Apathy

by Throwaway1971

Not important please ignore

18. Entry 157-166

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

Ahsoka walked along the corridor running along the port flank of the Ascendant, her hand rubbing the bracelet on her arm. It was a recent addition, something that had come just after she had been "volunteered" to join the Blockade Forces by her Master.

The Quarians had asked to meet the Jedi on a matter of grave importance, their branch office on Coruscant sending the request formally. It was a surprise certainly, especially when they arrived and asked to meet with the Jedi Masters directly. Something to be concerned about that was for certain.

When they did stand before the Jedi Masters, they produced bracelets which they asked for the Jedi Masters to verify the harmlessness of. A strange request but scans and a dismantling of one of them verified that they have no strange effects at all despite the complicated machinery contained within. They then asked for the Jedi Masters to put them on, all except for the Padawans who had been asked to attend.

Another strange request but at the same time, it was no real worry since they had been vetted as harmless. Once secured, the Quarian delegates had placed down hologram projector and proceeded to narrate a story that was both fantastical and insane at the same time. A story that changed the way that the Jedi order thought about themselves. Shattering much of their preconceptions and calling into question what they thought was their history and traditions.

Ahsoka had been there as part of the Padawan retinue that had been requested as the Quarians began with their story… or rather their report.

"So I would like to start again and say, Good Morning, Jedi Masters, Knights, Padawans. We of the Senti Company have discovered some very… disturbing aspects while creating the Flash Clones as well as our further investigations into those very aspects that we felt had to be shared with you. Please, stay in your seats until we finish the presentation, it may sound ridiculous at first but we can prove everything we say." Said the Quarian, her voice calm as her partner manipulated the Hologram to her left. They stood to the front side of the assembled Jedi, the curvature of the room ensuring that they were the center of attention.

There were mutters from the Jedi, it must be important if they were so serious.

"To begin with, we will start with the biggest issue of all." She said, indicating to the hologram that was showing a rather dramatic view of the galaxy which was being engulfed in a tide of red.

"There is something that is of concern, no. It is of extreme importance. There is something we have noted that is somehow controlling the very minds of the people of the galaxy, Separatists, Outer Rim dweller, and Republican alike, all living organics are under the sway of a galactic force that is controlling the minds of everyone." She said, her voice deadly serious.

There was a moment of silence at that, the assembled Jedi unable to process their thoughts. It was… certainly not what they were prepared for. They had been thinking that it was about the Flash Clones or maybe the Separatists or maybe they were even trying to recruit Jedi to fight for them. Instead… instead, it was this. Not exactly the most illustrious start to a presentation. Ahsoka meanwhile, felt that some of her thoughts had been validated. She had always thought that there was a grand conspiracy behind the scenes to try and control the Republic. She had been considered a conspiracy theorist by the other Padawan, but to see the Senti Company say it with a straight face… well, she felt validated. Sure it had meant she was placed under Master Anakin's tutelage since they were both insane apparently. But perhaps she wasn't crazy.

"You are confused and skeptical. As we said, we have proof regarding the statements that we have uttered. We shall demonstrate now." The Quarian smiled at them and continued speaking, her proof was more talking?

"You see, there are these small organisms called Midichlorians which provide a means by which one can contact the Force and use its power as their own. These microorganisms also serve as a way for the Force to directly contact people and the higher the concentration of the Midichlorians within a being, the stronger their potential in the Force. Of course, you being Jedi understand this.

"What you do not perhaps understand is that the Midichlorians are a vector by which your minds are being controlled, their communication with the Force also a means by which to receive galactic orders."

Ahsoka felt her irritation rising as the Quarian spoke, Midichlorians controlling them? That was absurd, the very idea! But she did nothing, the Masters were standing or sitting down, their faces in thought, not irritation. Ahsoka felt it unfair, why were they not angry at the Quarian for spouting such obvious lies?

"The Midichlorians exert their control over you by means of overpowering your own self-control through the use of chemicals, a means to control your impulses and over time your very thoughts themselves. Their presence in your brains means that they can understand and read your very thoughts, allowing for minute control over your very being. To fully understand what is happening please listen carefully to what I am about to say next."

Ahsoka felt the urge to shout out, to shut down this line of talk and to eject them from the Jedi Temple. They were polluting the grounds with their very existence.

"The bracelets that you wear are inhibitors that allow you to still have control of your powers, but without the drawbacks that having that many Midichlorians inside your body, controlling your thoughts. They suppress the ability of the Midichlorians to alter your body chemistry, protecting you from external influence. They also prevent the Midichlorians from contacting the Force altogether, to stop their ability to coordinate. We have plans for wireless controllers that would allow for us to do away with the bracelets altogether, allowing all people in the galaxy to live their lives without the pervasive and dangerous Midichlorians controlling the minds of the galactic population." She said. She said. She Said!

Ahsoka gave a roar of rage and leapt up at the Quarians, her lightsaber on and ready to cleave their heads from their bodies. Alongside her were the other Padawans, those without lightsabers were sprinting forward, their hands outstretched like claws. Her mind was filled with rage, filled with the need to end the Quarians before they could say another word. Her face and that of the other Padawans was one twisted into a guttural snarl, a need to kill.

Then she knew black.

When she came to, the Quarian was clamping a bracelet to her wrist. There was a surge of anger but it disappeared as soon as the bracelet was secured. She was tired, she was emotionally exhausted and she was very unsure as to what had just happened.

"What is going on?" Ahsoka asked, her head aching from what was feeling remarkably similar to a blow to the back of it. It was something that she never thought she would have to think about, the fact that she could be familiar with blows to the back of the head.

"You just proved the conspiracy theorists right Snips, went a little crazy there when they said there were going to stop the Midichlorians from controlling all of us with their bracelets." Her Master said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She shook her head slightly, it was… strange. To have control taken out of her hands like that, to go crazy and try to kill the Quarians. She also felt vindicated, hah! She wasn't crazy to think that there was something controlling everyone from behind the scenes.

The meeting had adjourned there, the Jedi Masters agreeing to hand out the bracelets to all the Jedi in the temple and to have more sent out to all the Jedi in the field. They would not allow their minds to be clouded again, the Masters shaken by the fact that they had been under the control of an external being for their entire history. It was quite literally the first time they had been free to think on their own for a long time, something that was strange and an empowering at the same time.

As the Quarians left, the Jedi once again began to explore their abilities, their thoughts and themselves, to see what was truly them and what had been implanted in them. Her Master, Anakin Skywalker felt himself becoming much more peaceful, his focus on fighting, aggression and war had eased itself back. He wasn't being torn in half by the Midichlorians demanding he fight, to become the chosen one of prophecy or whatever, and his human self that was pleading that he stay back and enjoy his time with Padme (something he had come out to her about a few weeks previously.)

Her master was now much more at peace with himself, it was like an effect that had appeared instantly. Ahsoka would have been worried that it was an imposter if not for the fact that she herself had felt the effects. She wasn't as focused on trying to get her Master's attention, her constant thoughts regarding the various enemies she wanted to fight again taking a backseat in her mind. Instead, she was focusing on perhaps trying to improve herself so that she could fight them, rather than rushing at them with her inadequate and small power. A rather drastic change that had reduced the extreme mental activity that she had been experiencing ever since she was placed underneath Master.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, her Master's previous Master had also felt a change. Ahsoka had overheard him talking with her Master over perhaps going to Mandalore and talking with his old flame. His heart no longer focused purely on the Jedi Order and now looking toward reconciling his own feelings instead of letting them fester inside of himself. Anakin had confided in him about Padme earlier and Obi-Wan had returned the favour, Obi-Wan in this case being the student and her Master being the teacher, teaching Obi-Wan how to come to terms with his emotions. The dangers of denying himself being something that could destroy him. Obi-Wan had listened and left, internalizing what he had learnt perhaps. Then again her Master was pretty terrible at the whole idea of romance, she had heard their holo conversations and her master really needed some help with his lines.

Ahsoka wasn't too sure really, she didn't understand the idea of romantic love, something that had to do with her physical maturity if she understood the medical texts properly. It was strange but it was also perhaps normal. Perhaps. She did know bad pickup lines when she heard them however, Padawans were still young, pubescent organics after all.

The other Jedi Masters themselves had found something momentous, the shadow of the Dark Side of the Force that had clouded their attempts at scrying had been lifted and their sight was once again clear. The Midichlorians had done it on purpose they understood, a means to blind them for some nefarious goal that had not yet made itself clear. It had shocked the Masters and they had in turn begun a period of retraining that would see the Jedi Order become much less insular, ready for diplomacy as well as militarily competent. There was a galactic conspiracy that was trying to see the Jedi blinded and dead, the Jedi were not willing to take that lying down and were now preparing to counter it.

The Bracelets had become a means by which the Jedi identified each other, lifting up their arms to indicate that they were free of the "influence". A choker design had been prepared and the Jedi were transitioning over, reasoning that if the choker was ever removed, it meant that it was highly likely they were already dead. The new greeting was a tilting of the head to the side, showing off the choker as they did so. A new tradition built from necessity.

The Jedi had adapted and changed, the Quarians had no doubt saved them from a terrible fate that saw the entire Galaxy turned against them. The Quarians were to be thanked, even if they were quite callous regarding the idea of life and freedom.

Ahsoka shook her head as she continued to walk down the corridors of the Ascendant, a debriefing awaited her and she was sure she wasn't going to enjoy it.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

Ahsoka stood in the debriefing room, the holotable in front of her, her Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi and several other Jedi were sitting in the room also. Filling out the rest of the seats were various ARC Clones as well as Republic Officers.

The reason they were here was the presence of what was seemingly a new group of Force users, calling themselves the "Sith" like the ancient enemy of the Jedi. From left to right, up to down the entire room was filled and waiting for her to speak, something that was rather uncomfortable for the Padawan. Luckily they had practiced this in the Blockade Forces, how to deliver information to large groups without panicking. Something Ahsoka was thinking about as she stood before the assembled men and women. If she could sweat, she would be sweating.

"Good morning, I am Ahsoka Tano, Padawan under Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker." She began, the Admiral in charge of the Blockade forces motioning for her to start.

"At 0500 hours, Galactic Standard Time on the 9th Day of the 8th Month, Blockade Special Response Team 0028 received a distress call from a factory on the world of O'Shav'as. We responded and at 0530 hours we dropped out of hyperspace over the planet and dropped down in a LAAT. We did not receive any fire on the descent and made contact with the remaining facility defenders at 0539 hours.

"While inside the facility we faced no resistance and made our way to the power core where the defenders said the Commandos were making their way towards. They also said that there was an unknown Force User that didn't use lightsabers in combat, instead, using unfamiliar abilities involving bladed weapons." Ahsoka took a break and flicked at the holotable, the recording of the Clones coming from the speakers embedded within it.

"Clone Defender 0891FC of O'Shav'as production facility 9118." The synthetic, pre-recorded voice said. The Clone didn't say it directly, but it was a means to identify him for future reference, all Clones sounded the same anyway.

"Blockade Special Response Team, this is 0891C of response team 27. Currently pushing to the Core Control Room with remnants of team 25, 26, 29 and 30. The enemy forces have Droid Commandos, at least 9 squads. Enemy Force User also present, does not use a lightsaber, instead uses physical weapons and Unknown Abilities in combat. Single Force User so far, making way to the Power Plant Chamber." The real Clone said, the voice much less synthetic but not by much. Flash Clones still faced the issue of coming across as rather dry emotionally.

Ahsoka paused the hologram and returned to her debriefing. "We moved directly to the Power Plant Chamber upon receiving the transmission and entered at 0545 hours. The team split up into 2 groups, the ARC Commandos would assist the defenders in retaking the control room, and the Jedi would enter the Chamber in order to ward off or destroy any saboteurs looking to directly attack the generator itself. We split into 3 different directions with me heading to check on each of the power cables that powered the shield for the Generator.

"Once inside I engaged and destroyed a single Commando Droid Squad before being interrupted by the Force Sensitive combatant. We exchanged blows before he left and the Power Plant Chamber was purged, the Generator and levels following along with it."

