and triumph in it? Isn't there something…twisted…in that?

Disturbed by the thought, she heard herself whimper in her throat, just a little bit. And that alarmed her so much she crushed the notion, savagely. Little fool. It was exactly the wrong thing to be thinking when they were racing through hyperspace to confront the Separatists and save the helpless people of Kothlis from enslavement-or worse.

Ahsoka Tano, you know better.

Rex was deep in conversation with Sergeant Coric, so she turned to Checkers. He might be a newcomer to Torrent Company, but he wasn't a greenie Clone. The deep scarring on his right cheek attested to previous combat experience…as did that certain glint in his eye. The same glint she sometimes saw in Rex, and Coric, and any number of Torrent Company's men. It set them apart as soldiers who'd been fought to a standstill, who'd stared down death-and survived.

Checkers felt her gaze on him and looked up. "Ma'am?"

She blinked. "Oh, I'm not a Ma'am."

"What, then?" said Checkers, with a wry half smile. "Something tells me I won't get away with little'un or Princess."

"You can call me Ahsoka," she said, charmed. "Everyone else does."

"Ahsoka it is, then," he replied. "Togruta, aren't you?"

"That's right. Checkers, can I ask how you got here? I mean, how did you get assigned to Torrent Company?"

Checkers flicked a glance at his fellow Clones talking among themselves in the mess hall, pursed his lips for a moment, than seemed to reach a decision. His face relaxed, and his shoulders settled. "I requested the transfer. Used to be in Laser Company, under General Fisto."

Oh. "Is that when you were wounded?" she asked, her voice small. "In the Kessel encounter?"

His fingers came up, touching lightly to the bubbled scarring under his eye. "That's right."

"I knew there was only one Clone survivor, but I didn't realise that was you."

He shrugged. "No reason you should. You weren't here when I joined Torrent, and there's no point talking about it. Can't undo what happened."

"But there's still a Laser Company, isn't there?" she said, frowning. "I thought Master Fisto-"

"There is," said Checkers, with another shrug. "But I wanted a clean break. After they got through patching me up at the Clone medfacility, they offered me a posting of my choice."

"And you chose Torrent Company?" Charmed all over again, she couldn't help but smiling, even though his terse story covered a chasm of pain and loss. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad, but-why?"

"Not because I blamed General Fisto," Checkers said quickly. "Don't think that, Ahsoka." His dark-eyed gaze shifted and came to rest on Rex, still talking logistics with Sergeant Coric. "The truth is I want to survive this war. That means serving under the best officer I can find."

Checkers was keeping his voice down, but Rex still heard that last comment. Startled, he broke off whatever he was saying to Coric and shifted in his chair. Seeing and feeling his barely muffled astonishment, Ahsoka grinned. It wasn't easy to rattle Rex-even Nico found it tough…and she did find it comforting to know he could be rattled. At least when they weren't on the front lines, facing death.

"Stow the chatter," he snapped. "We're on the chrono."

Silence claimed the mess hall, abrupt as a cut comlink. Ahsoka winced at the suddenly ratcheted tension buzzing through the Force like a vibroblade. It made her teeth ache and her vision blur.

"Ahsoka," Rex added, skewering her with his most direct, no-nonsense stare. "What's our ETA at Kothlis?"

She checked her almost infallible Jedi time-sense. "Twenty-three minutes, Captain."

"Ground assault's confirmed?"

"Not confirmed, but highly possible. If the Seps have beaten us there and started an invasion of Kothlis, Commander Di Angelo will handle the counteroffensive while my Master and Shadow Company clear the skies."

Rex nodded. "That means you're with us? Good." His gaze swept the hall. "Then we need to gear up. Torrent Company-get to work!"

Within a heartbeat the mood changed again. Lingering anxiety and uncertainty disappeared in a wave of purposeful action as Rex's men began the familiar countdown to combat.

Because she couldn't help with that, because she couldn't do anything now but wait, Ahsoka got out of the way. She perched herself in a corner and tried, like Anakin, to calm herself with meditation. Which was fine, mostly-except one thought kept intruding, over and over.

May the Force be with us. And please, please, don't let my actions get any of these Clones killed.

Line break

"It's no good, Admiral," said Lietenant Avrey, flushed with dismay. "I'm sorry. I don't know how they're doing it but the Seps have every comm channel jammed, even our internal network. We're silent across the board."

Yularen glared at her. "That's unacceptable, Lieutenant. Find the problem and fix it."

"Sir-" The comm officer's face lost its hectic colour. "Yes, Sir. I'll do my best."

As Yularen swallowed an unprofessional response, Anakin looked to Nico. The Ghost King raised an eyebrow, resigned. "This time the advantage goes to the enemy," he murmured. "It's going to get ugly."

Beyond the bridge's main viewport the Separatist flagship and its four satellite cruisers hung low and threatening above the Bothan colony world of Kothlis. Two of the planet's three small moons were completely obscured by the Separatist fleet, and the void of space lit up at haphazard intervals as the Separatist's invasion troops blasted a path through the thin belt of asteroids ringing their intended target, bullying their blundering, unopposed way toward the planet's undefended surface.

Joining his Jedi colleagues, Yularen blew out a furious breath. "We've never lost communications like this before. They've upgraded their countermeasures. How in the Nine-Hells are they getting their intel?"

"That's an excellent question, Admiral," Nico said as he stared out the viewport through narrowed eyes. "And we need to find the answer-just as soon as we've dealt with the Separatists."

"Obviously-but how can we do that if we can't talk to one another?" Yularen demanded. "And if it turns out we're outgunned and we're not able to send reinforcements, how can we possibly-"

"Sir!" said Lieutenant Avrey, crawling out from under her com console, her light blonde hair darkened with sweat and grime. "Sir, I think it's a virus."

Yularen swung around. "How serious?"

With a grunt and a swipe of her sleeve across her face, Avrey scrambled to her feet. "It's corrupted the comm software, Admiral. As far as I can tell we've got ship-to-ship tightbeam-and most likely the Clone troops' helmet tightbeam will work, too. Aside from that-" She shrugged. "We've been gagged. And the systems diagnostic can't recognise the virus coding. I can tell you it's complex and multi-stranded-three quadruple helixes at least-self-replicating on a random cycle and specifically targeted to our systems."

For a moment Anakin thought Yularen was going to burst a blood vessel. "And it's on my ship?" He turned, every muscle rigid. "General Skywalker-"

"Admiral, each new cruiser tested clean before it left Allanteen Six," Anakin said. "And none of my modifications could've introduced a virus. In fact, I designed blind-alley redundancies to make sure something like this couldn't happen." He glanced at Nico. "And if they've failed, that means-"

"Sabotage," said Nico, his eyes bleak. "The Separatists must have infiltrated our shipyards."

Silence followed as they digested that unpalatable fact.

"Avrey, can you fix this?" said Yularen. "I can't send men into harm's way without communication."

Seated again at her console, Avrey looked up from punching in a swift succession of commands. "Admiral, I'm initiating a systemwide purge but it'll take time-and I don't know how effective it'll be. I've never seen a virus like this. I'm almost positive it was remotely activated. Whoever designed it-they're a genius. For all I know-" Breaking off as her console beeped and flashed, she adjusted her earpiece, listened for a moment, then turned back to them. "Tightbeams from Pioneer and Coruscant Sky. They report the same problem, Admiral. Battle group comms are down."

"Is there nothing you can do, Lieutenant?" Nico asked. "No other solution but trusting this purge?"

Avrey dragged her fingers through her hair. "I don't think so, Commander. I don't-"

"What?" said Yularen, stepping closer to his Officer. For all his formidable self-discipline, a note of hope sounded in his voice. "I know that look, Lieutenant."

She flicked him a frowning glance. Anakin, focusing all his senses on her, felt trepidation and a faint buzz of cautious optimism. "Sir, I did my Academy dissertion on pre-axis crystal bio-anode circuitry," the Lieutenant said. "The technology's years out of date, it's practically ancient history, but the theory's still sound."

"If it's ancient history, how can it help us?" Yularen demanded. "I need solutions, Lieutenant, not-"

"This might be a solution, Admiral," she said, meeting his hot gaze unflinching. "For all the upgrades and improvements we've got around here, I'm pretty sure we've still got some of that circuitry on board-in the waste core's tertiary adjunct conduits. They're another kind of triple redundancy. Pre-praxis bio-anodes used to have comm applications. If I can strip them out and rig them into the comm console, I think I can punch a signal through subspace strong enough to reach Coruscant."

Yularen stared at her. "You think?"

"Sir," said Avrey, the remaining colour draining from her cheeks. "I know."

"You're saying you can restore communication?"

A muscle leapt along Avrey's narrow jaw. "I'm saying we've got a better than even shot at it, yes, sir."

"How long, Lieutenant?"

"To rig Resolute? An hour, give or take."

"Then another two hours for Pioneer and Coruscant Sky?" Yularen shook his head, frustrated. "That's three hours neither we nor Kothlis have to spare. Have you looked through the viewport? The Separatist forces are invading as we speak."

"Lieutenant," Nico said mildly, as though they weren't facing an utter disaster. "Can you tightbeam detailed instructions for the comm officers on our other two ships? If all three of you work simultaneously, your plan might still succeed in time to do us some good."

Avrey snapped out of her almost imperceptible slump. "Yes, Commander Di Angelo. I can do that."

"Then get on with it," said Yularen. "Every minute wasted means more lost lives."

"Wait," said Anakin, abruptly unsettled. I have a bad feeling… "What about our fighters? And the gunships?"

"They should be unaffected, General," said the Lieutenant. "They're not linked into our comm systems."

Anakin looked at Nico. "No. but if the Separatists can remotely activate a computer virus-"

"Then they might have the power to jam our ship comms," said Nico. There was unease in him now, too, the bad feeling shared. "Despite our anti-jamming precautions. I think we should find out before we launch an attack."

Leaving dourly silent Yularen and frantically working Lieutenant Avrey, Nico and Anakin made their way to Resolute's flight deck. The hanger's deckhands, on standby now that they'd prepped the fighters, watched them with wide eyes. Gold Squadron's pilots were in their barracks, mentally preparing for action.

