Chapter 27: Trapping the Field
"The Jedi have enslaved you. Surely you must understand that." The clone was on his knees, groaning softly and shoulders slumped in submission. The man had offered next to no resistance at all, and Kenobi couldn't help but wonder if all clones were this easy to manipulate, or if it was just this clone in particular that was more open to influence. They were all made of the same template, but Obi-Wan understood that while the clones may have been the same physically, each clone held a different temperament. It was possible that this very sentiment lay just underneath the surface of this clone. It was possible that his treachery was assured, regardless of what the Sith did to him.
This clone lieutenant, Slick, he called himself, struggled briefly at the worming hands through his brain before the pressure eased, and he gasped, hands clutching at the hard, crystalline ground. Kenobi didn't need to compel him. Proud brown eyes looked at him defiantly, but underneath, there was interest. The man was listening.
"You were born and bred for a singular purpose. What do the Jedi care if you live or die, so long as you follow their orders. There will always be another one, just like you, to take your place." Those brown eyes narrowed in anger, and Kenobi extended his hand. "I can free you. Search yourself, find what you want, and you will have it and more."
The clone's square jaw clenched, those eyes hungry and eager, and the thin mouth only needed to say three words. "I want freedom."
"And you shall have it," Kenobi drawled as the clone tightly grasped his extended hand. "All you need to do is report Republic activities to me. Can you do that?" The clone nodded and rose to his feet.
"And you can get me out?"
"That and more, my friend. Just do as I say here on Christophsis, and when the battle is over..." Kenobi shrugged, an easy smile on his face. "I'll take you to Raxus, and you can do as you like." His golden eyes narrowed, his hand extended, and the clone's legs began to shake, giving out on him as he dropped back to his knees. "You already know what it's like to resist me. I suggest you don't." Slick closed his eyes, silently nodding, and Obi-Wan dove into the clone's mind.
He didn't need to negotiate, of course. It would have been just as easy to compel the man to do exactly as he wished. However, the less he had to break someone, the more useful they were. Mindless slaves could only do so much, and he didn't think a mere clone could have the mental resistance to recover from a true mental intrusion. He'd have to test that. There would be plenty of clones on the planet soon enough.
There was little of worth in the clone's mind. However, he did find information on the Republic base of operations, a small command center that housed the platoon of clones that Slick commanded. They were sent here with Bail Organa to act as security for him, but Kenobi knew that their influence would soon expand. He had seen the explosions in the sky as the dreadnaught Invincible was destroyed. He didn't care, of course. There would be many casualties in this war, and Admiral Trench was always just a pawn, and not a very useful one if he had the poor sense to die in his first battle of the war.
Slick shivered, his eyes shutting tight as he groaned, not in pain, but in mild discomfort. It wasn't more than pressure on his head, but it made it feel as if his brain was...moving. Wriggling and twisting as if there was something alive within him that cared nothing for his well-being as it moved and rearranged his thoughts and memories. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at the man that stood before him, glowing golden eyes seeming to command complete obedience, and all thoughts of freedom left him. He wanted to serve this man. He needed to. And then he was released, and the clone collapsed on the ground as if the invisible force holding him up had suddenly let go.
"I have what I need," the Sith Lord purred, activating the comlink on his wrist. "Your platoon will no doubt be looking for you. Return to them before they think something is wrong. Report all Republic plans to me, Slick. I want to know their plans, their movements, their commanders, everything." The clone saluted, grabbing his discarded helmet from the ground before he ran off. The comlink beeped for a moment before scuffling could be heard on the other end. He didn't wait for the woman to answer.
"Ventress, do you see anything?"
"Republic transport ships. Lots of them."
"More than ours?" There was a groan from the other end, followed by silence as the com cut, and Kenobi closed his eyes, feeling the planet through the Force. There was no peace to be found in it, no calm serene that was so often present in the Force. The war had seen to that, the death and violence leaving it disturbed and turbulent and soaked in the Dark Side. He could feel the balance of the Force shifting toward the dark. The time of the Jedi was coming to an end. He could feel it.