Ahsoka once again gestured and the hologram changed to represent what she was saying, the table illuminating her exchanging lightsaber blows with the Force Sensitive's sword, or rather what looked like a sword, it was transparent which swords were definitely not meant to be. He was apparently unconcerned with their exchange and left using what looked to be masterful control over the Force as it allowed him to move fast enough that it was as if he teleported.

"During the exchange, I noticed that he had a very small imprint in the Force itself and when using his abilities, used very little energy. It was not like fighting another Force User at all, and when he declared himself "Sith"." The room murmured very loudly at that, their body postures indicating mild surprise. It felt as if her Master had already briefed them on what would be happening and so the surprise was less. She was disappointed but thought it for the best, she didn't want to be put on the spot.

"After the Generator was purged, I made my way to the exit using the magnetic clamps on my gloves and rejoined the Masters. We then linked up with the ACR Commandos and cleared up the rest of the Droid Commandos in a sweep of the facility before returning to the Ascendant. This concludes my report." Ahsoka said, a tiny sigh punctuating the end of the speech, releasing the tension she had been accumulating.

She stood there, waiting for the inevitable questions. Only none came, the her Master gesturing for her to sit next to him. She shrugged and walked over, she wondered why exactly it was there were no questions. Perhaps they had been pre-briefed?

Or not, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was making his way down the stairs on the left side, his helmet tucked under his arm. Helmet. Oh.

Ahsoka turned around and ran to the holotable, pulled out her memory card and retrieved the helmet. Slotting the memory card back in, she gave an embarrassed smile before running over to her Master, all attempts at dignity gone. There were a few chuckles here and there from the assembled Jedi and Republic officers as she did so.

Obi-Wan laid his helmet down beside the holotable and pulled out the memory chip from his own helmet. They were amazing little things, able to hold over 72 hours of fully detailed recordings and much more than that on low detail. It also meant that reports could be corroborated with direct evidence instead of arguing over whether or not something had happened in the first place. Ahsoka especially appreciated how it allowed her to be able to back up her reports and not have to argue about whether or not something happened in the first place. She pulled her thoughts back as Master Obi-Wan stood up and began speaking.

"I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, leader of Blockade Special Response Team 0028. I don't have anything to add regarding the report regarding our entrance into the facility and how we came to be there. Instead, I would like to draw your attention to the being which called itself "Sith". Like Padawan Ahsoka, I was engaged by a Sith or at least a Force Sensitive which called itself Sith. However, unlike Padawan Ahsoka, my engagement was much longer than Ahsoka's and in turn offers more insight as to what occurred. I will give an explanation of what I observed during the duel and then play the holo-recording in order that you will have an understanding going in." He said, placing the helmet onto the holotable itself, before stepping back and put his arms behind his back.

"In the conflict with the Force Specialist, I noticed that they used the Force in a different manner that we Jedi do. Instead of using the Force as an external tool to allow for things such as Force Pushes, Pulls, and other environmental effects, these Sith seem to use it to reinforce their own bodies for increased abilities. In effect, they move at a very fast speed in comparison to us and have much more strength and agility. This was particularly noticeable when I tried to engage with my lightsaber only to have it be knocked back by the momentum that the sword had.

"Direct confrontation is ill-advised, instead, going for the parry is the best option when fighting these Force Sensitives. At the same time, these Sith have demonstrated materials which can resist lightsaber cuts, their swords did not appear to be blunted at all when engaging and in one push was actually overpowering my lightsaber with no ill effects. Further, these Sith do not use their external applications of the Force in the same way that the Jedi do. They are able to manifest the Force into what appears to be physical illusions, throwing daggers and other weapons which dissipated after impact. Upon testing, they retained the physical weight and momentum of what a real dagger would feel like, offering them a much higher level of flexibility in combat than a Jedi or a Clone Trooper. I would recommend engaging them at range and with massed firepower to negate their one on one flexibility in combat." He finished, the loud murmurs of the crowd turning steadily into open grumbling. Notably regarding the Office of Intelligence and their distinct lack of it.

The hologram jumped to life and it showed Master Obi-Wan fighting the Sith, his lightsaber defending against the Sith, that in turn was throwing out a large multitude of different ethereal weapons before closing in with her actual sword for a quick strike. From there she would retreat and resume throwing projectiles at the Jedi Master. The entire fight consisted of her controlling the rhythm of the fight and the spacing, forcing Master Obi-Wan to defend the entire time, his lightsaber barely keeping up with the barrage of throwing knives, small star blades, daggers and what looked like weights.

With his lightsaber held in two hands, Master Obi-Wan slowly pushed forward, using his defensive style to deflect whatever was coming his way slowly pushing the Sith backward. Unfortunately, she merely jumped over him and reset the fight with them being on opposite sides. Every time they actually clashed, the Sith's physical sword would lead the way, smashing into the lightsaber and forcing the Jedi Master back before she herself, retreated out of retaliations way. It was a deadly dance and Master Obi-Wan continued to try and initiate a counter-attack only for her to dance out of reach again.

It was obvious to Ahsoka that she was buying time for the team inside the Command Room to jettison the core, but from the point of view of one that wasn't sure as to the Sith's goal, the woman was being frighteningly competent in drawing out the fight, she had complete control of it the entire time. Not once did she try and take advantage of the purposeful gaps in Obi-Wan's guards, an attempt to draw her closer. Instead, she maintained the pattern the entire time and when the klaxons sounded, disappeared in much the same way that Ahsoka's opponent had. Only she hadn't left behind her name or anything of the like. Perhaps her opponent was just weird.

"This concludes my report." Bowed Master Obi-Wan before walking back up the stairs. Ahsoka was in a mild panic, was she meant to have bowed as well? Was it bad she didn't?

As her Master was preparing to stand up and get to his own report, the voice of Jedi Master Mace Windu interrupted him.

"We have been looking through the holocrons of ages past and have found that these Sith, do indeed look very much like the ancient Sith that the Jedi Order fought against thousands of years ago. Their skin is as red as the Sith yet they do not have the mouth lekku that the Sith of old had. They also appear to have access to a different methodology of fighting compared to that of the Jedi, indicating that perhaps they are Sith. Their abilities are also different, using not lightsabers but physical weaponry. That they claimed to be Sith may be their only connection to the Sith of old.

"As it stands we do not fully understand who these people are but I called you all here in order that you can see what they look like to avoid them in the field. Try to gather as much data as you can and perhaps engage them in conversation but do not forget that they are very combat capable and willing to kill you. Try to gather as much information as you can, but do not put yourselves at risk to do so, it is very likely we will be facing them on a constant basis in the future.

"They may even be the ones behind the assassination of Count Dooku," He said to the surprise and shock of many of those in the room, official reports had said it was a Republic operation but if it wasn't… well, they weren't exactly sure. "Keep an eye out, be wary, do not over extend yourselves and watch your backs. If they are the new Sith they will be seeking to destroy the Jedi Order and the Republic."

With that ominous warning, the meeting was over and Ahsoka left trailing after her Master as he left. Things were going to be interesting she was sure.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

Xiong Shen walked down the corridor of the Separatist Habitation Block attached to Frigate #2881. He along with the 2 other saboteurs that had arrived to strike at O'Shav'as. They were en-route to return back to the staging area, their mission complete.

"Shen, what were you doing with the Jedi?" Asked on of his teammates. She had dealt with the famous "Anakin Skywalker", while he had delayed "Ahsoka Tano".

"Hmmm?" He hummed

"You were very… talkative with her." She continued, hands clapping together, fingers intertwining. She grinned at him from above, lording her height over him as she always did.

He gave a short growl and kicked at the back of her knee, bringing her down to his height. Her giggles as he did so did nothing to alleviate his irritation.

"Shut it woman, she was just interesting." He said. Clenching his teeth shut as he did so, he had just given her the opening she needed to jump in. Regret filled his belly as he did so, if he could go back in time, he would slap himself silly.

"Ooooooh. Interesting hmmmm? She's not even a Yaomo, why would she be interesting? Hmmmm?" She drawled, prancing in front of him and walking backward, leaning down until she was level with his own face.

"The Minds can make us compatible!" He shouted. Indignation rich in his voice, hands fisted by his sides.

"Ooooooh, babies huh? You're really planning ahead here Shen. Maybe we should preparing the gifts?" She said, lifting up one hand and miming a money signal by clapping her fingertips. Implying quite blatantly and in his face about a possible marraige.

"No! We haven't even talked about it yet!" He retorted, he still hadn't seen her face after all.

"But you're planning to? Ooooooh, you're growing all the way up aren't you?" She said, spinning as she walked, grinning at him the whole time.

Shen gave an almost inarticulate growl of rage and impotence. Everything he said was going to be used against him.

"Shen, stop getting pulled into her pace. Hsiao, stop teasing him." Said the third member of their team, Qiong Meng. Her face pulled into a grimace as she stared at them.

"It's not my fault." Grumbled Shen, his face set into a frown. "Why is it always me." He continued, arms crossed.

Both of them giggled at the sight, he looked rather adorable when he set himself like that, face set into a sulk, body posture bent over and his arms hugged tight. He was barely 14 years old, this "assignment" of theirs was more of a coming of age trial for him than anything else. The two of them being from vassal families whose links went back for millennia. They had been sent by their respective families to look after Shen and help him grow up properly. Both were 25 years of age, old enough to have families of their own, but they had refused. There was plenty of time to raise a family now that the Caretakers had allowed their race to flourish without needing to weed out most of their young in death games.

"It's just too easy Shen, we need to toughen you up before someone else says something and you get angry and start insulting them. You need to control yourself more Shen, we won't be around forever you know." Said Meng, smile still on her face.

"You don't have to enjoy yourself so much." He grumbled.

The two women started laughing again at that.

They reached the holochamber, the mirth on their faces slowly wearing off while Shen merely descended further into his sulk. His anger was legendary… and also extremely humorous to watch.

Still, they wiped all expressions off their faces before they went in, what happened next was best to be done with a blank face. Having attention focused on them by the Empress would be a very very bad thing. Having her displeased with you was a very quick route to dying an ignoble and extremely painful death before being forgotten and discarded.

The trio stepped into the room and stepped onto the 3 circular platforms set on the floor. Once all of them were on, the platforms began to vibrate before it rose up into the center of the room the pedestal in the center lighting up and the entire room became a single hologram, a vast display that showed countless other teams on their own little pedestals clustered together in small blobs. Some were closer than others, their faces clear and distinct while others were minuscule, their features barely visible at all.

They who were closer were representations in the physical reality, their actual location being closer to the trio while the others were further away. A nice manner of noticing who was around that they might be able to contact them for a joint operation or something similar. In the center of the room, all rooms, not just theirs, was the Empress. The supreme ruler of the Yaomo through brute strength, political intrigue and sheer skill with her abilities. While she might resemble a young girl, her actual age put her closer to several tens of thousands of years old. Her current form merely a fad that she was going through.

She looked at them, or she looked at someone else, they were not sure. Only in their perspective, she was looking directly at them and it was distinctly uncomfortable. She opened her mouth and began to speak, every single one of them listened, not doing so was merely inviting death.

"My children, we have begun the initial part of Phase 2 of the overall plan regarding this universe. The first strikes against the Republic have been carried out. We will continue carrying out these strikes until the Republic begins to retaliate and build up their forces. Once they have completed the necessary build-up, we will move onto Phase 3 at the discretion of Minds." She said, quick and straight to the point. It created an atmosphere where they assumed that she was as straightforward as her words, only to be blindsided by her plots.

"Is there anything I need to be concerned about before we go on?" She said, a pregnant pause waiting before she continued, "I have read your reports." It was particularly dangerous, even through the hologram they could feel her killing intent as she spoke. A few of them shivered, it would take a particularly stupid or ignorant Yaomo to not realise what was going on. She was giving them the chance to confess to anything they had done before she singled them out for personal attention.