"Don't disturb them," Nico said as he swung himself into his own fighter's cockpit. "If it is bad news, best they're spared hearing it for as long as possible."

And it was bad news.

Sickened, Anakin stared at his Aethersprite's unresponsive comm panel. Then he looked over at Nico, whose expressionless face said it all. "So, the Separatist's aren't taking any chances."

Nico nodded. "Obviously."

Computer viruses and broadband jamming equipment. Those barve's gone and got themselves some serious upgrades. I wonder how long we've got before they can take out our tightbeam as well? "If they're jamming the fighters, it's a good bet he's taken out the gunships, too."

Another nod. "A very good bet."

Stang. "R2-can you unjam us?"

Already locked into his wing position, R2-D2 emitted a dismal whistle.

Anakin slammed his fist against the open cockpit's frame. "Great."

"Come on," said Nico, all emotion ruthlessly repressed. "Yularen's waiting."

The Admiral took one look at them as they returned to the bridge and spat a soft curse. "Then that's it."

"No it ain't," said Nico, eyebrows lifting. "We can't afford to wait until communications are restored. Kothlis needs us now. We go in."

"You mean fight blind?" Anakin said, disbelieving. "And deaf? Nico-"

"I grant you it's not an ideal way to conduct a war," Nico said, a glint of either a genius or a madman in his dark eyes. "But I don't see another choice. Do you?"

Stang. He didn't. The Separatists were delivering mayhem and slaughter while they stood here helpless, watching. They weren't even bothering to divert any of their cruisers or droid starfighters their way, so arrogantly confident were they that they'd rendered them impotent.

So let that be they're mistake.

"How do you want to play it, then?" Anakin said, his belly jumping with nerves. He felt shock run through the Officers close enough to overhear this crazy conversation, and Yularen's dismay, swiftly stifled for the sake of his crew. "It's not like we can communicate with hand signals or colour-coded flags."

"Actually, Skywalker, your task is relatively simple," said the Ghost King. "Engage the enemy and keep on shooting there ships out of the sky until none are left."

Simple? Yeah, right. Although, being coldly dispassionate, Nico wasn't too far off the mark, come to think of it. "Fine. But what about you?"

"Using the fighters as cover, the Clones and I will run the Separatists gauntlet in gunships, make atmospheric entry, and insert on the ground. Kothlis has only two points of interest- the capital, Tal'cara, and the spynet facility on the city's northwest outskirts. We'll target those two areas first and see what happens once they're secured." Nico looked at Yularen. "Unless you can think of a better plan, Admiral."

Yularen shook his head. "No. we'll go with yours. For one thing its uncomplicated-barring disaster, we won't need communications once all cruisers and squadrons are reading from the same flimsy. Besides, it's too risky asking the gunships to tackle the droid starfighter defences."

Anakin nodded. Spaceworthy the gunships might be, but top-of-the-line fighters they assuredly were not. "Agreed. So, Emo-Ninja, that gets your boots on the ground. And then what?"

A small glint of humour sparkled in the Ghost King's eyes. "Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something. Imminent death tends to stimulate the imagination." He turned. "Lieutenant Avrey-"

The comm officer looked up from her console while she was pushing the systemwide purge as hard and fast as it could take. "Commander?"

"Have you got any spare data crystals? I've got a few instructions for the other Clone companies-and the Captains of Pioneer and Coruscant Sky."

"Sir," she said, and nodded at a slot in the comm console. "Help yourself."

"Perfect," said Nico, accepting her invitation. "Skywalker, it's time you briefed Gold Squadron. I'll need you ready to launch in fifteen minutes."

"Nico, if you're recording orders for our other pilots then maybe I should-"

Nico smiled tightly, his hand full of data crystals. "Just this once let me speak on your behalf."

Anakin frowned, but nodded. Blast it, I think we really are crazy. "Fine. Tell them to use their best judgement. Tell them to keep their eyes peeled and-and think of themselves as one-man squadrons. Tell them to launch on my mark-once Gold Squadron's clear of Resolute, Hammer Squadron launches from Pioneer and then Arrow Squadron from the Sky. After that they're on their own. Nico-"

His former enemy-and new friend-nodded. "Yes, Skywalker. I'll take care of Ahsoka."

"Make sure you take care of yourself while you're at it," Anakin replied.

Nico just smiled. He smiled back, not even trying to muffle his feelings, then turned to leave-but Yularen raised a hand. "I know you Jedi don't believe in it-but I wish you good luck, General Skywalker. And don't worry. Comm or no comm, we'll have your backs."

"Thank you, Admiral," Anakin said, nodding. He trusted the man, even though Yularen's reservations about the Jedi lived close to his surface. "Good hunting to you, too."

On the way down to his pilots Anakin took a swift detour via the Clone troops' barracks where Rex and Ahsoka and Torrent Company were geared up and waiting.

"Master!" Ahsoka said as she and Rex answered his beckon from the opened hatch. "What's going on? What's the-"

"Be quiet and listen," he said, quelling her with a frown. "The Separatists beat us here. His invasion of Kothlis is well under way-and to make things interesting the comms are jammed, so we're going in blind. Resolute and the other two cruisers will be escorted through the upper atmosphere by our fighters. On my signal you'll go in on gunships, then while you're taking care of the Separatist ground troops we'll mop up his warships and droid starfighters. The actions going to be hard, fast, and dirty, so stay on your toes."

Ahsoka blinked at him, for once in her short life lost for words. Clasping his hands in front of him, Rex frowned. "When you say all comms…"

"I mean all comms," he said quietly, meeting Rex's concerned gaze. "Except your troops' helmet tightbeams-we hope."

Rex's eyebrows lifted. "Are the regular comms going to be restored?"

"Maybe. And there's a chance we'll be able to call for help if we need it."

"Um…how good a chance, exactly?" said Ahsoka, her ocean blue eyes wide.

Beneath her bold exterior Anakin could feel her anxiety. He resisted the urge to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. The last thing he needed was Torrent Company thinking either of them was worried.

"Good enough," he said, keeping his voice clipped and businesslike. "But that's not your concern. Follow Nico's lead and you'll all be fine."

"And what about you, sir?" said Rex. Nothing in his attitude indicated unease, but the Force told a different story. Like Ahsoka, the experienced Clone Captain was deeply unsettled.

And I don't blame him. I'm not exactly turning cartwheels myself.

"Forget about me," Anakin snapped. "I've got the easy job."

"So if we don't have communications," Ahsoka said slowly, "how will we know when it's time to launch the ground assault?"

"Don't worry. You'll know. Now hop to it, Rex. Get your men down to the gunship hanger-those gunships are lonely. Nico will join you there shortly-and I'll see you both when the party's over."

"Yes, Sir," said Rex, nodding smartly. "Good hunting, General."

"May the Force be with you, Master," Ahsoka whispered.

"The Force will be with us all, Padawan," he replied. Then he left them, before his self-control slipped and he revealed the depth of his own doubts.

Gold Squadron, with their unerring instinct for imminent trouble, was waiting for him on the hanger deck, laconic and restively ready for action. Clone Captain Fireball, his clipped hair dyed an eye-searing scarlet, a single black-and-scarlet scalp-lock proclaiming his stubborn individuality, greeted him as he joined them.

"General."

"Game on, Fib," he said. "With a twist-we've got no communications."

His Captain's only reaction was a raised eyebrow. "Fine. I'll take fighting over chitchat any day."

Oh, these men. He loved them. "It means we're going in hot and wild, no plan but this: blast those kriffing Sep ships out of my sky."

Fireball grinned with ear-to-ear ferocity. "It'll be our pleasure, General."

The rest of Gold Squadron was listening, their focused attention and absolute belief in him as warm and reassuring as his mother's hand on his back.

"Those Separatists think they've got us whipped before we fire a single shot," he told his pilots, sharing with them his unbridled ferocity. "I'm in the mood to contradict them, boys. How about you?"

They roared with one voice, clenched fists punching the air above their heads.

"Forget about the comm troubles," he added. "You don't need me telling you what to do. You were born knowing what to do. You've done it before, and after today you'll do it again."

Another roar, louder this time.

"Torrent, Cascade, and Waterfall companies are depending on us to sweep the streets for 'em," he finished. "And we are not going to let them down. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" his pilots shouted, so loud this time that the hanger's metal struts and deck plating thrummed with the sound.

He was so proud of them-and at the same time so afraid. The brutal reality of combat meant the odds were they wouldn't all come home. They knew it, too, but no one would read that in their faces-faces that were at first glance, to the uncaring observer, identical. But he knew them as individuals, and he loved them for themselves. He could list each man's scars, recite each man's quirks, describe each man's idiosyncratic hair. Close-helmeted, in full body armour, he knew every one of them by his walk.

Blindfold me and I'll tell you who laughed.

Letting his gaze touch each unique, commited pilot, he locked their faces tightly in memory, in case this was the last time.

"Okay, let's go," he said. "On me in standard formation until we clear the ship. Once we hit free space take care of business in your own time. Last man home buys the drinks."

Laughing and eager, the Clones broke ranks and headed for their fighters. R2-D2 hooted and whistled as Anakin climbed up to their ship's cockpit.

"Don't panic, R2," he told the agitated droid. "Someone's working on the problem."

More anxious whistling.

"No. right now I need you more than Lieutenant Avrey does," he replied, starting his pre-flight check. "So while we're kicking tinnies into the gutter out there, R2, you do your thing and I'll do mine. And if you have to tell me something, write a note."

This time the little Astromech droid sounded dismayed.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," he insisted, even as fear shivered down his spine. "The Separatists haven't found the machine yet that can touch us. Got it?"

R2 beeped a mournfully hopeful reply.

"Good," he said, and took a quick look around the hanger to make sure Gold Squadron was locked and loaded. Yes. Every starfighter was tight and right, canopies engaged. He felt burning in the Force: his pilots' united determination to prevail, to defeat the enemy no matter what was thrown their way.