His comlink beeped, and he quickly answered. "Not more than ours, no," Ventress said swiftly, slightly out of breath. "We managed to get a good deal of our forces on the ground before the Republic got here."
"Who did they send to lead?"
"Whorm Loathsom." Kenobi groaned loudly, and he could hear Ventress chuckle on the other end. "He's well known as a successful military strategist throughout the Core, Kenobi. You don't have a reason to hate him."
"He's an idiot. We're going to lose this battle." Ventress had said something, but Kenobi stopped listening. The Force pulled at him, strong and insistent, one part in warning, and the other part gently taunting him. His golden eyes narrowed. The Jedi had landed. "Never mind that, Asajj, it may be worth it to lose this battle after all."
"...what. Kenobi, have you lost your mind!"
"Probably, yes." Kenobi smirked. The woman hadn't said anything, but he could almost feel her questioning, accusing stare from across the com. "I set things up with Senator Organa to make it bad for the Republic, no matter the outcome. A victory here may hurt the Separatists more than it helps them. It may be worth it to lose the planet in exchange for dividing the Senate further. And besides," he growled, "with Loathsom at the head of the army, we don't have a chance. There are Jedi here, Asajj. More than one."
"That's why we have you, isn't it?"
"And you, my dear, yes, but that still leaves Loathsom at the head of the army while we're occupied. Just be prepared to leave, and quickly."
"This another one of your feelings, Kenobi?"
"Isn't it always. The Force has always been my ally, and it won't fail me now. Stay where you are, I'll be with you in a moment." He cut the com and took a deep breath. It was quite a ways to the Separatist base, and the streets had been crawling with droids and clones as they fought in the empty streets. The Confederate controlled part of the city was not far behind him, but Kenobi opted to take the long way to the base of operations through the contested districts. He pulled his hood over his head and started a leisurely stroll through the streets, stopping only periodically when stray groups of clones ran into his view and, reaching through the Force, casually grabbed their minds and pulled hard, smirking in satisfaction as the soldiers staggered and clutched their heads as free will left them.
By the time he arrived at the base, he was being followed by ten clones, and the droids guarding the compound all primed their weapons, pointing their lasers at the enthralled men, but with a casual wave of his hand, the mechanicals went flying down the street, clanging as they struck the ground and blasters firing in random directions in desperation. Kenobi approached the command droid with a smile and grabbed the thing around its neck with his hand. It didn't react at all. He hated droids.
"I'm in your database, yes?" the Sith growled, and the droid was silent, it's processors whirring.
"Affirmative, Lord Lumis."
"If I have one more droid weapon pointed at me, I'm going to destroy every single droid on the planet.
"Understood," cane the droll, monotonous voice. Kenobi stared at the command droid, its unmoving face seeming to stare at nothing at all, and he sighed, the clones behind him staggering as the tight Force grip on them eased.
"I was going to feed you boys to my Rancor," Kenobi muttered, watching as the dazed clones tried and failed to get their bearings and shake the haze from their minds. "But on reflection, I think I may keep you. Something needs to replace these detestable droids..." He whistled, the clones' heads snapping in his direction, most just staring, but two of them struggled to raise their weapons, the barrel of their blasters weaving in the air as they attempted to aim at their hooded assailant. With a deep chuckle, Kenobi commanded them to their knees, and after a moment, even the ones that resisted fell to the ground, dropping their weapons shaking under the control of the Sith.
Ventress came off her perch at the top of the building when she saw Obi-Wan throw the sentry droids to the side, sighing as she stood and stretched and slowly made her way down to the ground level. When she sauntered out to stand beside the concentrating Kenobi, the clones had removed their helmet and were staring blankly at the floor. Three of them lay on the ground, eyes wide and blank and unseeing, their mouths hung open and drooling upon the ground. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Kenobi, why-" A long finger shot to her lips to silence her, the golden eyes closed in concentration, and Ventress stepped back, watching carefully as Obi-Wan worked.