It was a particularly effective way to get them to confess to anything they thought they had done wrongly, catching more than her reports undoubtedly. Her reputation giving them the shove to confess, not wanting to be "punished".

The three of them stood there, communicating frantically through their hand signals.

~Is there anything we need to know about?~ Motioned Hsiao.

~Did you tease someone that reported you to the Empress?~ Signaled Meng.

~No, I haven't had contact with anyone outside of the two of you in the last week.~ Returned Hsiao

~Maybe the way we did it was too dramatic?~ Asked Shen. His motions becoming increasingly frantic as he stared at the Empress who was waiting in the center.

~No, we were meant to attract as much attention as we could for the Jedi to find us.~ Motioned Meng.

~Then what?~

~I don't know!~

~Maybe there isn't anything?~

~She's probably trying to scare us!~

~Its not like its just us right? She's probably just looking at the others, there's still everyone else!~

~Right.~

~Good point.~

~Was scared. Remember, don't screw up in the future from now on.~

~Yes, if we do we won't be saved.~

The Empress smiled for a tiny bit, a very small and very sadistic smile. Filled to the brim with her latent urge to deliver suffering on the innocent.

After five minutes had passed, she spoke out again.

"Your next targets are being transferred to your personal devices now. You are free to complete your objectives in whatever manner you deem fit so long as you follow the guidelines established by the Minds. Failure to do so will result in punishment. Mine first. Then theirs. Do not fail. You are dismissed."

Her figure disappeared from the pedestal and the team knew they were safe. Stepping off the platforms, the holograms disappeared and all of them breathed a sigh of relief. They had not been singled out, if she wanted to talk to them, her image would have remained. Thankfully it had not and they didn't waste time escaping from the room.

"Ok, so we didn't do anything wrong. This time. Just remember to follow the guidelines ok? Do you remember what they are?" Asked Hsiao, sounding a bit shaken. Her naturally mischievous self had met what was her natural enemy. There were brick walls that were not a good idea to run headfirst into.

"Yes yes. I remember. Do not cause excessive civilian casualties, do not purposefully target civilians, do not disobey the Minds, do not use powers above the established norm, do not reveal Caretaker influence, do not reveal link between us to Republic and Outer Rim." Recited Shen.

"Good, good. Just keep those in mind and we should be fine." Said Hsiao.

"I'm going back to my room. The trip back to the staging area should take another few hours. Wooooeee, Empress is as scary as ever."

"I will go back and review what footage we have. Perhaps she is merely waiting until there is less congestion to bring up our issue. I would like to be able to answer anything she might bring up in conversation." Said Meng, pushing up her metaphorical glasses. She had been rather taken by the Log Horizon anime, particularly Henrietta.

"Yaaah. Your grandmother is super scary Shen." Said Hsiao as she walked off.

"She's not that bad. Just listen to her and she won't do anything to you." He mumbled.

"Are you sure you don't wish to bring up the issue of your grandson and his relationship with the Jedi?" Asked the Empress' aide, her voice subdued in the presence of the most powerful Yaomo in existence. Granted she was not as powerful as the Minds but she was still strong enough to wipe out the ruling classes without changing form.

"Yes, I would like to see how this female holds up to Xiong's advances." Said the Empress, leaning back on her throne. It was situated on one of the worlds in the Separatist divide, specifically Serenno, Count Dooku's previous planet. It was a rather nice planet, especially to set up her temporary court. It was lacking in terms of Cultivation resources but then again, she had been spoiled by the Caretakers and their abundance, if it had been the her of old, this world would have been a goldmine. As it was, the world merely ranked as "adequate" on her radar.

"It's just… you seem rather irritated." Said the aide. The Empress resisted the urge to lash out at the figure, holding back the desire to crush skulls and drink blood. She had gotten the aide due to her manner of speaking out without cowering before her, to speak her mind without fear. It offered the Empress an alternate point of view and she was loath to cultivate another which might be the same. It was just… the Empress was not used to being challenged and it was difficult to restrain the urge to kill any who did, her ingrained habits telling her that it was a challenge to her authority.

"Yes. The bitch might be aiming at my cute grandson and I'm going to make sure she's worthy before giving her over. If she's not worthy, don't blame me for killing her. Xiong deserves something better than that hussy." Said the Empress, her fist clenched. The armrest being ground to powder, impressive given that it was made of sheet metal.

She aide didn't say anything, she might have been appointed for her ability to speak her mind, but she was not stupid. The girl hadn't even spoken to the boy properly and never even met him before. It wasn't her fault but there wasn't going to be any way to swaying the Empress and the aide wished to keep her head intact.

Poor girl.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

"Go! Go! Go!" Shouted Eight, his feet thumping on the ground as he rushed his way across the street. Every step brought up a small cloud of dust as it disturbed the ground masonry and brickwork that had accumulated over a year's worth of artillery bombardments. The entire city had been reduced to what amounted to rubble, a few rare exceptions holding out and being mainly intact, most of them being reduced to shells or half collapsed.

These bastions of civilization were now fought over for both sight and territory. Their height (anything above ground level) allowed for them to be perfect artillery spotter locations. At the same time, it created an anchor by which the frontline could revolve around. As such, the Clone armies and the Droids fought over them with increased ferocity and fervor. Well the Clones did, the Droids weren't exactly the most emotive things around.

What they were fighting over right now was labeled as the "Grain Elevator", a vast multi-story building over a city block in size. It was built several times stronger than a residential building as befitting of its industrial nature. Large pipes ran up and along the walls, both a means of dropping bags of grain and of discarding used husks. Each level held large belts with which to transport the grain, each reaching one's waist in height and also wide enough that one could lie across the belt, fingertips and toes not touching the ends.

Now however it had been changed, not structurally, but rather the innards had been prepared for war. Large sandbag emplacements on the stairs, in the corridors, around the windows, everywhere where there might be incoming fire and combatants might move through. Shields were abandoned here, any sign of them prompted an Ion bombardment which shut them down, leaving them helpless. At least with Sandbags, they remained in place even after a conventional bombardment.

As it was, the Grain Elevator was kept intact from conventional munitions, both sides accepting that some buildings needed to remain intact.

That did not mean the surroundings were afforded the same consideration. Vast trench networks ran underneath the purview of the structure, the ones further back into friendly territory could hold as many as 3 abreast, purposefully wide to allow for munitions and wheeled weapon emplacements to be moved through. As they approached the frontline, the trenches narrowed down, barely enough for one person to walk through. Each trench wall was lined with durasteel or wood, never masonry, extra shrapnel was never a good idea in an artillery bombardment. Each wall was leaning at an angle of 15 degrees to both allow for stability, preventing cave-ins as it were and to make it easier to climb out into battle, quickly and with less effort.

The Grain Elevator was surrounded with these, for both the Droids and the Clones, the beating heart of two different trench networks pushing against each other and in some cases breaching each other inadvertently, leading to a furious and subdued melee. None of them wanted artillery being called on their heads by impassionate observers.

Eight had been charged with leading reinforcements to the Grain Elevator. As it was, they held the bottom 3 floors and the land surrounding it. The Droids, however, held the upper 10 floors and were receiving supplies via canisters fired from their artillery. Them being Droids meant they only needed basic maintenance equipment and energy charging packs. They had even set up a permanent charging system so that even if they ion striked the building, the Droids could continue to function, albeit at reduced efficiencies.

Them holding the upper floors also led to the unfortunate situation where the Clone reinforcements were shelled mercilessly, guided unerringly by the Droid observers. While their trench network was mainly hidden from aerial observation (sometimes by thin sheets of metal), there were other times when they needed to cross in the open, the foundation of whatever was there previously preventing them from digging a trench. These zones were of course marked, the Droids extrapolating their running speed and zeroing artillery on their predicted path, the resulting fire sometimes catching out entire platoons and turning them into mince meat.

The Droid observers were usually shot down, of course, only since they were Droids, the artillery could just as easily fire across frames as they did supplies. Resulting in a nigh-on endless supply of the damn things.

Eight was leading a rush now, crossing the street in the open. He kept his head down and ran straight, there was no point zig-zagging across something this small, he also wanted to keep moving as fast as he could. The Droids were zeroing in artillery on the platoon and he didn't want to be here when it hit. They had roughly 18 seconds to leave the strike zone and it was going to be a very tense 18 seconds.

Eight knelt down on the other side of the street, or rather the "relatively rubble free strip of ground", and watched as the rest of the platoon crossed. As the last one did, or rather second last, the last one was dead, sniper bolt to the skull, he turned and followed them down into the trench on the other side. They were going to be going underground, something the size of a platoon was simply too big to outrun an artillery bombardment so they were going to wait it out.

At 10 meters underground, the bunker was safe from most artillery and they weren't going to be using specialized munitions on a mere platoon of Clones. Safest place in the city right now. It was accessible by a ramp that ran to the right before ending in a ladder that descended the whole way down. If there was a cave-in, it would be relatively easy to dig their way out. Relatively since it was them removing the cave-in and shooting their grappling hooks straight up to escape.

Still, it should not be an issue with standard HE munitions. The Separatists had switched over to physical munitions, the shrapnel and conventional shockwaves allowing them to kill Clones from dozens of meters away. More expensive than plasma munitions but the psychological effect was many times worse, the whistling of the shells ingrained into their heads.

As the bunker shook around them, the shells landing as they had predicted they would, the Clones waited it out. Eight looked at them, quickly giving a scan. They were Flash Clones, evident in the way that none of them were talking, or even showing signs of stress, no clenched shoulders, no rigid posture, just sitting there like they had come from a fresh run. Like damned Droids.

Eight checked the timer displayed on his HUD. It had been 3 minutes 15 seconds. Like a plasma cycler.

"Up!" He shouted out, moving along the line, the kind that Flash Clones automatically adjusted themselves into when there was more than 3 of them in a group. Creepy. "Let's go!"

"Sir!" They shouted in unison. Climbing up the ladder, all of them moving at a steady pace, each movement identical.

He followed them up, pacing himself at the middle, it wouldn't do to have the commanding officer killed because he was too gung-ho. Too many Krogans being killed before they were even in range had hammered that knowledge into his head.

As they moved along the trench network, Eight took a brief moment to zone out, to look at the map of the area. It looked like they had another 500 meters to go before they hit the Grain Elevator and its general surroundings, all the shell holes, and corpses that made up its domain. It looked like he was heading into another meat grinder, the intervening years since the Flash Clones had been introduced, the Droids had been upgraded, and the skirmishing of the Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems had turned into full blown war, had seen Eight moved from war-zone to war-zone, his body damaged, his mind teased to breaking point with every engagement.

His first engagement on the forest world had seen his body shattered from the blast of the laser cannon. His left arm, left leg, and half his chest had been lost entirely, vaporized from the explosion. His body had been on the verge of simply giving up and it was only with luck he had been found before he had bled out or died of shock. A month in a Bacta vat had seen him returned to full strength.

From there it was another war-zone, this time, a desert. He had been part of the speartip, driving deep into Separatist lines aboard a skimmer. He had run down Droid after Droid in flanking maneuvers before being taken out by another tank. This time, he had come off much better, only losing a leg and an arm. Another 3 weeks in the Bacta vat and he was off again.

Battlefield to battlefield, only leaving when he received critical injuries. There was the fabled R but it was a myth more than anything. There were billions of them now, where exactly could they go? It was myth and it was enough to give hope to the poor bastards, fresh from the pods on Kamino. They didn't want to know that R didn't exist, a lure dangled in front of them to keep them compliant. The veterans understood there was no such thing, they were expendable and the boffins weren't going to be spending time on thinking about making their lives better, it was too expensive.

Eight shook his head. Only a year and he was a bitter old bastard. He knew he was going to die, nothing was going to change that, not here, not now. He was a Clone, he was expendable. At the very least he could die doing his job, the only thing he took pride in anymore. Nearly 2 years of combat had seen Eight become very good at killing Droids. B1, Super, Aerial, Roller, it didn't matter. If it clanked, he could kill it.