I'm so lucky to have them. Please, don't let me let them down.

His own cockpit canopy he left unsecured, for the moment. Waited for a messenger from the bridge to say they were go for launch.

Come on, come on. What are we waiting for? Time means lives, people. Let's not hang around.

Line break

Nico stood by himself on the bridge, staring through Resolute's main viewport across the airless abyss between himself and the enemy battle group, at the droid transports. The Separatists vomited another droid carrier. Sick with loathing, he watched its purposeful plummet toward the undefended planet.

The Ghost King could feel, trembling on the edge of his awareness, a sense of what had transpired on Kothlis. If he opened himself, he'd feel it completely. The Force would show him in intimate, merciless detail; would plunge him deep inside the pain and the terror and the death that lay distant and waiting that he, Ahsoka and Skywalker must stop.

He kept himself rigorously closed. At times like this, empathy was a curse.

Though most of his attention was focused beyond the Resolute's bridge, some small part of his mind was aware of every being behind him, every conversation, every half-formed thought, every bead of sweat trickling down spines, tickling ribs, and sticking hair to foreheads. This was a fine crew, one of the Republic's best, but they were organic, not programmed droids. Beneath their disciplined veneers they were afraid.

I could be afraid, too, if I permitted it. But I can't. Fear is a luxury I cannot afford.

Yularen joined him. "Your tightbeamed orders are received and understood, Commander. Give the word and we'll get this mission under way."

Give the word…such a small, innocuous phrase. Give the word. How many Clones would die today because he gave the word? How many more would be born in their sterile containers on Kamino, subjected to accelerated maturation and comprehensive conditioning, because he gave the word?

He felt a sudden stabbing ache behind his eyes, and whipped his head back to Kothlis to stare out of the viewport with wide eyes. For one single moment, Nico felt something dark in the Force on that planet, not the Separatist armies or the war, but something truly dark, but then it disappeared, it wasn't as strong as Dooku, but it wasn't as weak as Ventress. The Ghost King frowned, whatever it was, it's gone now. Nico rolled his eyes, it was probably nothing.

Nico shook his head slightly and looked back to the Admiral. Yularen, a patient man, was waiting for him to speak. With a nod he said, "The word is given, Admiral."

"Commander," said Yularen, and raised a hand. It was the only sign his crew needed. As his Officers prepared for battle, a junior Officer sprinted for the bridge transport, heading for the starfighter flight deck. She carried with her a brief, portentous command.

Gold Squadron, you have a go.

And then it would start, the fighting and the dying.

Nico sighed, Be careful, Skywalker.

As much as the son of Hades hated to admit it, the idiot has sort of grown on him over these past few months, like an older brother, just like how Jango used to be. And it feels…good, he couldn't exactly describe it in any other way, but he didn't want this good feeling to leave him.

He could feel Yularen's considering gaze. "General Skywalker's an extraordinary pilot, Commander. Don't forget that."

Sympathy, from Wullf Yularen? It wasn't what he'd expected. They had a tense and untrustworthy relationship, but acted cordial when around Skywalker and the crew and worked well together when the situation demanded it. He was too disciplined, too professional, to allow his doubts to interfere with his duties, but they did shape his attitude. And yet here he was, offering an awkward, odd kind of comfort.

Odder still, I do feel comforted.

Nico nodded. "I know, Admiral. He's the best pilot I've ever seen, the best pilot we've got."

But if our best isn't good enough…

In the silence they waited. Two very different men, twinned by a single purpose, their differences set aside to serve the greater good.

And then-a sharpening of the Force. A leaping in his blood. The light side dazzled, beating back the dark. Beside him Yularen released a reverent sigh as he stared through the bridge's transparisteel window on the galaxy.

"They stop my heart, you know," the Admiral said softly. Surprisingly. "Every time I see them they stop my heart."

Sleek and lethal, beautiful in their killing way, Gold Squadron's starfighters speared through the void beyond the viewport. Nico, reluctantly agreeing with Yularen's unexpected sentiment, felt his own heart thud as he kept his Force-enhanced gaze on the lead fighter, on Anakin, tearing toward the Separatists at the head of his pack. He could feel Skywalker's exhilaration in flying, his fierce joy at the thought of crushing this impudent, implacable enemy.

That fierce joy made the Ghost King frown. Somewhere, somehow, Anakin had discovered…not a taste for killing. No. Never that. But certainly a taste for vengeance. He'd learned to find pleasure in making an enemy pay for his crimes. He was becoming a lot like Boba…a lot like Reaper.

Nico smirked humourlessly at the thought of Boba, when he had given that holopad to the young bounty hunter Nico wanted to laugh so hard at his shock. But Nico knew what he did was risky, the Chancellor had given that to him because of the fact that he was Reaper, when someone wants to 'sue' him for his crimes against the Republic he could just use that and get out of the annoying lawsuits, but now, if someone wanted to 'sue' him…well, he was screwed, to put it simply.

Movement to starboard caught his distracted attention. Hammer Squadron, fleeing the safety of Pioneer's hangers, was following Gold Squadron to tangle with the Separatist starfighters. Moments later, to port, Arrow Squadron surged out of Coruscant Sky. Three full complements of fighters, the pilots of each metal canister a thin skin's distance from death.

Yularen gave his conn Officer the nod, then turned. "Commander. We'll be in assault position shortly."

The Resolute was under way, ponderously heading for Kothlis, flanked by her sister cruisers and trusting to Anakin and his fearless pilots that they wouldn't come to grief before they could defend themselves. Some of the droid starfighter's had broken off their prowling perimeter patrol of his battle group and were heading for the first wave of Republic fighters, heading for Skywalker, recklessly in the lead.

"Thank you, Admiral."

Streams of laserfire, blinking bright, crisscrossed the dark of space. Jinking and swooping, rolling and evading, Skywalker and his Clone pilots dodged destruction by a finger's width. Four droid starfighters exploded in durasteel splinters and shards and slag.

"Commander-" Yularen was frowning. "When do you anticipate launching the gunships?"

Nico couldn't take his eyes of the battle in front of him, the amount of bright red and blue lasers looking like an art-form. "I don't know yet. As soon as I do, I'll tell you."

Yularen cleared his throat. "That's…a little vague for my liking."

"Really, Admiral?" Nico made himself look at Yularen and smile with quiet confidence. Through the Force he heard a Clone pilot scream. "I don't find it vague at all."

Line break

"Stang!" Anakin cursed, and scraped under the rolling belly of a shattered droid ship. "Careful, Gold Seven! Watch where you're shooting!"

It didn't matter that Flashpoint couldn't hear him. Yelling helped, so he yelled. The modified Vulture starfighters were swarming them like enraged wasps. Best he could count, his people were outnumbered two-to-one.

But we've faced worse odds. We can do this. We can get the job done.

He'd made six kills in four minutes.

A Republic fighter streamed past his line of sight, hotly pursued by a pair of enemy ships.

"Look out, Arrow Nine, you've got two on your-"

The Vultures fired, lethally accurate, and Arrow Nine's fighter disintegrated into fire and smoke. Punched through the Force he felt Stinger's fury, his brief, intense pain. No. No. the Clone pilot's death echoed through him, blinding. And then there wasn't time to feel anything because three droid ships were on him-where did they come from?-and he was fighting to escape them, fighting his own whipping speed and trajectory, while they kept him pinned among them. Stang, they were good-who programmed these barves? I want to meet him in a dark Coruscant alley-and suddenly flying a fighter in combat wasn't much fun anymore…

Fireball saved him.

Screaming out of a turn that should've been too tight for his fighter's structural tolerance, feeling like he was holding the ship together with the Force and desperation, flying through the vulture debris Fireball left in his wake, Anakin caught a glimpse of the Resolute from the corner of his eye. Laserfire streamed from the cruiser's gun turrets, welcome annihilation of the Separatists advantage. Flicking his gaze farther around, he saw that Pioneer and Coruscant Sky were pounding the Separatist warships as they headed for Kothlis's meagre asteroid belt, diverting the Separatist resources from the desperately battling fighter squadrons.

And then Fireball dropped beside him so they were flying tandem, just for a moment. Turning his head, looking past smoke-scorched R2-D2, Anakin raised an acknowledging hand, thumb uplifted. Fireball's teeth flashed in a swift smile, and then he was peeling away to chase another droid starfighter.

Anakin shook himself. Good idea. You're not a tourist, Skywalker.

Hammer Two shot past his fighter's nose, a silent shout of panic blistering through the Force. Smoke belched from Wingnut's sublight drive and his cockpit canopy was bubbled in a wide streak, obscuring line of sight. Two droid starfighters pursued him, lethal projectiles spewing equally lethal plasma. Wingnut's fighter was struggling, pitching; its starboard stabilizer shot, his R4 unit a smoking ruin-and the droids were gaining-gaining-

No. No. Not Wingnut. He only joined us a month ago.

Grimly determined, he plunged his own fighter into the vultures' path, throwing the machine into a tight spin, hammering its laser controls so his weapons spewed death in a wildly expanding arc. The incendiary plasma sliced the droid starfighters to ragged, spinning pieces. One chunk grazed R2 on its way past, and the cockpit datapad lit up with a hysterical protest.

"Sorry!" he shouted through the spark-singed canopy. "My mistake!"

Wrenching the controls, he flipped his fighter right-side up again-or what counted as right-side up in this crazy fight-and tried to find Wingnut. There he was-limping back to Pioneer. Hammer Eight was covering him, keeping the tinnies off his smoking tail.

Stang, stang, speaking of tinnies…

His cockpit sensors screamed a warning, four of the enemy heading right for him. Where were they coming from? Every time he killed one, three more popped up in its place.

Space and time blurred and the void filled with explosions and shards and narrow misses and voices in the Force: his pilots, laughing and swearing and howling to their deaths. He laughed and swore and howled along with them, the silence unbearable.

Kill, kill, and kill again, slaughter the starfighters, slaughter the Tuskens, every loss is the same loss, every pain springs from one source. Save Kothlis, save Coruscant, save Padme. Save them all.