To Ventress, it was...fascinating. Completely captivating to watch a being so strong in the Dark Side work, and Kenobi was the best she knew. His handsome face was calm, peaceful, almost like a Jedi that she knew he once was in the serenity of him. It was superficial, of course, and she could feel the Dark Side swirl around him, summoned by his compelling call to do as he commanded. Occasionally, the corner of his mouth would twitch, his closed eyelids gently flutter as he carefully commanded the Force to seize the clones in turn, the identical bodies shuddering and convulsing and groaning their submission as he handled them.
This wasn't the violent, gleefully reckless tearing that he had forced his Jedi captives to endure. This was...gentle. A near perfect approximation of the gentle caress that Ventress had seen between lovers, and she couldn't understand why the Sith was acting in this way. They were just clones, after all, a few among millions of identical brothers. Like the droid armies of the Confederacy, there would always be more clones for the Republic to send pointlessly to their deaths. The soldier Kenobi now handled suddenly cried out, and with a hiss, the Sith Lord recoiled, drawing back the Dark Side and allowing the dazed man a moment to breathe, and Ventress finally understood.
He was experimenting. The three that lay on the ground were merely the results of failed tests, and the others...whether they be lined up for testing, or already have come through successfully, she didn't know. What she did know, however, was that the thing the Sith was trying to accomplish was...new. Different. An entirely separate thing from his usual domination. She caught him often with the holocron, his eyes closed and hardly breathing as the ancient language whispered to him through the Force in words that Ventress didn't understand. Perhaps this was the practice of the knowledge he had been gaining.
"I can make slaves," Kenobi finally whispered, responding to Ventress' unspoken questions, "but I need to make soldiers. Ones that can't return to the way they were."
"Don't your slaves obey your every command?" the woman asked, and the Sith nodded.
"They do, but a good soldier needs to have some level of free will to be successful. That's part of my problem with the droids. If I'm going to replace the droids on my ship with organics, than I need to make them mine while leaving them with the ability to think. The process is...delicate. Too much, and they become mindless, too little, and they don't belong to me."
"Can it be done?"
"Of course it can be done, don't insult me." He lifted his hand, and the seven men rose, their eyes sharp, focused, and Kenobi grinned. "It just takes longer."
Ventress pointed to the men on the ground. "And them?"
"...failures. Leave them."
"Are they dead?"
"No, but when the Republic gets here, I want them to find them." He took a deep breath and examined his men. "I sent a spy into the Republic camp. We should be hearing back from him soon enough."
"Is he reliable?" Kenobi nodded, but said nothing. "...when will he contact us?"
"Soon." He shrugged when the woman frowned at his noncommital answer. "When he has information to give, I presume."
Ventress growled and began to pace. "And what will we do while we wait, hmm? I hate waiting for them to come to us."
The long-fingered hand of the Sith shot out, grabbing her around her upper arm, stopping her vicious pacing. "We, Asajj," Kenobi purred, lightly running his fingers down her arm, "are going to be patient. We have a trap set. Let them walk into it."
True to his word, Quinlan took off as soon as they landed. He promised to return before nightfall, and, despite Ahsoka's pleading, he commanded that she stay behind to protect Anakin. Skywalker, after all, was handicapped. With a wink to Skywalker, the Kiffar took off, leaving a pouting Togruta with the older Padawan.
"He should have taken me with him," she grumbled, arms crossed as she followed Skywalker through the fortified refugee encampment, the clones stationed on the ground quickly unloading the ship.
"He's worried about you," Anakin said softly. "Scouting ahead is very dangerous. Master Qui-Gon says it's some of the most dangerous work a Jedi can do, since to do it well, you have to be alone. And Master Quinlan is supposed to be the best. You'd just slow him down."
"How can I learn if I don't go with him?!"
Anakin chuckled. "You'll learn. I bet he'll take you on his next scouting excursion. I mean, he must have chosen you for a reason." Before the outraged girl could respond, Skywalker cut in with, "Besides, Master Qui-Gon did all the scouting on his mission to Mandalore and always left his old Padawan behind. Always."
"...did he leave you behind?"
"Um..." Anakin bit his lip, stopping as he considered the question and ran a hand through his hair. It was starting to get long and unkept, and he'd need to cut it soon, but...well, he liked it longer. "I'm a...special case. He doesn't leave me alone much."