He didn't worry about getting lost while he was zoned out, the Flash Clones never got lost. They made their way through the trenches, passing through medic stations where Kaminoan Clones worked desperately to treat the wounded that had been returned to them, barely a fraction of the number out on the field. Abandoned. It was the Medics that had seen Eight return, he wasn't sure if he was going to be resentful that they had not let him die or grateful they let him kill more Droids.

They passed ammunition dumps, set deep into the earth and filled with every small arms munitions available to the Clone armies. Knee-Mortar shells, Blaster ammunition, thermal detonators, ion grenades, rations, clothing, armour, helmets, visors, anything, and everything.

Eight made sure to check if the Flash Clones had their allotted equipment, not that it really mattered, they were never anything below parade inspection standard. It was more for him to check, an abuse of power but they were going to die anyway. He had stopped caring far too long ago, it was worrying but then again it didn't really matter. He was going to die and he was going to do it in as much comfort as possible.

As they continued through the trench network, the platoon neared the single trenches that marked the frontline. It was here that they were going to have to pay attention, sporadic artillery that was usually deployed just before an attack, actual attacks, raids, air strikes, saboteurs, anything that might want to kill them essentially.

"Ready Arms, Watch for attacks over the top!" Eight called out, loosening his own Carbine and ticking off the safety. The platoon jogged through the network, making sure to keep their heads down. On the way they passed other Clones, resting after a shift on the Edge, eating, playing little games to ease the stress, groaning from wounds and awaiting transport back, heading up for their own shifts on the Edge and the dead.

They continued their march, stopping only at the signs that proclaimed, "Grain Elevator, Leave All Your Hope For Those That Have More Use Of It!". It looked like they were indeed at the edge of the network into the Grain Elevator.

Eight felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, back into the thick of it again.

What fun.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

The rush into the Grain Elevator was rather anti-climatic. Only 5 of the Flash Clones had been killed by snipers, the only artillery fire they took was from the local mortar system. It made sense that they wouldn't want to bring in the big guns, the Grain Elevator was valuable enough that they didn't want to send it tumbling down.

Since they couldn't use artillery to end it, the grunts were being used instead. Thrown into the meatgrinder to take a little piece of ground in the endless battle that was the city. Eight met with the Kaminoan Clone in charge of the Grain Elevator. Or rather the bottom few floors of it.

"Got a platoon here to reinforce you, Major." He said, saluting. Not the exactly the most crisp of salutes but they weren't exactly the crisp clones fresh from Kamino either.

The Clone looked up at him from his holodeck. A tiny little thing that could fit in one's hand.

"Good to see you Lieutenant, what have you got?" Said the Major, returning the salute half-heartedly.

"I've got 2 rocket and machinegun teams, 2 squads of heavy infantry and the rest of them are light infantry." Said Eight, running a mental check on which ones had survived, luckily it was the light infantry that had taken the losses and not the heavy infantry. Their thicker armour was going to be very important in the upcoming fight. That and the shields mounted on their wrists.

"Good, you're to back up 4th Platoon, they're on the fourth floor, east side. Take your guys up, you're going to be the reinforcements for this one. Corporal #9118 will lead you to them." Said the Major, turning back to the hologram that was showing the schematics of the Grain Elevator. It had the updated map, the various murderholes, passageways, impromptu doors and collapsed stairwells. It was being updated in realtime, a new hole appearing in the wall on the 5th floor as the Clones battled it out with the Droids.

Eight nodded and headed back to where his Clones were waiting under the Grain Elevator in the staging area.

"Ok, we're headed up to back up 4th Platoon, 4th floor, east side. Follow Corporal #9118. Get moving!" He called out.

"Sir!" They echoed, shouldering their carbines and jogging up.

"Ok sir, just follow my lead here." Said the Corporal, heading deeper in the structure itself.

"Stairs?" Asked Eight.

"Negative sir, the ones on the side are open to the outside, sniper and machinegun fire for anyone who tries to use them." Replied the Corporal.

"Why not just board them up?" A few sheets of metal should be enough to cover them up.

"We tried that, the Clankers just blew them out, all that's left of the walls is a few bricks here and there. We still got bodies on them, can't pull them down or the Clankers will shoot us up. At least they can't push down either, our boys have got them covered too."

"Interior?" Referring to the staircases that curled up in a square and ran all the way up to the top.

"Negative again sir, they're open all the way up, Clankers drop grenades down every now and again to keep us on our toes."

"Then what about the elevators?" The schematics had shown there to be 8 of them dotted around the facility.

"Out of action sir, same problem with the stairs, the Clankers can just drop grenades down. It's easier to go down than up, got Clanker raids every few hours. Makes life a right pain… Sir."

"Then how do we get up?" Eight asked, intrigued.

"Ladders sir, safest way to get up or down. Makes getting supplies up and down a pain, but we manage. Some of the boys have got a lift system going."

The Corporal rounded a corner and pointed at their way up. A simple ramping ladder, anchored to the floor and through the ceiling which a large hole had been blasted out. Eight stared at it and shook his head, certainly not the most comfortable ride he had been on but at least it was safe.

"All the way?" He asked.

"Negative sir, only to the next floor. Last time we had one all the way up, the Clankers overran it and used it to drop all the way down. Pushed us out of the Elevator that time." Eight nodded sympathetically, losing ground to the damn robots certainly bit where it hurt most.

They climbed their way up, keeping an eye out for the various things that were no doubt going to try and kill them. While it was relatively safe, it was also rather terrifying, the constant threat of a grenade rolling down the stairs, enemy raids and boobytraps left by raiders kept them on their feet. At the same time, Eight felt a sort of weary acceptance, he had been in too many warzones, in too short a time. He had acclimated to the oppressive feeling that came from knowing that death could come at any time. It produced a sort of deep-seated apathy in a person, just doing what was needed to get day to day with occasional bursts of extreme violence. It also made him feel rather at home, something that he had not thought he could want.

They made their way through the Grain Elevator, the 4th floor waited for them as did a group of battered Clones. Their armour was scuffed and cracked in places, more than a few had blaster patterns burnt into them while others still were wearing what was clearly non-standard issue armour. A few plates welded together and attached to their existing armour. They were probably Kaminoan Clones, the Flash Clones never could muster up enough initiative to do it on their own.

"Ah good, my reserves?" Asked one of the Clones, Eight assumed he was the Lieutenant. He hadn't yet patched into the IFF system of the Grain Elevator and was working from whoever the Clones pointed him towards.

He was about to reply before being interrupted, the Clone dragging him down to his knees. "Down down!" He hissed at the platoon behind Eight.

As they dropped to their knees, the telltale sound of a Blaster Bolt flying through the air punched into their ears. At the chest height of where they were just standing, a line of Blaster impacts stitched the wall.

"Machinegun nest across the next building. Keep your heads down if you want to keep it." Said the Clone.

"Where did that come from?" Asked Eight, kneeling down, swiveling to see if he could identify it.

"There." Said the Clone, chuckling as he did so, the tiny fist-sized gap in the wall apparently the culprit.

"Damn Droids, shoot like computers."

"They are walking computers."

"Well, that aside, what is the plan? You do have a plan?" Asked Eight.

The Clone, apparently Lieutenant rank, nodded and squatted down further. His hand produced a stick that Eight could have sworn wasn't there before and began to trace out a rough floor plan.

"This is the Fifth floor, we're going to be pushing up on the ladders behind us. There's already 5th Platoon up there with the beachhead, spent most of the night to get it. Our job is to reinforce then push out into the rest of the floor, take it and shut down any entrances from the 6th floor. To that end, we're going to be splitting into 4 groups."

As he spoke he moved the stick to indicate what he was talking about, the allied position was marked with a semicircle. Their position was mainly behind a grain belt and sandbags to protect the flank. If it was accurate they held approximately 1/8th of the 5th floor currently. The three arrows he drew went straight into the middle of the rectangle, while the fourth arrow went right to where the open door was drawn.

"We hold the first belt, the one over is no-man's land, the one after that is Droid controlled. We're going to leapfrog over the first belt, rush the second and hit the third. If all goes according to plan we should be able to take the belts. From there we push across the hall. Used to be a storage area for the Grain, now it's sandbags and emplacements. Just push across and secure it if possible. If casualties are too high, we'll stop at the third belt and consolidate. From what I hear we've got 3 more platoons reinforcing us today. The fourth group are going to head right when they come out from under the ladders, there's a hole in the ceiling where the Droids like to drop in from, they're going to hold the flank while the rest of us push up."

The stick moved the whole time. The hall that he spoke about ran about a third of the facility before it bent at a right angle. From there it kept going for half that distance again. A large L shape in essence.

Each of them prepared their equipment before looking up. The Lieutenant stood up and said one last piece of advice to them, "keep your heads down up there, chest high is the highest we got, good luck boyos!"

In turn the Lieutenant, his Clones then the Platoon that Eight had brought ascended the ladders, straight into the meatgrinder. Eight followed in the middle, his hands and legs clawing him up, closer to the hell that was no doubt waiting on the other side. As he climbed, the sound of blaster fire that he had been hearing since stepping onto the 4th floor, increased in volume, the explosions of Thermal detonators, screams and moans of Clones, and the sizzling circuitry of damaged and destroyed Droids filled his ears.

He took a deep breath and hauled himself up the final rung. He rolled to the right, joining the middle battlegroup that was pushing into the Grain Elevator itself. Carbine in hand, Eight popped his head over the Belt that rose up a meter or so away from the ladder entrance. The other Clones were already smashed against it, hugging it tightly with their bodies as they waited for the signal to leap over the wall and into battle.

They were all crouching, trying to hide their numbers from the Droids, it wouldn't be the best thing in the world if they were going to expose themselves and let the Droids prepare for an assault. Best case scenario they would lose a few more Clones, worst case scenario they would run into a heavy machinegun crossfire and get wiped out. Not exactly the most amazing option available to them.

Eight crouch-walked his way down the belt, behind the line of Clones that were preparing to launch the attack, making space for the ones emerging from the ladder. There would be 50 of them in an area barely large enough to fit 60-70 people, let alone Clone troopers armed to the metaphorical teeth.

A hand signal rippled down the line, a closed fist that was pumped 3 times, transitioning to 3 fingers, 2 fingers, then one, before transitioning back to a fist pump. Grenade assault, the second fuse, last person to receive the signal would initiate. Eight pulled an ion grenade from one of the pouches on his chest, the cylindrical little device, deceptively innocent looking. Pushing in the plug on top, he turned it to the three mark and released it. Pulling the pin he waited, holding the lever closed so that it wouldn't allow the bolt to start the timer. It wouldn't do much to him being an organic and all, but it would be rather irritating if it did go off right now.

One Clone to the left stood up, the signal for the rest of them to throw their own grenades. Eight on his part remained crouching, his own throw was to be angled high, over the Clones standing up, who in turn were going long.

He threw the grenade and picked up his Carbine from where he had placed it on the ground. As the first wave leapt over the belt, he followed, rolling over the belt and into the maelstrom.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

Eight leaned his Carbine against the edge of the crate, thumb underneath it while his palm rested on the safe side and his helmet pressed against the side of the rifle, head angled for his eyes to look through the sight. Presenting as minimal a profile as possible, Eight leaned out, only a sliver of his arm and his face was available as a target.

He squeezed the trigger once, twice, thrice and a final, fourth time. The Droid that had been trying to rush through the doorway fell down, its internal circuits fried by the Blaster Bolts. Eight maintained his position, waiting for the next Droid to present itself, assuming they hadn't learned of course.

They had managed to take the hall after 3 hours of fighting, every centimeter of space marked with the bodies of the fallen. It had been hell, taking far too much time, lives and ammunition. Eight was barely functional at the moment, his body wracked by exhaustion from the hours of constant combat, his mind barely conscious. As it was, he was using the crate more as something to lean on as much as he was using it as a way to keep himself upright.

They didn't have enough bodies for him to rest, their group had been cut-off by a counter-attack 2 hours previously. While there had been reinforcements, bringing their number up to 38 Clones, to defend a space as large as the hall from the Droids coming down the internal staircases, the right side of the belt area with the Droids dropping from above and the Droids coming up the ladders from their rear, 38 Clones was barely enough. There was enough of them for 5 or so to get some sleep every now and again but it wasn't enough and something had to give, and soon.