Line break

Sunk deep within the Force, subordinating what his eyes could see to what his senses told him, Nico watched Anakin and his pilots savage the Separatist fleet-and watched the droid starfighters savage them in return. Someone on the Separatist's side had clearly tinkered with the vultures' operating systems; there was no Droid Control Ship in the enemy battle group, yet the enemy fighters were functioning with fluid efficiency.

Great. Another mechanical thing to distract Skywalker.

Observing from outside himself, peculiarly detached within the Force's ebb and flow, he watched the three Venator Class Republic warships add their might to the fray, weapons cleaving through enemy fighters and debris alike. And as he watched the furious battle, at once set apart from it and deeply involved, he felt Clone pilots die. Felt Anakin's rage and grief for them. Felt his own grief, muted. Felt an echo of Ahsoka, still young and perfecting her mastery of the light side's strength, attempting to follow Skywalker's progress from their gunship on the Resolute's hanger deck.

Participant and witness, he stood before the bridge's viewport, waiting for the signal he knew would come. Not yet-not yet-not yet-

Yes. Now.

He saw Gold Squadron worry fleeing droid starfighters to pieces. Saw Hammer and Arrow Squadrons set their sights on the enemy flagship. Felt Anakin's drenching relief. Heard his calm voice, clear a shout.

Go, Emo-Ninja. Tell Yularen it's now or never.

Nico rolled his eyes and turned. "That's a go, Admiral. Maximum sublight. Get us down to that planet."

"Done," said Yularen, his deep voice ripe with a violent satisfaction and his eyes just a little wide with the reminder of Jedi powers. "Captain!"

Behind them, needing no further prompting, the conn Officer leapt to his duty. A heartbeat later Resolute shuddered, her sublight engines powering them toward Kothlis and the beings trapped planetside who were desperate for their help.

Nico stepped back from the bridge viewport. It was time for him to join Ahsoka, Rex, and Torrent Company.

"Good hunting, Commander," said Yularen, his eyes fierce, his face grim. "You'll hear from me as soon as communications are restored."

If they were restored. Even now, Lieutenant Avrey was buried in Resolute's innards, attempting to graft into those antiquated anodes.

May the Force be with her.

With a nod to Yularen he made his measured way to the gunship hanger. Even cocooned within the cruiser he could feel the dull thudding of her massive laser cannons as they pounded the Separatist flagship and the smaller warships in there fleet. Through the Force he could feel the wrath of Pioneer and Coruscant Sky, the cruisers sister ships lending their voices to the chorus of destruction raining down upon the enemy.

Those tinnies should've stayed at home. Coming here was a mistake.

The elevator door opened and there was Ahsoka, hanging out of their gunship, her eyes enormous with impatient eagerness. Nico jogged across the crowded hanger deck, threading through the other waiting, Clone-laden gunships, and leapt up beside her. Sparing Ahsoka a small, brief smile, he looked to Rex.

"Soup's on, Captain."

"Sir," said Rex, and reached into the cockpit to tap their helmeted pilot on the shoulder. The pilot smacked two console switches, and the interior lights came up to full. A second later the exterior shielding thumped into place. In the gunship's belly, crowded shoulder-to-shoulder, as many Torrent Company Clones as would fit in the troop compartment slammed their buckets on their heads, becoming eerily alien.

"Angel boy?" said Ahsoka, "Is Skyguy-I mean-"

"He's fine, Ahsoka," he said sternly. "Focus. Discipline your mind in preparation for battle."

Ahsoka blinked and frowned but nodded her head.

Nico knew he was being harsh, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't time to act like the nice Nico Di Angelo she's come to know, it was time to get serious, these men needed a leader, and Nico couldn't have anything clouding his mind, he couldn't have anything make him look weak in front of these men that he's leading into battle.

A triple flash of red lights reflected on faces and flat surfaces as the hanger's launch beacon lit up in warning. Not needing to be told, the pilots fired up their engines. The throaty roar was echoed by the gunships on either side of them.

"Better hang on, Commander," said Rex. "That soup you mentioned has started to boil." With a nod to Ahsoka, he grabbed his own helmet and vanished inside it.

"Right," Nico said, snatching hold of a ceiling strap.

Rex's terse words tautened the gunship's atmosphere to the breaking point. The silence beneath all the normal operational noises was absolute, uncanny. Ever Clone stood with unnerving stillness, head tipped fractionally to one side. They were unified in a private conversation, attention trained on their Captain. Last-minute instructions, a rallying pep talk, some kind of Clone prayer? Nico didn't know. He'd never asked. The idea of asking felt-intrusive. Insensitive. Impolite.

"Weird, isn't it?" Ahsoka whispered confidingly. "I'm used to it now-but I'm kind of not, too."

He gave her a half smile. "I know what you mean."

The hanger doors were fully open, their exterior shields still engaged. Staring over the pilot's shoulder and out through the cockpit viewport, he could see they were close to their target, Kothlis. Just the asteroid belt left to negotiate, and then the steep plunge through the planet's thin upper atmosphere. Resolute shouldered her way between the suspended chunks of rock, blasting some aside, taking the path of least resistance where she could by using the route carved out by the Separatist's droid troop carriers.

Closing his eyes, Nico sought for Anakin in the Force. He was there, still in one piece, leading the surviving pilots in a ruthless chivvying of the Separatist's warships and droid starfighters, drawing their fire away from the Jedi cruisers, giving them the best possible chance of reaching the planet unscathed.

Satisfied that Skywalker was-and would be-all right, at least for the time being, he turned his senses to Kothlis. What he felt, so close now, tightened his throat and his belly and flared the banked fires of pain behind his ears to bright, angry life.

Terror. Agony. Bewilderment. Despair…Darkness.

Breathing harshly, he turned aside-and saw that Ahsoka was struggling to contain her own undisciplined reaction to the overwhelming sensations and emotions boiling through the Force. As Resolute plowed through the planet's upper atmosphere, the heat of re-entry burning all around them, Nico shook of the feeling of someone adept in the dark side of the Force being on that planet and the strict no nonsense routine, and interwined his fingers with Ahsoka's.

"You've opened yourself too wide, Princess," He said, squeezing her hand gently. "You've let yourself be overcome. Tighten your mind. Restrict the Force's flow. Control the amount and the speed of what you're seeing and feeling. You must never let it control you. That way lies madness, and a fall to the dark side."

The teenage Togruta was trembling, her eyes squeezed tight shut. So distressed she barely noticed Nico took her hand. In the gunship's dull illumination Nico thought he saw a tear escape between her extravagant lashes and trickle down her cheek.

"I can't-Nico, I can't-"

"Yes, you can," he insisted. "Your powerful in the Force, Ahsoka. Control yourself."

"Yes-yes-" said Ahsoka, and opened her eyes. In her face a new and formidable determination. "You're right, I can do this."

Nico felt a surge in the Force as she exerted control. Ahsoka exhaled on long breath as she regained her emotional balance. Impressed, Nico grinned, and let go of her hand. "Well done, Princess." He said, turning around, missing the disappointed look Ahsoka had when he let go of her hand.

"Commander Di Angelo!" their pilot said over his shoulder. "Hanger shields are disengaged."

"Then let's go, Lieutenant," The Ghost King replied. "We've kept the people of Kothlis waiting long enough."

Line break

The gunships launched in swift succession, bursting free of the Republic cruisers like akk dogs slipped from their leashes. Watching ship after ship dive toward the stricken planet's surface, Anakin allowed himself one brief, distracted thought-May the Force be with you both-and then banished the ground assault troops from his mind entirely. Nico, Ahsoka, and Rex's men had their battle to win, and he had his. Worrying about them now would easily get him or his own people killed.

The cockpit console datapad lit up with a new message from R2-D2: Still no comms. Comms not active.

"I know, I know," he muttered. "Believe me, I've noticed." Come one, Avrey. What's taking you so long? "Hang in there, R2. We're doing all right without them." So far.

A partially damaged droid starfighter attempted to lock on him. Braking hard, flipping end over end, he blew it to pieces then took a moment for a quick head count.

Twenty-three starships, excluding himself. With Wingnut back on board Pioneer that meant-

Twelve. I've lost twelve.

There was no time to feel it. New droid starfighters were pouring out of the Sep warships-What, they've got an on board foundry now?-heading in a direct line for Kothlis, the cruisers and all those Clone-laden gunships. Scarab fighters this time, configured to kill just as easily in atmosphere as airless space.

So you've run out of Vultures? Does that mean we killed them all? Hey, sorry about that.

Another glance showed him the last of the gunships, plunging out of sight. Showed him the enemy Scarabs swarming after them, bent on destruction. He turned his fighter sharply to port and executed a tight barrel roll to get Fireball's attention. The Captain's gloved hand waved, acknowledging, so he flipped himself under a raggedly floating debris field and waggled his tail at a cluster of his people on its far side. Message received, his men formed up behind him. A hunting pack they were now, scenting fresh blood and eager for the kill. Soaked in the Force, his blood scalding with adrenaline, he set his sights on the scarabs, opened his fighter's throttle to maximum velocity-

-and attacked.

You're dead. You're dead. Every last one of you is dead.

The battle consumed him. The void of space fell away. Flesh became metal, thought burst into flame. The boundaries between space and time disappeared. Dissolved within the Force, he surrendered to the moment.

Resolute, Pioneer, and Coruscant Sky joined him in battle. Like the warship's of old, planetbound, on wide seas, they sailed the void's astral winds and pounded the Sep warships with proton torpedoes and laser blasts. Fire bloomed and died on both sides, its incandescence fleeting. The pilots of Gold Squadron, his Hammers and his Arrows, flung themselves at the enemy so the enemy would not prevail.

Sight-chase-kill. Sight-chase-kill. Over and over and over and-

Arrow Six gone. Hammer Leader gone. Gold Four gone. Arrow Three gone.

It's war. It's what happens. Don't think of them. Not now.

Scarab gone. Scarab gone. Scarab gone. Scarab gone.