"What makes you so special..."
The knee-jerk response was to tell her that he was supposed to be great, that his Force potential was so great, even the Council was willing to overlook his age so he could be trained. But...his time in the Temple had showed him otherwise. He spent a great deal of time with the younger Barriss, who was careful and diligent, and her focus was always greater than his, her connection more serene, more patient than his own. He had talent, yes, but Qui-Gon had taught him that talent meant nothing if it wasn't properly applied.
He decided on the simple, "I was too old to train, that's all. They had to make an exception for me."
"Why would they do that?"
Anakin shrugged. "I don't know. They listen to Master Qui-Gon sometimes." He watched the other Padawan consider this, nodding slowly, but he could see the answer wasn't satisfactory to her, though she quickly brushed it away, resolved to save the question for when the Masters returned. They continued walking, both Padawans silent, and Anakin stopped suddenly when Ahsoka grabbed him, pointing to a small tent leaned up against one of the crystals rising out of the ground.
"Doesn't that look like the Senator to you?"
Skywalker squinted, looking where she was pointing, and after a moment, he nodded. "Yeah, that's him. Well done, Snips!" She grinned, and the two Padawans ran over to the tent, slowing and trying to appear dignified like their Masters as they stepped up to the table the Senator was leaning over. Organa didn't look up, but the clone that was with him at the table did, saluting when he noticed the lightsabers at their hips.
"Generals, we're glad you're here," the clone said, but Anakin held up a hand and shook his head.
"We aren't Generals. Our Masters are elsewhere. This is Ahsoka Tano, and I'm Anakin Skywalker. We're here to help."
The clone nodded, and, slowly, Bail Organa looked up from the table, his eyes sunken with dark rings under them, and both Padawans winced as they felt pain and confusion coming off the Senator. "I've heard your name, Skywalker," the Prince mumbled. "From Padmé. I hear you were part of her protection detail." He winced at that, hand shooting to his head, and both Jedi rushed to him, hands on his back and giving each other worried looks. Something was very wrong.
"Are you alright, Senator Organa?" Anakin asked softly, and the man nodded.
"Yes..." He paused and shook his head. "No. I don't know, I..." His strong hands gripped the table. "Everything's fuzzy, I don't..."
"Was he drugged?" Ahsoka whispered, and Skywalker shook his head.
"I don't think so, Snips. Senator, can you tell us what happened?"
Bail nodded slowly, closing his eyes and concentrating, and Anakin could feel the Prince become frustrated as his memory failed him. The very Force around him felt...wrong. "I was trying to work out a deal with the Retail Caucus. They run things here in the city, but it was going nowhere." He bit his lip. "Then...everything's fuzzy after that. I don't remember why I left." He took in a deep breath and held it for a long while, exhaling harshly when he could hold his breath no longer. "I don't remember the rest. But I do remember the Negotiator."
"What?" Ahsoka cried. "The Negotiator is here? Right now?!"
Bail shook his head. "I don't know. He was when I saw him...I-I don't remember how long ago it was. It could have been yesterday. Or the day before. I..."
"It's alright, Senator, don't worry about it. You just relax, the Jedi are going to take care of this." He strode off, Ahsoka close on his heels, and when they were a fair distance away from any prying ears, Anakin swiftly said, "We need to contact our Masters. They need to know they're in danger."
"Master Quinlan is out there!"
"I know. Trust in your Master, Ahsoka, he'll be fine. I mean, he spent a year hunting the Sith, right? This is a normal thing for him, he's basically an expert."
"Yeah, but wasn't he hunting Sith with the Sith he's currently hunting?"
"...I'll admit it's a little bit of a mess." Anakin activated the com on his wrist, turning away from Ahsoka as the Togruta did the same. He was patched through for just a moment before static overtook the sounds on the other end, and then there was silence. "I can't get through to Master Qui-Gon," he said softly, checking the device and finding it to be perfectly functioning. The Separatists must have been blocking communications.
"I can't reach Master Quinlan either." Ahsoka sighed. "What do we do?"
"Well...Master Qui-Gon would advise patience and prudence. We should check around the base here to make sure the clones have what they need."