Eight caught himself leaning into the crate. Pushing off slightly he shook his head and got back into the game as it were, eye back onto the sight. His eye caught sight of a Kaminoan Clone lying at the edge of the door, a small pile of Droid models surrounding him. His helmet was off, a large crack running along the face. Heh. Died fighting. Survived the entire push, only to die right at the end.

Eight rolled over the Belt, his Carbine hugged close to his body. On the other side was the third belt, and behind that was the entrenched Droid contingent. Eight had just completed the easiest objective, what was next was going to be the make or break moment. Thankfully the grenade storm had taken out a majority of Droids… hopefully.

Eight didn't want to run headfirst into a group of Droids, that usually ended very badly.

The first wave had already made their way over, Eight was going to be leapfrogging over them, straight into the 3rd belt, what fun. The second belt was already filled with Clones, pouring Blaster Bolts in an attempt at suppressing fire. It didn't exactly work out very well given that Droids didn't feel fear, but at least they acted slightly more cautiously.

Over the belt, head down and ram shoulder into the third. Body check to check if body is low enough, keep head down. Don't want to get popped. Bolt hits the head, head boils, explodes. Popping.

Eight took a deep breath and popped up, Carbine at the ready, shouldered, eye to the sight. Eight stared down range and squeezed the trigger. Burst fire mode was ticked and Bolts flew down the hall. To his right, the fourth team had secured their objective and was setting up to repel and attempts by the Droids to drop in on them.

To his left, the other 2 groups were preparing to push forward in the assault. About 30 of them, any more and they wouldn't be able to fit, being too bunched up was just an invitation for grenades or explosives. The lieutenant from before was leading, his small contingent of Kaminoan Clones following close behind.

The first group behind him were ready, rolling over the belt, making sure to keep a low profile the whole time. It wouldn't do to have the Droids fire from behind cover at the Clones due to the way they suddenly added half their height. Dropping down, they continued straight over the 4th belt, rolling over and rushing straight into the hall.

There were crates filled with what used to be flour, no doubt having gone rancid in the months since the battle had started. The crates themselves formed several lines, each one half again as high as a Clone and nearly as tall as one in width. In between these rows of crates were sandbags, placed here very clearly by the Droids, a means to protect against artillery and other explosives, breaking up the waveforms of an explosion. It also worked as a barrier against enemy fire. The hall itself was over 40 meters long, 2 dozen rows of crates inside of it with an unknown number of Droids within.

Their grenades and storming of the belts had merely taken out the Droids in the open, what came next was frantic close quarters combat with an unknown number of Droids. It was going to be frantic, there was going to be dozens of casualties, and all they would have to show for it would be a tiny little room in an insignificant city on a forgotten planet that was only famous because of the battle being waged on it.

Eight shrugged himself out of his thoughts and rolled over the belt, ducking his upper body down low and running toward the first set of crates. On the other side he could hear the little noises that was the reason they called them Clankers in the first place. In this situation, he had very little input to the decision making. The Clones had protocols they followed and Eight could only follow behind as they made their way up. Assuming they were going to survive long enough for that to matter that is.

The Flash Clones didn't even need to signal to each other as they prepared to assault the Droids on the other side. Weapons up, the Clones split into 2 groups, for each set of crates. Flashbangs went around the corners, their bright lights capable of temporarily frying a Droid's sensors. It was enough for them to get in close and take advantage of the Droid's design. Their joints were major flaws, knees, and arms being on simple axles that if pressure was applied sideways into them, could break them.

As the designated Flash Clones threw their grenades around the corners, the rest of them moved in, rushing around the crates and into the corridors between each of the crates. Each one was made of durasteel likely, thick enough for space transport, square for ease of stacking. Enough to resist Blaster Bolts and Thermal Detonators.

Eight waited, his turn would come soon enough. The Flash Clones tended to die in droves when they were breaching fortifications, the ones when he had when he had first assumed control of a platoon were all dead, the second, third, fourth, fifth and thirteenth batch were all dead as well. He was not sure he had ever met a Flash Clone that had survived longer than 3 months.

The sounds of Blaster fire on the other side sounded out, the moans of wounded Flash Clones, the crashing sounds of falling Droids signifying that the short but brutal engagement was over. At the sandbags were a set of Clones, lines of fire down the entire hall. It would be difficult for the Droids to reinforce once the Clones had established an overwatch, at the same time it would be difficult for the Clones to reinforce if the Droids pushed them out.

The next set of sacrifices, or rather Clones moved in to reinforce their brothers on the other side, leaping over the sandbags and barriers, moving in for the next assault.

And so it repeated, the Clones dying as they secured another set of crates, more of the reinforcing and they pushed deeper in. The problem came when there weren't enough Clones left, of the 37 they had started out with for the hall push, there were now less than 13 left. The attack stalled and waiting for reinforcements. Eight had taken up a position as overwatch on one of the barriers, blaster trained down range at any Droid crossers or reinforcements.

A stalemate had settled in, every now and again the Droids would attempt to push on through, their numbers being apparently endless. The Clones would repel them with little effort, the Droids being forced to move into the open and in turn took hits as they tried to push out. Still, something had to give and the Clones unlike the Droids felt fatigue, it had been only been an hour but many of them were feeling the effects of prolonged combat.

There weren't enough Clones, Eight was going to need to push up as part of the next group. He chuckled to himself and formed himself after the alpha breacher. Grenade around the left of the crates, and he was rushing in. Alpha was taking the left, he would be taking the middle and charlie would be going right. A trident formation essentially. And here they were, right into the middle of it, Blaster up, pew pew pew, burst fire into the chest of 1 droid, pew pew pew, down goes a second.

Rushing up, red bold going past his face on the left side, groans, Alpha down. Transition to the left, securing Alpha's position, firing down. Dead Droids, left right. Return fire continues, misses, hits Clones behind. Firing. Droids down left, right. Still going. Too much. Keep going, Droid too close, leg squat, leg sweep, Droid goes down, pew pew pew, chest destroyed. Standing back up, keep pushing up, Droid too close, right side this time, shoulder check, knock off balance, leave for the Clones behind. Keep going. Keep shooting.

And then it was over. The corridor between the crates had been cleared and they only lost 3 Clones. Only 3 Clones. Eight shook his head, the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins as his body automatically moved to secure the position. Taking a kneeling position to the leftmost side of the crates, he kept an eye down the long corridor. Eyes open, arms still shaking.

Thankfully from behind there were reinforcements, the Flash Clones moving in to assist and the process repeated itself. Flash Clones dying to buy a few meters of ground, more Flash Clones dying to defend it and Eight just sitting back and watching or hearing it all. What empathy he had for the Clones had been washed out from the constant war he had been forced to undergo. The fact that he was a Clone being apparently enough reason for him to be used as a weapon, without concern for his body, mental wellbeing or even his dietary choices. He wanted meat, not that damned paste they called rations.

Still, they pushed on, a feeling of apathy setting in. Even when the third platoon came to reinforce and drove the Droids out of the hall and into the hallway, that itself connected to the internal stairs, Eight didn't really feel any sense of jubilation. He merely moved behind a crate to set up overwatch on the hallway entrance.

Even when word came that there would be no more reinforcements, the Droids having taken part of the Fourth level, namely the part directly underneath them, he hadn't cared. He had shouted out orders that vaguely resembled locations to set up defences, but he wasn't too sure what it was he said exactly. It was enough certainly for the Flash Clones to set up a defensive perimeter around the ladders, the hole in the ceiling and the hallway doors. Others were set up inside and around the hall itself, in case the Droids decided to blast through the ceiling in their next assault.

The ladder perimeter might not have been such a good idea in hindsight Eight conceded, the Droids were throwing grenades up through the holes, catching 3 troopers unawares. At least they died quickly, not like the ones moaning behind the third belt.

There had been a few other Kaminoans there, Eight wasn't too sure what happened to them really, but when the Droids attacked through the hallway and nearly pushed them out, one had rushed them and used his body to physically block them. It was enough to buy them enough time to get the residue of the flashbangs out of their eyes and set up again. Not enough to save the Clone, but at least they still held this little corner of the facility.

Eight sighed, he wasn't even sure what the point of them being here was. Just level the place and start again, it wasn't as if it was worth anything he figured. Sure the guys in high command figured they needed the vantage points but for an average grunt, this was nothing but a deathtrap.

As the hours drew on, however, Eight and the other Clones were feeling the fatigue. They heard fighting downstairs, the tiny pitch variations that told whether or not it was a Republican Blaster or a Separatist one telling them which side the battle was going. Right now there was more Republican fire so clearly the Clones were winning, but the Separatists never let them have the upper hand for long.

Still, Eight wanted them to push up and relieve him, it had been nearly 18 hours since they entered the damn building and many of the Clones were about to fall asleep on their feet. If it kept going, they were going to die when the Droids just walked in, past all the sleeping Clones and shot them in the head.

Eight yawned and continued to sit behind his crate. Staring at the now dark hallway entrance, maybe there would be another Droid coming through to wake him up. Maybe he would die, this time, a blaster bolt to the head, something nice and quick.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

Machine eased her way into the building.

Hands carefully shifting any wires, leaves or dirt that had been disturbed back the way they were as her legs made their way through the little window, her chest following behind. She was at ease, or as close as an SDF trooper could be at ease, the rest of the team had made their way in already, her taking rearguard as usual.

Their mission this time, was to help destabilize the Republic by assassinating an opponent of the Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine. The target was a human senator who had been calling for more peace talks with the Separatists, calling for more oversight in the realm of military spending and an accounting of the loss of life so far. An idealist essentially, not the most palatable of people but not the worst either.

They had been dropped in via aircar, the countless numbers of them in the sky of Coruscant making for decent cover. The Caretakers had pushed their tentacles deep into the Republic, the Black Market smugglers now working for the Caretakers, pushing a bit of cargo here, a few people there, easy to lose things that made life easier for the SDF on the other side.

For them, it was just a matter of entering a Cargo-Hauler in a habitation block, the same kind of design that the Separatists had pioneered the use of. Then they merely just waited as the block itself was transferred from planet to planet, ship to ship before reaching Coruscant and being unpacked at the official spaceport.

For them, however, they had left it slightly earlier, changing their clothing to resemble spaceport janitors and leaving out of a hidden access port while the block was waiting on the tarmac. The dignitaries inside never knew they had stowaways. Their training had allowed them to take it from there, walking casually through the crowds and blending in. Machine as the only Twi'Lek had to put on extra makeup however, a few fake Lekku to hide the fact that hers had been amputated. Something that obvious would jog several memories once the target had been eliminated and if they were competent enough to be looking through the security footage.

A cap, some overalls and the team of 5 made their way out of the spaceport without anyone noticing anything different.

From there it was a simple trip to the black market dealer that they had the address of, picking up their equipment then heading to the rendezvous point where there was an aircar waiting for them. Then, it was a simple matter of waiting, the Senator held very regular hours, so regular in fact that they could work out exactly where the Senator was at any given time block, a walking clock was the Senator. For their goals, they wanted to strike at 1600, when the Senator was walking to the bedroom, in the hallway where the lighting fixtures were connected to a central control panel and there wasn't any other entrances or exits for 20 meters.

The perfect place to set an ambush as well as the perfect place to ensure they wouldn't be counter ambushed. There were Senatorial Guards to protect him, as there were for all Senators but they weren't allowed inside the building. A simple matter of bypassing them, making their way to the Senator, ending the poor thing and leaving. The body would be discovered in the morning by the cleaning maids and by then they would be in hiding.

The general plan concocted by the Caretakers called for the destabilization of the Republic by casting a dubious light onto the Supreme Chancellor by means of having all of his political rivals killed or taken out in some manner. Even the most stupid of commenters would realise what was happening and doubt would be cast on the esteemed Chancellor, who very conveniently had an army ready to go, just in time for war. Very suspicious indeed.