The Force showed him the Separatist Neimodian General, railing on his bridge. Showed him Nico and Ahsoka, fighting back-to-back. Showed him Admiral Yularen, giving orders to conn Officers.

It shows me myself. It shows me victorious.

Line break

"Look out!" Ahsoka shouted. "Soldier, look out!"

The Clone whose name she didn't know couldn't hear her. He was going to die. Locked in her own life-or-death struggle, deflecting a volley of blaster bolts from an oncoming droid on a STAP, nicked and singed and scorched in half a dozen places, Ahsoka reached through the chaos, reached for the Force, and pushed the Clone sideways as a stream of plasma sizzled the air where he was standing.

I saw that! I saw it! Before it happened, I saw it!

A burst of elation gave her a fresh punch of strength. Her lightsaber a green blur in front of her, she leapt to meet the droid on its STAP and slashed both machines in half with a single swiping blow. Her Force-enhanced jump carried her up and over the spinning debris, up and over three charred Clone troopers she couldn't save, a blood-soaked clot of civilians she couldn't save, and into the path of four shielded droidekas.

Four against one? That's not fair!

She reached for the Force again-and suddenly that was harder: she was getting tired-and desperately pulled half a high stone wall down on the machines. Not even their enhanced shields could save them. Flattened, they sparked and spat and died.

Taking a moment to breathe and swipe the sweat from her face, she took a wild look around Tal'cara's plaza. Before the Seps it must've been a pretty place. Now it was smoke and ruins; pools of blood and rubble were strewn everywhere, surrounded by shorting power cables and burst water pipes pretending to be fountains: The air was thickly hazed with stinking smoke. It seemed the Sep droids had been given one order: Kill everything that bleeds. With brutal efficiency they were doing just that.

Nico wasn't here. He'd ordered her and Rex and others into the fray, then left her to cope while he and his own Clone detachment headed for the strategically crucial spinet facility. She didn't mind, it meant he trusted her, but she couldn't help worrying-for him.

The idiot better not get hurt.

A sharp shock of foreknowledge spun her around, lightsaber raised and ready. Three pounding heartbeats later two more STAPs screamed up and over a partly demolished dress shop. The droids driving them caught sight of her and started firing, a blood-red volley of zipping laser bolts back on the droids, exploding them into a shower of sparks and spare parts.

All around the plaza, Clones from Torrent Company fought the entrenched Sep forces. As well as the STAPs, super battle droids thudded their emotionless, methodical way through the crumbling buildings and across the open spaces, smashing the statues, crushing the flowers in their scattered beds, splintering and torching the blossomed trees, firing blasters and launching grenades. Destruction and desolation-the Seps' stock in trade.

Right now they only had one gunship for air support, and Torrent Company's Clones were taking a beating. With their comms still jammed-stang, she wanted to know how the Sep's were doing it-there was no choice but for the other gunships to insert and fly off to make individual sitrep assessments of the enemy's strength and troop disposition. It was a crazy way to run a war.

And not a very likely way to win it.

But she wasn't going to think about that.

Everywhere she looked beyond the plaza she could see columns of thick black smoke streaming into the hot summer sky. A light breeze swirled, bringing with it the stink of burning things, the faint screams of living-dying-beings, the thud-thud of concussive weapons, the higher-pitched zap-zap-zap of lasers.

Overhead, their lone shielding gunship opened fire. A Sep battery fired back-oh no, oh no-the gunship was belching red and black smoke. She saw two Clones plummet from its half-open belly, saw the gunship spin like a lassoed wild nerf. And then it plunged toward the ground, disappearing behind an obscuring belt of trees. A loud boom. A plume of flame. She felt the deaths jolt through her. Felt pain and tears and pushed both deep inside.

Off to her left a Clone screamed, his voice muffled in his helmet. She turned, just in time to see someone else die in a weltering spray of bright scarlet blood. The super battle droid that had killed him trod on him afterward and kept walking. A sob rose in her throat but she choked it down. She had to stay focused, she had to-

Another STAP buzzed out of hiding toward her. Head spinning, heart racing, she flipped herself up and over its droid-rider's head, lightsaber extended, swinging, slicing around to dismember the machines.

And then in the final split second, acting on a half-thought impulse, she changed the angle of her blow. Her lightsaber decapitated the droid, sent its head spinning right and its gangly body tumbling left. Guided by the Force she landed lightly on the STAP, booted feet thudding onto the footrests, free hand catching hold of the handle. The STAP dipped and whined, protesting, but she wasn't much heavier than a droid and it held her weight.

The super battle droids never saw her coming.

"Good job, little'un," said Rex, breathing harshly as he looked up at her swaying, slip-sliding STAP. His white armour was scorched in a score of places. Smears of blood streaked the length of his right arm, leaking from the joint at his shoulder plate. More blood trickled from beneath his chest plate and down his left thigh. He was favouring that leg, a lot. A Clone soldier, Checkers, his helmet recklessly discarded, hovered beside him. He was bleeding, like Rex, but not as badly. His chin and left hand were cut. His right arm was held out, ready to support his Captain. Ahsoka flashed him a swift smile, liking him enormously for it.

"Rex-you need to fall back." She said, scanning the plaza for more signs of droid activity. Incredibly, for the moment, it seemed they were alone. "In case you haven't noticed, you're hurt."

"I'm not the only one," said Rex. The strain in his distorted voice was the worst she'd ever heard it. "I've got men here who need-"

The concussive boom of the nearby explosion made the warm air shudder and sent the STAP bucking wildly. Ahsoka bit off a startled cry and wrestled her aerial platform under control, steadying it with a twist of Force push. All around the plaza broken windows broke free of their sashes and smashed to the buckled ground. Loose bricks followed them. Dust rose in choking, billowing clouds.

"I know, Rex," she said, coughing and spluttering. "You've got men who need medical assistance. Get the wounded undercover while you can. Better yet, barricade yourselves in somewhere. Who knows how soon before you get more company-and I think we're officially outnumbered. I'd help, but now that I've got this STAP I can go find a gunship to evac you out of here. Unless-" She snapped off her lightsaber, clipped it to her belt, then managed to activate the comlink in her gauntlet. "This is Ahsoka Tano calling Resolute. Admiral Yularen, do you copy? Gunship one, do you copy? Does anybody copy? Can anybody hear me?"

"It's no use," said Rex, his voice tight with pain and ruthlessly controlled concern. "Whatever bright idea they cooked up to fix the comm problem doesn't seem to be working. At least not yet. We're on our own, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka took another look around the plaza, and saw the surviving Clones, only a handful unscathed, heading from all directions toward their Captain. Many of them could only walk with assistance. Four being carried, too wounded to make it alone.

Oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad.

"I'm going to find Nico," she said, willing her voice to sound bold and confident. "And another gunship. I'm getting you out of here, Rex. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Rex, trying to sound like his unwounded self. He swayed, and Checkers grabbed him, keeping him on his feet.

She felt her throat close again. "You're not allowed to die. That's an order." She looked at the other Clones. "Is that clear, everyone? No more dying. It's against regulations."

"Ma'am, yes, Ma'am!" the surviving Clones of Torrent Company chorused.

"Checkers-"

"Ma'am?" he said, his voice tight with pain.

"Keep an eye on Captain Rex."

He nodded. "Ma'am, let's make that two eyes."

"Okay then," she said, touched close to tears. "Stay here. Stay safe. I'll be right back. I promise."

And before the Clones' courage broke her completely she wheeled the STAP away and gunned it out of the plaza in search of Nico, and help.

Line break

Slashing his lightsaber through yet another onrushing wall of droids, feeling the drain on his strength, the burn in his muscles, Nico blinked stinging sweat from his eyes.

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

"Commander Di Angelo!" shouted Lieutenant Treve, darting out of the corridor behind him. "Sir, they're about to break through the second containment line. I don't know how much longer we can hold them."

As the last droid collapsed at his feet Nico turned, breathing hard. The pain behind his eyes is vicious. He could definitely sense something of dark origin on this planet, the problem was, he couldn't pinpoint it. "We'll hold them as long as we have to, Treve. There's no alternative."

Treve took one look at the scattered bodies of the Bothans killed before Republic help arrived, thin pinged a finger to his helmet. "Yes, sir."

He didn't sound too confident. "Number of casualties?"

"Sorry, Commander. I've been too busy to count." Treve shook his head. "Maybe a third."

A third? He took a moment to ease his aching shoulders. "What about gunship support? How is it holding up?"

Even with his expression obscured by the helmet, Treve's discomfort was palpable. "Ah-"

He closed his eyes, briefly. "How many?"

"At our location? Four shot down. Two destroyed, two disabled." Treve shrugged. "Could be worse, sir."

Really? How? "So we've no air support at all?"

"Not quite," said Treve, grim again. "We've got six gunships still up there but they're finding it hard to break through the Sep defences."

Which would explain why he'd heard plenty of enemy fire, but hardly any friendly. He could hear it now, booming and blatting beyond the barricaded front doors. Muffled, but still too close. Hammering beneath it was the familiar dap-dap-dap of Republic blasters shouting in reply.

"Very well. Get back to the line. Tell the men to hold on. Reinforcements will reach us soon."

"Sir." Treve started to withdraw, then hesitated. "Commander-are you sure you're all right here on your own?"

Nico wiped the sweat from his face. Scattered around him were the remains of all the droids who'd so far failed to kill him. The spinet facility's anonymous entrance hall was starting to resemble a spare parts warehouse.

"I'm not dead yet, Lieutenant," he replied. "Get back to your post."

"Yes, Comman-"

The entrance hall's transparisteel skylight shattered, spraying them with high-velocity lethal shards a swarm of small and highly maneuverable remote droids, each armed with a miniaturised laser cannon and heat-seeking sensors, poured through the jagged hole.

"Stang!" Treve cursed. "Mosquitoes!" Raising his blaster he started to fire.

Nico felt his blood surge. Shockingly, his armour was pierced but there was no time for him to pull the slivers of transparisteel from his chest and arms and shoulder. No time to feel the white-hot-pain, to worry about severed nerves or tendons. Fight or die. That was the choice.