"...I thought we could think of an attack plan." Skywalker slowly grinned, looking at the mischievously smiling Togruta.
"Oh, I think I'm going to like you, Snips." They kneeled down together, huddling close like they were discussing a secret, Ahsoka using a stick to draw in the thin layer of dust on the ground. Skywalker didn't want to admit it, but the girl was smart, She had studied the maps of the city in great detail and committed much of it to memory, her swift, rudimentary drawing serving its purpose to show all the places they could bring troops, all the best hiding spots, all the ways to the towering Separatist headquarters. The two Padawans managed to come up with a plan together, one that involved luring out and ambushing the Separatist forces from an easily defendable spot in a business center in one of the city's main plazas while a larger force snuck around to attack the Separatist Base. With any luck, the diversion would serve its purpose, and the clones could trap the droids and take the base.
It was, all in all, a very good plan.
"Do you think it will work?" the Togruta asked quietly, and Skywalker nodded, looking over the drawing in the dust that was covered in lines and arrows indicating troop movement.
"I think so, yeah. We'll have to run this by the clone commanders. We may have to wait for reenforcements, but...well, the plan might work. We should discuss this with Rex, I think he's sort of a big deal in Master Qui-Gon's division."
Grinning at each other like absolute idiots, the two Padawans stood and dusted themselves off and ran for the ship where the clones were hard at work. They found Rex quickly. They may have been identical, but the clones distinguished themselves by the markings on their armor, the cut of their hair, and while Rex was unremarkable with his helmet off, he was easy to find when the helmet was on, the distinctive blue markings making him stand apart from his brothers. The clone stood at attention when the Jedi approached.
"Commander Skywalker, Commander Tano," he said sharply. "Has General Vos returned?"
Ahsoka shook her head. "Not yet. He said he'd be back by nightfall." The clone simply nodded. "So...since we're the commanding officers until my Master gets back...we thought of a battle plan."
Rex didn't move for a moment, and then he slowly removed his helmet, staring at the girl in confusion and disbelief. "...you thought of a plan?"
"Anakin and I did, yeah."
"We wanted to run it by you," Skywalker said quickly when the clone commander seemed to nearly choke. "Maybe not to do it now, but when the Generals return. We want to strike at these guys hard, if we can, and that means going in quickly."
Rex nodded. He didn't really know these Jedi, not yet, and he had come to understand that experience beat all else on the battlefield, and these Jedi had none. They weren't like the Generals. Rex looked at the Generals and saw a wealth of experience that could only come from the heat of battle. General Qui-Gon was getting old, but every clone and the division respected him as a wise and tested leader. But these two...they were children. Skywalker had impressed him during the attack on the Invincible, but being able to pilot a ship wasn't the same thing as being able to come up with a battle strategy.
Still, he listened to the two, the younger Togruta doing most of the talking as she detailed the nature of the trap they planned to set. Loathe as he was to admit it, the plan was...good. Brilliant, even. It played to the strength of the clones and the lack of critical thinking that was the droid's greatest weakness. It required a larger force than what they had, but it seemed that the two younger Jedi were reluctant to act without both Masters present. Once again, this impressed the clone. Their eagerness had painted them as reckless and hungry for battle, but when it mattered, the two young Jedi showed prudence. The entire plan had one major problem, though.
"And you're sure the Senator said the Negotiator was here?"
Anakin nodded. "He's here. I don't sense him, but that seems to be pretty normal for him."
"We were told that he was one of you."
Anakin scoffed. "He was once a Jedi, yes, but he isn't one of us. And he's very dangerous. If you see him, you and your troops are to withdraw immediately. Leave him for us."
Even Ahsoka seemed shocked by this. "Hey, Skyguy," she said softly. "We're just Padawans...and he cut your arm off twice. How can we stand against him?"
"We won't be alone, Ahsoka, we'll have our Masters. And we don't even know that he's here. Maybe four of us will scare him off, Master Yoda seems to think he's cautious."
"Master Quinlan says he's very smart." Anakin nodded slowly. "Will he know we're setting a trap?"
"I don't know, Ahsoka. But we have to try."