It would not solve the problems inherent to the Republic, its bloated and useless Senate for one, but it was a step in the plan. The SDF knew the general outline of the plan, the specifics had been left to the Caretakers, the SDF would just complete the missions assigned, trusting that they had real world impacts beyond more dead people.

Revenge would be had by the SDF when the Republic eventually imploded, hastened by their "assistance". Hence why they were here in the first place, willing and able to assist.

The Separatists were not much better, their greed having grown in proportion to the war itself. A few of their number would need removing for the reforms planned by the Caretakers to take root. At the same time, the Droid armies needed to be slowed down, the Clones needed some victories in order for Palpatine's fall to be that much more dramatic.

Build him up then make him fall, a very old tactic to be sure, but an effective one.

And so Machine eased her way into the penthouse suite of the skyscraper. It being open enough to allow for the growing of plants, so high above the pollution clouds that choked the residents below that the plants were able to survive at all. It was a large, rather opulent design, a building that was itself several stories high, a block wide, and filled with treasures beyond comprehension.

It becoming rather obvious that his staunch opposition to the war was not rooted in a desire for peace or happiness, but a concern regarding the Senator's profit margins. The war was very clearly cutting into profits judging from the exotic items on display, the embargo, and blockades preventing much luxury good trade within the Republic.

Machine didn't care, opulent, poor, fat, skinny, none of it mattered. What mattered was that it was a Senator and Machine was given permission to end the Senator. Machine thought about how she would do it, a knife to the gut? A bullet to the throat? A hand around the neck?

Vengeance was at hand and she was salivating in anticipation.

They crept down the corridors of the house, mansion, big structure. The team moved quietly, their weapons up to their shoulders, eyes down the sights, swiveling to the left, to the right, up and down. Every angle that could be possibly checked was being checked. There would be very little if any chance of being discovered, the team having timed their entrance meticulously, but there was always the chance that something would go wrong. As it often did, this so-called Murphy that the instructors quoted being incredibly right. "If it can go wrong, it will go wrong."

The SDF took this to heart and every plan made was made with as much redundancy as possible, assuming that they could be found at any moment, their cover blown and they would have to fight their way out. It was also why each of them was loaded with enough ammunition and weaponry to take on and kill a large portion of the entire Senatorial Guard on their own.

There wouldn't be any blasters, the damn things were too loud and made whoever fired them a prime target for anyone with half a brain. The SDF were using their specialized shard guns, weapons that fired tiny shards of deadly neurotoxin, delivered straight into the bloodstream and to the brain with a single press of the trigger. It was a Caretaker designed weapon, one big block of solidified neurotoxin, shaved off and fired every time. It wouldn't penetrate armour but the target didn't have any in the first place.

Their secondaries were hand-held blasters in the event things got loud and they had to shoot their way out. It wouldn't do to be using neurotoxins when there was the possibility of cameras around. Little thermal detonators installed into the shard guns would be enough to destroy the evidence, the SDF also carrying personalized thermal detonators in the event that they were about to be captured and needed to suicide themselves. Brutal but expected.

Machine swept the corridor to her right, tracking the head of a maid as she polished a set of… jawbones? It didn't matter, the maid was a liability so long as the team was in the open, sight was on her head and it wouldn't leave until they were past. The team shuffle walked their way down, the maid thankfully didn't didn't turn around. Machine hated the Republic but she did not hate the people, they were stupid and easily led, no, it was the politicians and those with money that she hated. It was their decisions, their willing blindness that had seen her and her sisters enslaved for entertainment and "spreading culture".

The strike on the homeworld was already in the planning and the SDF Twi'leks were more than eager to be part of it. There would be a terrible vengeance and she would be the speartip… or probably the rearguard of the speartip, but close enough.

It was 1555, they had arrived as planned and were now setting themselves up. Machine had won the game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors" that the Caretakers had introduced and was as such, allowed to kill the Senator. There was a moment of indecision before she decided to keep it simple, dropping down from the ceiling behind the Senator, grabbing the fool's head, knife to the throat and a slice. The head would be taken and planted in the center of the entrance to the mansion, a display in brutality. Then tomorrow and the night after and the night after that, as more heads piled up, the Coruscant political elite would realise something was happening and it would be glorious.

Machine knocked herself out of her fantasy, the Senator was here, walking underneath, oblivious to his fate. She ran a quick mental check, nothing out of place, and dropped down.

Hand to the chin, lifting it upwards, silencing the Senator and also leaving the neck open. Right hand with the knife, lay it across the neck, monomolecular blade pulls and it was over. Nothing unprofessional like saying "regards from the Outer Rim", just a simple cut down the windpipe. Blood spraying all over the thick carpet, the Senator briefly struggling, arms flailing, legs kicking. And it was over, the Senator weakly stopped and merely hung there, propped up by Machine's hand. Machine held a little longer, just in case the Senator was faking it.

Nothing. Hmmm. Nothing still. Good.

Machine held the head up by the skull, inserted her blade in behind the neck and cut again. This time, the body weakly flopped into the ever widening pool of its blood, the head firmly gripped in her hand. Machine gave a little nod and signaled the team, time to begin phase 2.

The corridor would be undisturbed until 0300, time for the maids to begin cleaning in preparation for the Senator waking up. Enough time for the team to make their way out quietly. Not that they planned to, phase 2 involved a little more… publicity. They needed to pretend that it was more difficult than it actually was, to have the Senators think they stood a chance against the "assassins" that were coming after them. Make it easier for the SDF later on as the Senatorial Guards defending from the wrong direction. To that end, Machine walked to the entrance hall, dropped the head onto the awaiting plinth and gave the signal.

From across the highway, Blaster bolts began to fly out, landing with pinpoint accuracy on the Senatorial Guard. Machine's team was busy firing their blasters at the walls and furniture, the maids and servants being shot with the shard guns. Only it was a non-lethal concoction, this time, it wasn't their fault they were serving a Senator.

Once the entire mansion looked like it was part of a warzone, Machine tripped the silent alarm for Senatorial Guard reinforcements before exfiltrating with her team. When the Senatorial Guard arrived, they would arrive to find the entire mansion quiet, the guard dead, the Senator made a display of and the servants drugged to sleep.

They would try to keep it quiet, an increasingly impossible task once more bodies joined the growing pile. As it was, there were 2 dead Senators after tonight, next week there would be another 2 dead, more bodies piling up as they cut their way through the Senate. It was only a matter of time once people connected the Senators to their common link, that of a staunch anti-war position.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine would be doing some elaborate dancing to get out of this one. And if he failed? Well, it made the replacing of him and his like with the proper people, that much easier.

Toppling the Republic sounded like a great revenge for the suffering of the Outer Rim.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

Caretakers had taken great pains to ensure the continued prosperity and development of the Outer Rim, while it was indeed the largest section of space in the galaxy, it was also the most barren and frankly… useless. The only things keeping it alive were the minuscule resources they could pull from their worlds and the salvage that came from battles eons ago. Its peoples were the only real resource available and many Outer Rim worlds had sold their peoples into slavery to trade for resources. A trade sanctioned and approved by those of the Republic and Confederacy of Independent Systems alike.

The Caretakers had upended this system by bringing their own resources from offworld, building their infrastructure and their peoples up to be something of worth. The problem being that they had very little to work with, the two years in between had given the peoples something to work with, but at the same time it gave them something to yearn for. The Caretakers had to be careful, their transportation of resources in had to be justified at some point or there would be too much scrutiny aimed their way.

The foothold had been established and now the foundation was to be prepared. The Caretakers were moving into phase 2 of the Outer Rim expansion, the possibility was rather high that they might consider taking a few select individuals of the Outer Rim species and turning them into client races. Particularly the Twi'leks with their extrasensory abilities which made them particularly intriguing in terms of biology, the Minds wanted to experiment and see what would happen.

A few clones had been made, but disappointingly they merely had a few extra organs, nothing much. At least they were compatible with the humans, Cultivator Twi'leks were rather interesting.

For the rest of it, the Minds left the logistics to the HeMUs, while they could do it personally, the HeMUs were more prone to error, making things rather interesting in the long run.

Right now, for example, the HeMUs were creating asteroids made of pure metals to be towed to the Outer Rim worlds for processing. A way for them to "work" as it were. The problem that the HeMUs hadn't quite realised was that by shipping huge, Continent-sized asteroids made of pure minerals, was that there would be some very pointed questions as to where it came from.

The Separatists and the Republic that were worried about a materials shortage would be at the forefront of those questioners. Making it a very likely chance they would try and take the minerals by force or "protection" as the Republic would label it. The Caretakers and the SDF would be pulled into the war much sooner than predicted and it would be very interesting to see how they compared. Two sides built for a very conventional and straightforward war, versus a military designed to combat that very same force through asymmetrical warfare. An SDF that had the entire Outer Rim to work with in terms of space and stockpiles.

Yes, it would be very interesting indeed.

The Separatists or rather the Confederacy of Independent Systems had not had much change at all during the 2 years of the war. Their peoples being largely insulated from the war due to their use of Droids, the Clankers merely continuing along unabated as their factories churned out millions of them a day. While they were smarter and better designed than previously, they also took somewhere in the range of 50-1 casualties in their engagements. A matter that was beginning to be of concern as the Republic pressed into service new vehicles to make up for the dismal failure of their previous designs.

The Separatist ones had to be retrofitted and melted down for the newer models. While their new models were highly efficient and effective versus the older Republic models, they were less effective in fighting the new designs off. Their designs leaning more towards ambushing and overwhelming numerical advantages compared to the giant target designs of the Republic. The newer models were geared towards counter-attack models, aiming to receive hits and then dish them back out with extreme accuracy and firepower.

The newer air transports even had these new-fangled devices called flares which disrupted targeting systems. Making it much more difficult to acquire a target as well as to take it down in the first place. It was something that had to be addressed, their armour Superiority had allowed them to resist the Republic in the first place, without it, their inferior infantry would be pushed out and destroyed. They barely held the cities as it was, if the Republic gained the advantage in the open fields, they were facing a very undesirable situation.

As it was, their grand offensive to take the Republic in a single strike had been stopped by the advent of the new Flash clones, their numbers enough to blunt the advance. While the Republic did not have the ships to effectively counter the Separatist fleet, they found it difficult to win the ground war. Production ramped up and the Separatist war machine began to pump out more Droids, if they could not win via quality, they would fall back on quantity.

Clone Wars 23 BBY - Star Wars Universe - Minus 1 Year

The Republic was finally getting its footing in the war. What had initially seemed like a fight with the odds on their side had instead switched to them being pushed back. The Separatist war machine being changed in its entirety seemingly overnight, the Droid armies morphing into one designed specifically to counter the Clone Army.

They had been on the back feet as the Droids made a mockery of their designs. The AT-TE was found to be lacking on every single level of its design, from concept to final execution. The idea of a heavily armoured, infantry transport with an artillery grade cannon mounted on a walker, should have tripped every alarm on the munitions board, yet it made it past trials and somehow became approved of as the main armoured vehicle of the Clone Army.

It was incompetence that was apparently systemic, the infantry transport vehicles both air and land displaying the same levels of incompetence. The large walker that could transport an entire Platoon of infantry was also 3 stories high and was open topped, meaning it was a prime target of attack, slow and most importantly, vulnerable target for all manner of indirect munitions, mortars, full bore artillery, strafing runs, firebombs, Thermal Detonators, bricks, rocks and sand if they were bored. A walking deathtrap in other words.

The LAAT class of gunship/transport was at its very core a dismal failure. It was not pressurized for atmosphere despite being based off orbital platforms, armour not even able to handle massed blaster fire, speed barely enough to be considered slow. What made the insult worse was that its side gunners were in little balls on the exterior of the craft, its pilots protected by a glass canopy and they had the gall to strap little hoverbikes to it.