He fought.

Fed a trickle of fresh purpose by the Force, Nico danced with the mindless, murderous droids. He slashed and sliced and annihilated as many machines as he could reach, and flung more aside with his diminishing strength. The bloody things were tough, resilient. They bounced off the walls and floor and came right back at him, silent and deadly.

A choked cry and a clatter sounded somewhere to his right: Treve was down. Dead or dying. It was hard to see. The rain of transparisteel shards had cut his face and his forehead. His labouring heart pumped blood into his eyes.

No time for this. No time.

Frustrated, he smeared his vision almost clear as more remote droids streamed through the obliterated skylight. Why had the Kothlis Bothans allowed a fucking skylight in a place like this? Stupid, stupid. He couldn't kill all these droids. There was too much pain, he was too tired. But still-he had to try.

Cunning as wolves, the remote droids seemed to sense their advantage. So many swarmed him now he couldn't cleanly deflect every laser bolt. Fire seared his left thigh and he staggered sideways. His foot skidded on a piece of broken battle droid and he dropped hard to one knee.

A speeding STAP plunged through the smashed skylight, careering between Nico and the mass of remote droids. He brought up his lightsaber, ready to destroy it-then realised who was controlling the machine.

Ahsoka.

She rode the STAP like a circus performer, swooping and sliding, her lightsaber a green blur. She was scarcely a child like himself. But a lethal child…the droids were flying to pieces all around her.

Grinning, he regained his feet. Now, this was more like it. "Good timing, Princess!" he called to her, joining the fray.

"I do my best, Angel boy!" she said with a swift, cheeky smile. "Now what say we finish this? I've got better places to be!"

"Don't we all, Princess?" he retorted and moved in for the kill.

Perfectly orchestrated, he and Ahsoka took the fight to their enemy. The air filled with sparks and smoke, with the stink of burned metal and circuitry and the glorious hum of whirling lightsabers. Then a lucky droid blaster shot took out the STAP's antigrav projector. Ahsoka somersaulted gracefully off the falling machine and with a hard Force push smashed it through a flock of the remotes.

"Inventive," Nico remarked as Ahsoka leapt to him. "Skywalker would approve."

"That's the idea," she said, whirling to press her back to his back, a classic defensive move. "Can you please remember to tell him?"

Oh, she was cheeky all right. It seems I've been rubbing off on her. "You can tell him yourself. Now let's finish this, shall we?"

Panting, bleeding, they redoubled their efforts.

When it was over, the last droid sliced apart, Nico checked on Lieutenant Treve. He knew what he'd find, but he also knew that it was important to touch the man and feel the flesh.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Ahsoka asked. Sweat and smoke masked her face and turned her ocean blue eyes sapphire-brilliant. Her voice wasn't quite steady.

He straightened, suddenly so weary. "Yes."

Seeing it-most likely feeling it-Ahsoka took a step toward him then stopped. Cheekiness vanished now, and grief rushed to take its place. "We've got a lot of troopers in trouble back in the central plaza, too," she said, almost whispering, sounding dazed. "And the communications still aren't working. If we don't get help-"

"I know. We're in quite a bit of trouble." Then he frowned at her. "And speaking of being in trouble, your arrival was very lucky, Princess. How did you find me?"

Ahsoka blinked and regained a little self-possession. "Um…well, really, it wasn't that hard. You kind of light up the Force like a bonfire, Angel boy. Almost as bright as Skyguy."

Now it was his turn to blink. "Oh."

Beneath the dirt and blood of battle, Ahsoka blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" Her eyes widened on a gasp. "Hey! Can you feel that? It's-"

Skywalker.

He didn't even bother trying to hide his relief or smother his smile. "Come on. This way."

She sprinted after him down the corridor and out of the spinet facility, bursting through an exterior door into the debris-littered loading dock where the second containment line had been established, at high cost.

It hadn't broken yet.

But the Clones weren't fighting, they were staring and pointing into the smoky Kothlis sky, where the fighters from Gold, Hammer, and Arrow squadrons, along with five gunships, pounded the remainder of the Separatist's invasion force to scrap metal.

Dizzy with relief, Nico watched Anakin finish what they'd started. And with this welcome respite from worry, he became aware of his exhaustion and the pains loudly clamouring for his attention. He heard an oddly distorted voice, calling his name.

"Commander! Commander Di Angelo! Do you copy?"

Yularen.

Stratled, he slapped the comlink on his arm. "Admiral! What's happening?"

"It's over up here, Commander. The Separatist's are on the run-thanks to a little help from Coryx Moth-and regular communications are restored, at least for the moment. What's your status?

His status? I've had better days. "We're still standing. Skywalker and his fighters are mopping up now. Admiral, I've got-"

"Medevacs are on their way, Commander."

And the relief of that made him weak at the knees. So many men lost and wounded. Now that he'd stopped fighting he could feel through the Force dreadful echoes of death, of searing pain. His belly churned a warning and sour saliva flooded his mouth. He spat it out. The only good thing is that he couldn't feel that dark presence anymore. He then raised his comlink again.

"Tell them to hurry, Admiral. What about the Kothlis ruling Council? Have we heard-"

"Wiped out, I'm afraid. I've alerted the Senate-they're contacting Bothawui now. And they'll be sending a civilian disaster relief team ASAP. Hold on, Commander Di Angelo. It's nearly over.

It was a moment before he could he could trust himself to speak. Beside him, Ahsoka was trying to pretend she wasn't flooded with hard-to-control emotions.

"Thank you, Admiral. I'll see you soon."

"I don't believe it," said Ahsoka. She sounded dazed. "I didn't really think we could-that we could-" her voice broke. "Rex is really hurt. A lot of Torrent Company's really hurt. And-and dead. I tried to protect them, Nico. I tried to-but there were so many droids.

Nico looked at her, aware of a tired triumph as Anakin and his team pinpointed the last stubborn Sep fighters. Ahsoka looked as depressed as when she lost her first squadron of fighters over Ryloth, sad and depressed. "I know, Princess. Don't worry. The medevac transports will be-" He frowned. The Togruta Padawan was holding her left side. He realised, too late, that she was hurt. He could hear her breath coming out in suddenly difficult gasps and saw, beneath her pressing fingers, a vicious, spreading bruise where he clothes has been torn.

Furious with himself, he reached for her. "Ahsoka!"

"Ah-Angelo boy-" Abruptly a child again, she looked at him, puzzled. "Oh. I don't feel so good," she whispered…and fainted, a dead weight, into his arms.

Line break

Aside from the expected battle aftermath clatter and bustle, and the distant wailing of civilian disaster sirens, the first thing Anakin heard as he made his way onto the spynet facility's loading dock was Ahsoka, indignantly protesting.

"No, no, I'm fine, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me. You need to check on Captain Rex and the others, there's nothing wrong with me, it's just a bruise. And I didn't faint, I-I tripped."

The second thing he heard was the impatient voice of the Ghost King.

"Ahsoka, be quiet. Captain Rex and his men are in good hands already. Besides, it's not a bruise, it's three fractured ribs, which means-ow!"

Ow? Oh, great. They've done it again.

Threading a path between hurrying medics and Clone troopers and scattered bits of droid parts, Anakin let the Force guide him to where he needed to be.

Nico and Ahsoka sat side by side on crates in a hastily setup triage area, just outside an entrance into the spinet building. One Clone medic was encasing his singed and smoke-stained Padawan's torso in an inflatable brace, and another was attempting to extract a wicked-long shard of shattered transparisteel from Nico's chest plate. Several more shards were deeply embedded in both arms and his right shoulder. He looked like an extremely cranky pincushion.

"Commander, please stay completely still," said the medic, sounding harried. "I don't want to hurt you any more than I-"

"Can I help?" Anakin said, joining them.

Ahsoka's pain-pinched face lit up. "Master! You're all right!"

"Of course I am, snips," he said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

His bored tone was designed to reassure her, but it wasn't working, as the answer to his flip question was lying all around them: triaged Clone troopers, most stoically silent, waiting for the next medevac flight to arrive. Beyond them, decently shrouded, lay bodies of those men who hadn't been so fortunate. And then, of course, there were the men who'd died going up against the droid starfighters.

"Skywalker," said Nico, sarcastic as always. "There you are at last, you missed the party." He then turned smiled. "Nico work."

Anakin nodded. "You, too. Ah-should I ask what happened?"

"What happened is that Princess here arrived just in time and helped save the day."

"She did?" with his initial burst of relief fading, seeing them both more or less unscathed, Anakin felt a rush of pride. "Of course she did. She's my Padawan."

The Clone medic treating Ahsoka sealed the brace. "Stay put and breath shallowly. No fancy Jedi moves for the time being, or chances are you'll end up with a tension pneumothorax. A collapsed lung," he added, noting his patient's blank stare. "As of right now, Padawan Tano, you're officially out of commission."

Ahsoka frowned. "Wonderful."

She was awfully pallid beneath all the grime. And hurting a lot-Anakin could feel it. "No internal injuries?"

"There's a lot of bruising, sir," said the medic. "A few broken ribs, but no organ damage I can detect. Although, as I say, that could change if she tries anything clever."

Anakin scowled at his Padawan. "Trust me, she won't. How did it happen, anyway?"

"I don't really remember," Ahsoka said, shifting uncomfortably on the crate. "There was a lot going on. Except-there was this one super battle droid I tangled with on the way here from the plaza…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Just one?"

"Oh no, there were lots of SBDs," she said, as the medic pressed a spray injector to the inside crook of her elbow and hissed some drug or other into her bloodstream. "But only one of them was a problem."

He looked at Nico. Please, tell me I'm not this cocky. Nico, his face cut in several places and streaked with dried blood, merely rolled his eyes.

"You're sure my Padawan's going to be fine?" Anakin asked the medic.

"No reason to think otherwise, sir," the medic said, allowing a little unprofessional sympathy to show. "Provided she gets to a proper medfacility sooner rather than later."

"She will. Now, about Commander Di Angelo…"

The medic treating Nico cleared his throat. "The Commander's life might not be in danger, sir, but I still really need to get this transparisteel out of him. It's not what you'd call hygienic." He looked down. "So, Commander, if you could please keep still and stop talking, that would be helpful."

"Yeah, yeah, all right," Nico muttered, hating the fuss. Refusing to admit any kind of physical weakness. "But hurry up. I can't sit here all day."

"Nico, you can sit there for as long as the medics need you to," said Anakin, and turned to the harassed Clone. "Have you scanned him? Is there any arterial involvement? Or nerve damage?"

"No nerve damage, no compromised arteries," said the medic. "There's a tendon that's not looking too cheerful, but we can take care of it once these transparisteel splinters are out of him."

"You're having some trouble with that?"

"A bit," the medic admitted. "They're stuck in him real good and if I use brute force to pull them out, I'll do more damage than they did going in."

"Please don't," Nico said with a scowl. "I've wasted enough time as it is."

Ignoring him, Anakin frowned thoughtfully. "Right. I get the picture. Look, I don't mean to tread on your toes but do you mind if I try something?"

The medic stood back. "Be my guest, General Skywalker."

"Skywalker, what are you doing?" Nico demanded. "We both know you're not a healer. Just leave this to the exp-"

"Shut up," he said mildly. "You're distracting me."

As Nico opened his mouth in comical surprise, the medics exchanged amused glanced. Ahsoka stifled a giggle.

"Fine," said Nico with poor grace, defeated. "But whatever you intend to do, get on with it. Captain Drayk and Sergeants Ven and Ando are coordinating what's left of our troops but I need to get back out there. It's going to take hours to clean up the mess the Separatists have left behind."

"Don't worry about that now," he said, and dropped to a crouch in front of the son of Hades. "Drayk's a good Officer. Just relax, clear you're mind, shut up, and don't fight me."

Resting his gloved human fingers on Nico's forearm, Anakin closed his eyes and breathed out long and slow. Allowing the Force to rise within him, warm and familiar, he let it show him the shape of eight transparisteel splinters still lodged in Nico's body. Nasty. Painful. It was nothing short of a miracle they hadn't severed nerves of sliced major blood vessels, which meant Nico would heal as good as new once the shards were removed.

He lifted his hand and opened his eyes. Focusing the power of the Force, he summoned the first piercing splinter out of Nico's chest.

"Sorry," he murmured, as the former Sith Lord grunted. "This is going to sting a bit. Hold on…hold on…"

Dimly, he was aware of his fascinated audience: Ahsoka, the two medics, the less seriously wounded Clones. All of them stared as he eased the shard of transparisteel out of vulnerable flesh and the armour that had failed to protect it. Bloody, the splinter of transparisteel clattered to the oil-stained ground.

He smiled. Excellent. "Okay. One down, seven to go."

Nico rolled his eyes. "Great."

When the final shard was safely extracted, he rose from his crouch and got out of the way. Warm and comforting, the Force resonated through him. Pride, too, for a difficult task perfectly executed. The medic moved in, stripping off Nico's armour and tugging him out of his spoiled Jedi tunic. Then he slapped a succession of pressure pads on each seemingly insignificant puncture wound.

"Commander, wriggle your fingers for me," he ordered, tapping Nico's right hand. It was the tendon in his right forearm that was the cause for concern. "Then make a fist."

Grimacing, Nico obeyed. "That feels fine."

"Looks fine, too," said the medic, patently relieved. "I think you dodged a blaster bolt this time, Commander."

"Actually, I dodged a lot more than one," said Nico as he eased himself back into his scorched and bloodstained tunic. "Thank you, Sergeant. Now perhaps you could turn your attention to those among us who aren't merely scratched."

"Yes, sir," the medic replied. "But let's get one thing straight, Commander-those aren't just scratches and you need to take care of them properly."

Anakin grinned. "Don't worry. I'll make sure he's sorted out."

"Thank you, General Skywalker," said the medic, and moved aside with his partner to confer quietly about their other charges.

"Master," Ahsoka said, heavy-eyed and starting to droop from the crushing fatigue that followed injury and the crazed intensity of battle. "They've sent Rex and the others to Kaliida Shoals. Can I go after them? They've got regular med droids there, they can fix my ribs while I'm waiting. And-well-" she bit her lip. "I think it'd mean a lot to the men, if one of us was there. Of course, if you need me here…"

Rex. "How bad is he, Ahsoka?"

"Bad, I think," she whispered. "Sergeant Coric, too. Lots of them are bad."

Nico was on his feet, favouring his blaster-burned leg. Had he let the medic take care of it? It didn't feel like it. Typical.

"I don't see anything wrong with letting her go, Skywalker," he said softly. "She's got to be treated somewhere. And she's right about a Jedi presence helping morale. Besides, with so many of our healers deployed to the front lines it'll ease the workload on the Temple."

Anakin nodded. "True."

"Anyway, neither you or I will be rushing back into action anytime soon," Nico added. "There'll be significant fallout from this affair."

There surely would be. With industrial espionage in at least one Republic shipyard, striking at the heart of the war effort…

Anakin sighed and looked at Ahsoka. "Fine. You can go. But I want to be kept informed of Torrent Company's status. Don't make me chase you for updates, is that clear?"

She managed to smile. "Yes, Master. Thank you."

"And Ahsoka…" He felt his heart thud. "Tell Rex-tell all of them-that anything less than a full recovery is unacceptable."

Ahsoka's smile got a little wider. "I will. Don't worry."

Another medevac ship was coming in, the sound beating against his eardrums, bouncing off the nearby walls and the litter-strewn ground. The wind whipped up by its careful descent tugged his hair and his tunic and rattled the body bags and drove the dust into the eys of the helpless wounded.

"Your ride's here." Anakin rested his hand on her head. "Go. Get yourself healed. You did well today, Ahsoka. I'm proud of you."

"I just did what you taught me, Skyguy." Then she swallowed. "Was it bad-you know, up there?"

He looked away. The medevac was grounded now, spilling more medics to help with the casualties. "Bad enough. Some people didn't make it." He then shook his head, and looked back at his Padawan, "Anyway, you've already got a job to do," he said sternly. "You're no good to me with broken ribs, Ahsoka. Or a collapsed lung."

"They won't be broken for long," she said, wrinkling her nose. "And my lungs are fine. So don't you get used to being without me, Skyguy."

She was teasing him, but the jab struck a nerve. He was used to having her around now. Maybe even had started to rely on her, a little bit.

Stang. When did that happen? Last time I looked I didn't want a Padawan.

He nodded at the medevac, which was preparing to leave again, burdened with the living and the lost. "They're not going to wait for you. Go on, get out of her. We'll talk again soon."

"We'd better," Ahsoka retorted, and made her slow, painful way to the transport.

Escaped from the medic, Nico joined him. "She really did save me, you know," he said while they watched the medevac ship dwindle out of sight. "As did you."

Anakin grinned. "Again."

"Oh, so we're keeping score, are we?"

"Everyone should have a hobby, Nico." He looked the younger man up and down. "Seems yours is getting yourself shot full of holes. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Nico said with a roll of his eyes. "So-at least tell me the Sep's limped away."

"Hobbled, more like it. We dented them, Nico. We bloodied there nose."

Nico snorted, "Yeah, and they always come back feeling much better."

That was a depressing thought. Shoving it aside, Anakin considered the spynet building. "What's the story here? Is this place still secure, or are the Bothans going to have to tear it down and start again?"

"I don't know," Nico said. "There were droids inside when we got here. We managed to clear them out, but whether they'd had enough time to compromise the security and transmit sensitive data to the Separatist's I don't know." Abruptly, Nico looked exhausted. "Where are you parked, Skywalker?"

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Out in the street. Hopefully nobody's given me a ticket."

"And your squadron?"

"They're on recon, picking off any of the Separatist stragglers. They're fine, Nico. If there'd been trouble, I'd have felt it. There's not."

"Good," said Nico-but he was frowning. "Now for the bad news. How many pilots did we lose?"

Anakin didn't want to say. Didn't want to see-to feel-Nico's shock and pain. He was too busy trying not to feel his own.

But I can't run from it. I can't hide. It has to be faced.

"Fourteen."

"Fourteen? Skywalker, that's-"

"More than a squadron's worth. I know." He shook his head. "They've found some way to upgrade the droid starfighters. These vultures and scarabs were faster, smarter-and it didn't help that we were fighting them gagged. If this was a test run for their computer virus and there jamming equipment, the Separatists got the results they were after."

"And if the Separatists equip all of their warships with the same jamming technology-if they've managed to infiltrate more than one shipyard, infect other ships with that virus-" Nico sounded shaken. "It doesn't bear thinking about."

"Except that's our job, isn't it?" Anakin said. "Thinking the unthinkable."

He looked around the loading dock at the scattered flotsam and jetsam of battle. At the splashes of dried blood on the ground, the discarded blaster clips, the violently dismembered battle droids. Remembered the slaughtered Kothlis citizens he'd seen from his fighter cockpit as he'd flown to the spinet facility, his sense yammering with alarm. There'd been scores of bodies lying in the streets, crumpled in the forecourts of their offices and apartment complexes, and the dead or injured Clone soldiers, their armour white and red and shining in the sun.

He glanced at Nico. "You know…some days I don't much like our job."

"You'll get no argument from me," Nico said, rubbing the wound on his chest. "Master Yoda and the Chancellor must be informed of this development as soon as possible, but only via a secure shortburst. The Separatist's may have fled the scene of their crimes, but we don't know what other tricks they've got up there sleeve. We can't risk-"

"Commander Di Angelo. Do you copy?"

It was Yularen, sounding relieved. Nico tapped his comlink. "Di Angelo here."

"The Senate disaster relief team has arrived."

"That was fast."

"They were in the neighbourhood. Major flooding on Rishi. They-hold on-" There was some background chatter then: "The Bothan delegation's here, too, Commander. They're on their way to you location now."

"Thank you, Admiral. I'll be here waiting for them. Di Angelo out."

Anakin shook his head. "Ah-no, you won't."