The Venator Class and its carrier equivalent, the Acclamator Class, were exercises in compromise. Vast ships armed with pitiful amounts of weaponry, a tiny amount of actual troopers and craft and a waste of resources. Whoever designed them should be shot for incompetence. New designs that were actually useful were required immediately, the Fleets were barely able to hold even due to their superior crews, out maneuvering the Droid equivalents and hitting them in the rear. They took horrendous losses to do so, losses that could have been avoided. Losses that were the fault of whatever idiot designed the ships.

Admiral Jehuty of the Republic Grand Fleet, now the chair of the munitions board read the files before him with mounting rage. He had known that his armies were floundering in the field, that his navies were barely breaking even in space. He had assumed perhaps that it was the Clones, their training not able to simulate the real world, being dumped into a situation of do or die seeing them die more often than not.

But no. His men and women were more than adequate, even those Flash Clones, move and talk like Droids but had more guts than any other organic in his damn Fleet.

No, it was not his crews or his soldiers, it was the piece of shit equipment that they had been issued. He had been given full authority and intended to exercise it, effective immediately.

"George!" He bellowed, the voice of a man used to commanding a bridge dozens of meters wide.

"Sir!" Saluted his aide, sprinting into the office. The man had come with him from his command of a tiny frigate to a full sized Venator Class.

"Memo!"

"Ready sir!" His pen and paper out in a flash.

"Start. Effective immediately all design crews for the AT-TE, Republic Line Ships, LAAT craft, Transport Vehicles and small arms weapons are to be shot under my power as Munitions Board Chief. All members of the Munitions Board who approved of the designs, all who took part in the approval process and all those who promoted the designs are to be shot under the same powers. Their charges are sedition, aiding the enemy in war and conspiring to betray the Republic. Any who escape are to be branded as traitors to the Republic, shoot on sight! Stop!" He thundered, face becoming progressively red as the veins on his neck bulged out under his beard.

"Sir!" Saluted the aide. "Permission to speak sir!"

"Granted."

"Why have them executed sir?"

"Captain, incompetence is forgivable, abject failure that cost billions of lives is not. They will be the lesson and I will issue as many goddamn lessons as I need to until they learn. Dismissed."

"Sir!" Saluted his aide again, running out of the tool to print out the order for him to sign most likely.

The Republic needed a shakeup of its military, Admiral Jehuty only hoped that it wouldn't be too late.

Taking out a pen, he hated the new fangled keyboards, he began to write out a list of requirements for the new vehicles and ships of the Republic Army and Fleet.

As he did so, he mumbled under his breath.

"Capable of amphibious assault…

"Capable of moving over rough terrain…

"Main gun capable of taking out all Droid vehicular armour…"

His thoughts occupied as he worked out what was necessary for the Clones to do their job. It was a sorely needed change and it would take a while but it better now, and not when they lost the war.

Lisa Blissex sat at the design table, hunched over it, eyes staring at the blueprint she had painstakingly spent the last 2 years creating.

When the door was kicked in, she ignored it. Her masterpiece was nearly complete and it needed just a tiny touch extra before she could call it done. Yes, her masterpiece. Her Magnum Opus. The greatest thing she had ever done, the Imperial Class Star Destroyer.

1600 meters long, it had 60 medium guns. Sixty of them! It had 60 ion guns! 10 tractor beams! It was amazing! It would be the pinnacle of ship design she was sure. The greatest ship to ever sail the sea between the stars.

"Lisa Blissex, you have been accused of treason, please come with us." Said a voice, somewhere to her right.

"I can't! Cannot you see? I have nearly finished it! The greatest ship to ever be created!" She yelled at them, how dare they not understand the beauty of the Star Destroyer?

"It's fucking hideous. She designed the Venator? No wonder we're losing most of our naval engagements. Damn thing doesn't even have point defence." Said a voice to the left.

She let out a screech of rage and pulled out the blaster from underneath the table. How dare they?!

She stood up and got a glimpse of those that dared humiliate her for the first time. 8 Clone troopers, blasters aimed directly at her.

"Yo, bitch. Fives and Springtime send their regards, your shitty Venator couldn't even take on one Clanker frigate."

What? Lies! The Venator Class was the best ship ever designed! How dare they!

With a guttural growl, she raised the blaster only to be gunned down where she stood.

"Target is down, moving back to exfil point."

"Heh, at least Fives can rest in peace."

"Not yet, the guy who designed the AT-TE hasn't been found yet. Fucker ran. Springtime's the one that died on the Adjutant."

"If he ran as fast as his tank, it shouldn't be hard to catch up."

A morbid chuckle came from the squad, their brothers were being avenged. It had taken a little while but vengeance was at hand.

Yes, she dies. Always hated the inefficient design of Star Wars Space Ships, Imperial ones look like knives and fight in knife range. It's like they don't care about the poor suckers who need to crew them.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

Ahsoka frowned, it was her first solo mission, investigate a colony that had gone dark, report back and try to keep herself alive. The colony was apparently a place where humans who had tried to escape the Separatists had been set up, full of scientists and engineers who had defected. It was here that science was being done, or so it appeared, Ahsoka didn't understand what they were talking about when it came to refracting magnetic fields for plasma redirection, but she knew it was probably something really important.

As it was, however, her Master and Obi-Wan Kenobi had been sent back to Coruscant to deal with what was becoming an epidemic of dead Senators, leaving her alone on the Ascendent. They had expected nothing to happen, merely a few calls, send in the Clones and make sure that there wasn't anything too dangerous she could involve herself in. Her Master wanted her safe after all.

Only after the first call, there was a second, third and fourth in the same jurisdiction, the Ascendent didn't have enough Clones to defend all of them. Ahsoka therefore, volunteered for the one that required her specialist skills and also would have been the most manpower intensive, the investigation mission.

She had to do it solo, the Clones weren't nearly as good as she was when it came to sneaking around, in fact, they were pretty much abysmal at it. Sure they were good in mortal terms, but in Jedi terms? Nowhere close.

Recent changes in doctrine had seen the induction of drop-pods, small 1 man vehicles that were fired out of a spaceship for an orbital insertion. It wasn't the most comfortable of rides but it was fast, quiet and most of all, a tiny target. She was landing several kilometers away from the colony, itself a massive structure, a dozen kilometers wide and a hundred meters tall. Inside were living quarters, food service, landing pads, sciencing rooms and who knows what else. Ahsoka hadn't gotten outside much, first her Jedi apprenticeship, her deployment as part of the Grand Army, her training as part of the Blockade Forces, her deployment as part of the Blockade Forces… Ahsoka realised that she was more comfortable and familiar with military installations than she was with civilian ones. A distinctly disturbing thought.

Still, she had a general objective, get to the main server room with the AI modules that controlled the Colony's facilities, get it online if it was off, recover the data and then get to the extraction point. She wasn't expected to do anything like fight off a hundred Battle Droids or something as ridiculous as that, just do her job and get out while she still could.

She had the layout of the colony programmed into her helmet, a big plus in the whole plan to penetrate it in the first place. Sadly she also lacked the keys to get in, or keycards or eyeballs, whatever they used. Her splicing skills were nowhere near as good as Master Obi-Wan's, she would need to find an alternate path. Luckily the facility had many vents spread throughout it, like the veins of a body. Each one was also big enough for her to crouch and crawl through, something that was very appreciated, that was for sure. She had to find whoever designed the facility and thank them later.

The drop-pod had come down and deployed its air brakes, stopping the orange glow that indicated something from orbit was burning through the atmosphere. It was still going extremely fast, so much so that if the jets underneath the pod failed… well, she would be canned meat soup. Not a pleasant thought, she had seen what happened to people who didn't maintain their drop-pods. They had all been forced to sit through that hologram vid as it played. Even though Clone Armour was meant to hold its shape… when a person was turned into soup, the entire thing looked like a twisted blob with a Clone helmet on it. Not something she wanted to experience for herself. At least it would be almost instantaneous if the reports were correct, she wouldn't even feel it.

She couldn't even use Force Push on it either, if it wasn't traveling fast enough when it hit the critical point, then the jets wouldn't activate. While it was slow, it was not slow enough to stop her breaking all the bones in her body. Ahsoka breathed in and tried to control her thoughts, imagining all the ways that you could die while dropping was not a good use of her time. Better to imagine the drop-zone and work out a good means of travel. She was landing in a tiny clearing approximately 5 kilometers from the colony, the path blocked by an extremely dense forest with wide and interconnecting trees, each of them nearly a hundred meters tall. She would need to go tree-hopping, stay in the canopy to avoid being detected.

As it was, there was the possibility that the Droids were already there, on the ground and waiting for her to make her way through, ambush ready. It would be dangerous, Force Jumping through a forest at night was a good way to get a branch into the face, the darkness hid those very well. It wasn't like she had much of a choice, however, the objective needed to be completed and it looked like she was the one to do it.

BOOM

The drop-pod impacted the earth, the hatch blasted open due to the miniature explosives on the door-frame, and Ahsoka immediately leapt out and rolled. If there was an ambush waiting, using the trajectory of the incoming pod and predicting its landing location, it was best if she distanced herself as much as possible from the pod itself.

Roll finished, a leap and Ahsoka was into the tree tops, she paused to look over the landing site. Nothing. Good. It didn't mean that they didn't know she was coming, but at least they wouldn't know where she would be coming in from. She had 5 kilometers and there was a lot of different paths she could take when there was still 5 kilometers between her and the Colony.

She jumped off the tree, legs propelling her in a middling arc through the forest, tree to tree, the wind whistling around her. Not that she noticed, the armour she wore had a fitted bodysuit underneath, temperature controlled and warm, her skin denied to the outer elements. This, of course, meant that the only physical symptoms, that indicated she was traveling through the forest at a clip that would see her dead if she mistimed a Push was the air resistance.

Tree to tree, head constantly scanning the forest in front, behind, below and around her. Constantly watching, constantly vigilant. Her own sensory abilities were boosted by the montral on her head, it being a natural means of echolocation. She had been taught to make full use of her abilities and that meant training her biological ones in her spare time, not just the Force.

Through the forest, scanning, searching. Her path had been pre-mapped on the descent and she stuck to it. Not a straight path, that would be crazy, but rather a roundabout one where she curved her path, following the natural terrain.

She found nothing and that was concerning to the highest degree. What if it was a massive trap? What if the Droids had cut off the facility and raided the other locations to draw her out? What if they tried to lure her in so that she could be the bait for her Master? Oooooh. This was a bad idea, she should have waited. But if she did then the disappearance of an entire colony would be her fault. Oooooh. No choices either way, she thought about it.

Ahsoka shook her head to bring herself back to the present, she was nearing the edge of the forest and there were what looked like Droids on the edge of the colony, regular B1 Battle Droids. Why were they here?

Ahsoka perched herself on a branch (making sure it could support her weight first), looking over the Colony. It was one thing to look at the Colony via the holographic view, it was another to see the Colony in person. It was essentially a large cylinder, squat on the ground and rising up, past the treeline, marking itself as something distinct and artificial. As if it were placed here deliberately as a trap.

Ahsoka wasn't sure she even wanted to go in there, everything about it rang out as "TRAP!". She ran a personal check on her equipment, almost absentmindedly. A small high backpack resting on her shoulder blades contained flares, most of her rations, a bigger radio in case she was stranded and a survival kit. Most of her immediate use equipment was stuck on the vest on her chest, stretching down to her stomach. Ammunition for her blaster pistol, Thermal Detonators, Ion Grenades, some of her rations and another lightsaber. She had been thinking about dual wielding a lightsaber for a while and most of the time in the Blockade Forces was spent waiting regardless. Might as well use it to train herself further.

Ahsoka nodded to herself, it was a reasonable consideration. That and it looked really cool when she did a front/backflip over a target, cutting them into pieces with her two lightsabers then holding her arms at a 45-degree angle with the lightsabers on. It looked sooooooo cool. She definitely did not attempt to record herself doing the drop over and over to perfect her landing. She quite definitely did not delete the recordings in a panic when her Master had done a surprise inspection of her room (or rather was asking if she wanted to get dinner).