"I won't?" Nico's eyebrows shot up. "Skywalker, I don't recall needing your permission to-"

"Save your breath," Anakin said flatly. "I'm not arguing this with you. Medic!"

The Clone who'd patched up Nico looked around from packing his medkit. "General Skywalker?"

"When's the next medevac due?"

"In a couple of minutes, sir. But it's not coming here, it's-"

"It is now. Arrange that, would you? Then see Commander Di Angelo safe on board-and if it's not heading back to Resolute, tell them to make a detour."

The medic nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Skywalker-"

Exasperated, Anakin glared at his young friend. "Nico, you don't need to brief the disaster team and the Bothans. I can do that. And get a proper sitrep and sort out our troops while I'm at it."

"Well, yes, that's true, but-"

"But nothing," he snapped, not the least bit interested in good manners. Sometimes Nico needed a short, sharp shock. You're not a God you idiot. "You said it yourself-Chancellor Palpatine has to know what's going on. That's our top priority. And in case you hadn't noticed? You're bleeding again. You belong in a medbay. Now, I've given this soldier a direct order. Don't make him disobey it by being difficult and don't upset the chain of command by countermanding me."

Silence. Nico stared at him. Not the best situation.

"Okay." Anakin patted his friend on his undamaged shoulder. "Now I'm going to move my fighter, because it's probably in the way. I will see you upstairs when I'm finished down here. And I promise-in the unlikely event I run into trouble I can't handle, I'll contact you."

With a cheerful nod to the Ghost King, who's eyes had darkened considerably through the one-sided conversation, he sauntered out of the loading dock, carefully not looking at the medics, heading for his fighter. As he walked, he toggled his comlink. "This is Gold Leader. Check in, people. Tell me what's going on."

One by one, his surviving pilots replied. Good news all around. No more casualties, lots more kills, the last of the Separatists garbage disposed of. Kothlis was free at last.

"Good job. Head on home," he told them. "I've got a couple of things to do here but I'll be right behind you. And the drinks are on me."

As he hoisted himself into his cockpit, R2-D2 beeped and whistled a relieved welcome and a question. Coming in low overhead, the diverted medevac transport stirred the street's dirt and debris. He hit the cockpit canopy switch, fast.

"Nico's fine, more or less," he told the anxious droid, firing their fighter's thrusters. "Ahsoka's pretty banged up, though. So are Rex and Coric. They're on their way to Kaliida Shoals."

R2's mournful whistle said everything Anakin couldn't…or didn't want to.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "But they're in excellent hands. They'll be fine. Good as new in no time."

And who exactly was he trying to convince? The droid or himself?

Yes.

"Okay, R2. Hang on!" and he gunned the fighter in a vertical liftoff, pointed its nose toward a nearby deserted speeder parking lot, and did his best to outrun inconvenient reality…for a few moments, anyway.

Line break

Aboard a ship, just outside the Bothawui sector

Angral, the Apprentice of Lord Vorn, stood in the meditation chamber of his ship, head bowed, and waiting. (His mask is still on.)

Something moved in the shadows, and Angral moved his head to glance at what it was, only to see his training Proxy droid.

"Master!" the droid gasped in some agitation. "Master, he's here!"

The Proxy droid stiffened, straightened, and seemed to swell in size. And the form of Lord Vorn materialised before Angral.

Going down on one knee, Angral bowed his head before his Master.

"Lord Vorn, you received my message."

The hooded head didn't move. Angral didn't know whether to be relieved or worried. Under that shadowed hood, invisible eyes seemed to dissect him like a failed experiment. "Tell me of your progress."

"I have recruited several mercenary's to my cause. I have given them enough credits to not ask questions. And the Padawan is heading toward the medical facility at Kaliida Shoals, I'm ready to begin the assault."

"If your mission goes so well, why do you seek audience with me?"

Angral took a deep breath. "I have noticed something strange with, Reaper." He paused expecting his Master to say something, when he didn't Angral quickly explained. "His power has weakened somewhat."

This seemed to pique his Master's interest, "Reaper was one of the most powerful Sith in history, he has a mastery of powers that have never been used by Sith because he is the apparent son of darkness, and he is thought to be the Sith'ari of the great Sith prophecy." He said, his voice rising slightly, "So what makes you think he is growing weaker? Or are you just saying that because of your jealousy?"

Angral tensed, his head still bowing low to his Master, "No, my Lord," he said quickly, I have just noticed something…off."

His Master took a deep breath, obviously calming down, "Very well then," he said, "rise, and tell me, why do you think he has grown weak?"

Angral stood up, his head still bowed to his master, "I have noticed that he has not been using most of his powers, like black fire, and Lightning."

Vorn cocked his head, "True, his favourite power is usually with the fire."

Angral nodded, a small smile twitching behind his mask, "And the blood test that Lord Tyranus ran on him, his Midichlorians came out as zero," another nod from his Master, "we all wondered how he could access the Force, well, I have a theory."

Vorn nodded impatiently, "Get on with it then."

"My theory, is that Reaper can only access the Force through the dark side because he is the 'son of darkness'," Angral said, using air quotes. "He can use the light side of the Force, but it is making him weak, if he used the dark side he could be the strongest Force wielder in the galaxy."

Vorn nodded, "I see," he said, "But what I don't understand is why you are bringing this information to me."

Angral swallowed, hard. "I wish to prove to you that I deserve knighthood." At the tilt of Vorn's head, Angral elaborated. "I wish to fight Reaper in a duel, defeat him, and bring him to you, relatively unharmed."

At this, Vorn laughed loudly, though there was no real emotion in it, and it caused his Apprentice to flinch, "You wish to take Reaper on?" He questioned, "Even if your theory is true, Reaper is still incredibly skilled in lightsaber combat." He then paused, "Although, with the help of the mercenary's, you may have enough firepower to take Reaper on and win, if your theory is correct, of course." He then nodded in acceptance, "Very well, if you beat Reaper in combat and bring him to me, relatively, unharmed, I will not only allow you to create your own lightsaber, but you shall grant you knighthood as well."

Angral bowed before his Master. "I am honoured, my Lord."

Vorn frowned, "Do not let your theory blind you, Angral. Reaper is still as dangerous as he ever was, do not underestimate the Ghost King."

Alright, this is definitely the final chapter until I have finished my exams, I know its not my best, and I know its completely random, but it's what I've been working on so tough.

Wow, look at this compared to my very first chapter of 'The Exiled Ghost King', I know I can say this without sounding arrogant, I have gotten much better at writing, and I have all my loyal reviewers to thank for inspiring me, for that, I salute you all.

Also, I've been getting PM's saying that my story has no real plot line, and how Nico is getting soft, now I know you can all have your own opinions, but there is honestly no reason to be rude about it, its disheartening to learn that there are some massive dick heads out there, so lets get one thing straight, alright? This story is MINE not yours, and I'll do whatever the hell I want with it, whether it be Kronos coming out of nowhere and killing everyone, or making Nico randomly go evil again, if you think you can do a better job, then try writing a story yourself, otherwise stay the hell away from my story. (You know who you are.)

Now that I've got that out of my system, onto the reviews...

Guest chapter 14 . Apr 23

one thing I like about the clone wars is that anakin doesn't rant 24 hours a day! seriously in the movies he was all chosen one this bla bla bla jedi code bla bla bla Im suprised no one tried to tape his mouth shut!

Yeah, everyone likes Anakin better when he isn't acting like a dramatic ass.

HiddenHero220 chapter 14 . Apr 23

Tracy is so kawaii! (That means cute in Japanese.) She definitely reminds me of Nico when we first were introduced to him in the books. I hope that she'll be a big part later in the story. Maybe she could be Nico's padawan! I also like Nico's new nickname, Angel Boy. Why didn't I think of that? Can't wait for the next chapter!

No spoilers for Tracy. And to be honest, Angel Boy isn't the best nickname, but its all I could think of.

Guest chapter 14 . Apr 23

hehehehahahaha! can you do a chapter where it says what happend after his little chat with artimis I think her reaction will be funny!

Yeah, I liked that line, I always wanted to know the same thing, also, no, I don't think I'll add Artemis' reaction, mainly because I don't know how I will.

PsychoMike5469 chapter 14 . Apr 24

Aww shit son, Kota's up in this beeyotch now!

Yeah, Kota's not in this chapter, but he will have a part in the future.

CrimsonHeresy chapter 14 . Apr 24

That's was a very good chapter!

Thank you!

Guest chapter 13 . Apr 25

Where's Anakin?

Looking for a bounty hunter, Nico took his place on this chapter.

Lizzy8980 chapter 14 . Apr 25

hello! nice chapter! dont worry about the space battles, i worse then you. on every battle. not just space battles. (arent you lucky?) anyway, if you feel that bad about the space battles, you need cookies and pies (my new goal is to give people 6,000 cookies and pies in total. you get some too.) (::) (::) (::) (#) (#) (#)

Thank for the compliments, cookies and pies.

adopteddaughterofhestia chapter 14 . Apr 26

will nico ever tell ahsoka about his flash-backs? as usual, AWESOME chapter, can't wait to read more! Jesus Christ bless ya!

Possibly, you never know.

WomanOfTheWind chapter 14 . Apr 29

You are freaking AWESOME, for lack of a better word! :D continue the AMAZING work!
(P.S: did you take my opinion of what his nickname should be into account? Because it seems like you did and you just made my day, whether you did listen to my opinion or not. This is an awkward question... lol!)

Thanks for the compliments. And yes, I did take your opinion into account, tried looking for something that involved the light and got Angel Boy, so really, you helped me come up with the nickname, so I thank you for that as well.

Great stories I recommend are:

'Dark Phoenix'. Author: Lighningscar. Crossover: PJO x Harry Potter.

'Death's Avenger'. Author: Sinsidhe. Crossover: PJO x Avengers.

'Everlasting Promises'. Author: Starblade176. Story: PJO

Anaklusmos14 is a great author and all his stories are amazing. So is TheseusLives.

Thank you for reading and if you have any questions just ask them in the reviewers box or PM me. Please review.