Still, the little voice in the back of her head was not going to be stopping anytime soon. It demanded she do something about the absolutely insane position she was putting herself in, a giant base in them middle of a forest, a lone Jedi… a female Jedi? A young Jedi? She was sure there was going to be some kind of tentacle monster in there, waiting for her, and she was going to have to fight it off while it coiled around her… no. Bad.

Ahsoka admonished herself, apparently the her without the Midichlorian control was an Ahsoka that had a very active imagination. It had been a pain to work with, every mission was one that was filled with foretold doom, everything that could result in death was going to result in death. What was originally an Ahsoka that thought about conspiracy theories, became an Ahsoka that thought about everything strange, out of place and possibly evil as something out to get her, also daydreams, lots of daydreams.

Combined with an imagination that followed every single thread of thought to its logical conclusion was an Ahsoka that was rapidly becoming psychotic or insane. Still, she had much less angst now compared to Midichlorian Ahsoka, it was nice to be able to get some proper sleep for once without her emotions going crazy inside of her.

Still, it paid to listen to her subconscious, as perverted and insane as it was. The Droids were patrolling down below, a squad of 10 of them crossing the wall in regular intervals. She was going to take out one of them, grabbing it's Blaster, ammunition and more importantly the information regarding the Droid patrols outside and inside the colony. While her own splicer abilities were not up to standard to be able to actually retrieve the information, the pre-programmed protocols she had received from the armoury was.

There.

The patrol was directly underneath her, she wouldn't be doing her patented lightsaber wing drop today, no, she would be doing this more quietly. She wouldn't enjoy it, but it was necessary. Ahsoka gave a brief mental sigh, being awesome didn't translate very well to being effective.

A drop, a quick grab of the Droid, and a jump back into the canopy. A B1 Droid didn't have an SOS system like the Commando Droids, made it easier to grab the information that was for sure. Ahsoka ripped off its head, jammed the splicer tool down the chest cavity and turning it on. Buffering, Buffering, Buffering, done.

The routes were now laid out in her helmet's HUD map. The Commando bots and other leadership units weren't included, she needed to grab their data for that. Still, it was better than nothing.

She left the Droid in the tree and jumped across the gap of the treeline and the Colony. The best entrance was on the 3rd floor, there was a patrol that had just passed through, enough time for her to crawl into the vent and sneak in. Not having a patrol might of meant there were Commandos, not the best way to be discovered considering how effective they were in comparison to the B1s which at least let her dodge.

First use Force Pull to rip out the vent cover and she was in. Now was the time, what fun.

After Activation 1121 - Origin Universe

After Insertion 1082 - Cultivation Universe

Millennium 095-32M - 40k Universe

Clone Wars 24 BBY - Star Wars Universe

"She is in." Said the disembodied voice, crisp, clean, direct, nice.

"Good. Good. What level is she on?" Asked the second voice, deep, authoritative, strong.

"The 3rd floor, currently tailing a squad of Basic Battle Droids."

"Good. Good. Begin the test. If she thinks she's worthy of my grandson, she had another thing coming."

But she never said she wanted to date your grandson thought the first voice.

Ahsoka used her control over the Force to keep her body in the upper corner of the corridor, crawling along behind the Droids. The B1 Battle Droids were walking along, circling around the colony exterior windows/walls. Ahsoka had to deviate from the path, head deeper into the Colony and down to the basement. The server room was on the bottom-most floor and contained her objective. She would need to head down there to find out what happened to the Colony.

At the same time, she saw no colonists at all. There was no sign of there being bodies around the area or even signs of a struggle. If there had been colonists escaping from the Separatists, Ahsoka would have expected them to have at least fought back.

"You won't take her!" Shouts the man, blaster in one hand as he stands heroically against the Battle Droids coming down the corridor. In his other arm was a beautiful Togruta female, scantily clad in scraps of cloth, her arms around his neck.

"Hank! No! You can't do this. Leave me!" She shouted, hugging him closer as she spoke, belying her words.

"No, I won't let you go again!" Says Hank, his voice deep and throbbing.

"Oh Hank!" Says the female, one that looked suspiciously like Ahsoka but older.

Hank runs down the corridor, blaster firing with deadly accuracy behind him as he does so, striking the Droids in their heads, destroying them with a single strike every time. His casual charm and poise winning over any who might be able to see him, his sex appeal almost dripping from him.

Bad Ahsoka.

Ahsoka brought herself back to reality. Her subconscious mind had discovered something that was very possibly dangerous. Her montrals had found something in the background, somewhere along the corridor branch from the left in front of her. It was coming this way and it was moving along at a much smoother pace than the B1 Droids did. Commandos.

Ahsoka closed her eyes again, creating a map in her head. There were 4 of them, too many for her to take down silently without them signaling their SOS, if they were spread further apart, she could have possibly done it. But with them all being almost in arms length of each other… there was no way for her to be able to do it without the alarm going off.

5 meters in front of her was a vent, it being covered by a grating and worst of all it was just ahead of the B1 Droid squad. The Commando team was about 30 seconds away from entering the T junction of the corridor and possibly turning her way. She had a very tight time schedule if the plan she had concocted on the sport was to work.

First use the Force to unscrew the bolts that secured the vent, but not enough that they fell onto the hard, metallic ground and alerted the Droids. From there she would wait until the Droid squad was past the vent and the Commando team was just entering the T-Junction before moving to the vent, unscrewing the last screws by hand, removing the vent cover, holding it and the screws in place while she crawled into the crawlspace, replacing the cover, rescrewing it with the Force and then breathing a sigh of relief.

In short, absolutely insane but the only option she had unless she was very prepared to spend another hour running back the way she came to find another path into the lower levels of the Colony, while also avoiding the Commando patrols and B1 Droid Patrols, as well as not alerting anything to her presence. She could not engage as it would alert the entire base to her presence and it would make her task almost impossible. Even if she killed off the ones in front of her now, a second patrol would find them and she would be discovered and then she would be on the run and then she would be dead.

Crazy few seconds of insanity now, or almost certain death later.

Ahsoka gave a mental sigh and began the plan, using an almost impossible level of control with the Force to use minute Force Pushes to unscrew the vent. Only it wasn't working. She wasn't using enough power clearly. Ahsoka gave a short huff of frustration and increased the power. Working!

Too much Working! The first bit was the hardest and it was unscrewing itself with extreme speed once the sticking point was worked past. Ahsoka gave a mental gasp of shock, using Force Push in on the screwheads themselves to push it against the threads and increase the friction, slowing it down. Ok, little bit less power and the screws were coming out. Or rather the screw was. There were 7 more.

Seven.

Ahsoka considered the suicidal route, it would probably be less effort than this. But her Master would probably be sad when she died so she refrained herself, it wouldn't do to explode everywhere from the blaster bolts now, no it wouldn't do at all.

Ahsoka continued, little bit of effort for the first part, less for the second and it was done. 30 seconds of time became 5, the Droid squad was just about to pass the vent now and the Droid Commandos were a few steps away. No time like the present.

Ahsoka leapt at the opposite wall, rolling mid-air so her feet could kick off when she landed. A quick 2 jumps and Ahsoka was at the vent, quickly doing the last bits of the screws, using the Force to do the last 6 (she was slow, it wasn't her fault), pulling out the vent cover and giving herself a push inside.

It was big enough that she could crouch and turn around it, something that made the next part easier, as she grabbed the vent cover, pulled it tight and focused as she used the Force to rescrew the screws.

A quick sigh of relief, woops, that was out loud, and Ahsoka crawled backward. She couldn't take the chance that maybe the Droids would look up and at her, ruining all of her effort. No, she would be doing this the smart way and not gloating over her minor victory. Especially considering that it was only the exterior patrols, it would probably get much worse the deeper she went in. It was a good thing that the vents themselves were so sturdy, on a normal one, there would be an almost insane amount of noise as she tried crawling through it. These had been very clearly designed for cleaner Droids to traverse through the facility… which in hindsight made using these a potentially catastrophic idea.

Her blaster didn't have a silencer option and a lightsaber was loud enough on its own.

Perhaps this was a bad idea…

As the sounds of Droid feet clanking along outside the vent entered Ahsoka's montrals, she reaffirmed her choice. Better just one Droid than an entire squad of them. That and the fact that the cleaner Droids would not be part of the Separatist network, making her actually safer inside than outside.

Yes, this was perfect justification. It was totally not going to bite her on her red shiny ass later. Dammit Ahsoka stop jinxing everything.

She crawled down along the vent, it was going to be a long minutes or hours as she crawled along the vent, then when it angled downwards, join it, then when it went straight down, drop. Then she would be on the first basement level, first of the 9 basements, the 9th being where the server control room was located.

In essence, Ahsoka had a lot more crawling to do, something she had done plenty of thanks to the Blockade Forces training regimen. She hated it then, she hated it now, but couldn't deny its usefulness. Being able to crawl through kilometers of vent without going crazy was a learned skill, something that would keep her sane for now… she was sure… hopefully. If she did go crazy then at least she would not be able to do any harm.

Dammit Ahsoka, it's only been 50 meters, keep it together.

She continued to crawl.

She was crawling, downwards now. It took a bit of effort to ensure that she wouldn't slide all the way down, while it would no doubt speed up her journey, it would also jostle the vent and make an obnoxious amount of noise, noise that would probably get her killed once the Droids found her. No, slow and steady wins the survival race.

A downward drop. Ahsoka considered the fact that she was in fact scared of heights. Then considered the fact that she enjoyed being alive, and not perforated with blaster bolts. She looked down the drop, the dozens of meters of it. All the way down. There were no lights in here, she had been subsisting off her echolocation the entire time, and while it was perfectly adequate, especially considering that it was part of her body in the first place. It would also be nice to be able to see again!

She gave a sigh, a proper one this time. A full chested sigh, breathe in as deep as she could, fill her lungs to bursting, hold it. Then release, all in one go, steady. Don't release it all at once, you want to make a statement with your sighs, let the whole world know that you have an issue and it's not going away anytime soon. Rinse and repeat as many times as necessary for your point to be made, make extra noises to emphasize exactly how bad the situation is.

Ok, enough procrastinating Ahsoka, get your ass down there.

And she dropped. Not at full speed, of course, a few Force Pulls, a Push here and there so she didn't approach terminal velocity, nor would she hit the sides of the vent and she would be safe… ish.

She had done the math… or rather her helmet had done the math. It would take approximately 12 seconds for her to reach the first basement level if the schematics were correct at full speed since she was going at half that then she had 24 seconds. A timer was operating in the bottom right of her HUD, ticking down to her impending doom.

20 seconds.

What would happen if the schematics were wrong and she smashed her legs open on the bottom? She would be left there… alone… to die. There was still another 20 meters of crawling across then a jump 10 meters up, she wouldn't be doing that on shattered legs. There was also solid durasteel surrounding the bottom of the vent, she wouldn't be able to just cut her way out and surrender to the Droids. Fuck. Bad idea Ahsoka. Should have thought this through.

15 seconds.

What if the droids already knew she was here? What if her going down was just delivering her straight to them? What if she wasn't as smart as she thought and those Commandos back at the exterior corridors had noticed her and alerted their fellows? Fellows that were not waiting for her? Fucking fuck. Should have just destroyed them while I had the chance, maybe stuff their parts into the vent to hide them.

10 Seconds.

What if the server room was all broken and she was coming down here for nothing? That she was just wasting her time and she should have just left when she saw the Droids? Dammit Ahsoka, you never think things through.

5 Seconds.

Force Pulls and Pushes. She wasn't going to trust the schematics, she wasn't going to take the risk of slowing down where it said she should. Do it early and at least she would keep her knees. Her very spindly and thin knees that would probably shatter at the slightest impact.

And ting, she was at the bottom. A deep, deep sigh of relief. She was alive, she had her legs and dammit, the Droids might be waiting for her anyway.

Ahsoka gave another sigh, or rather she tried. Her heart was beating at what felt like the cycle speed of a hoverbike's engine and her breath was coming out in short and sharp bursts. Never doing that again. Drop-pods are one thing, doing it with your own legs and no parachute is another.