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Phase 4: Welcome back to the war

=RK=

Part 5

CIC

Republic cruiser Repulse

Darkknell system

For once, Tarkin was pleasantly surprised by the enemy. So far at least.

There were no sudden Separatist reinforcements jumping after the Freedom and Veil. No sign that the enemy expected an attack, much less one of this magnitude. Even their numbers fell well into the expected quota. The Confederacy had a hundred or so more warships in system than the attacking Republic fleet, though such a meager disparity didn't really matter with one of those big Corellian cruisers on the field.

It wouldn't have mattered even without the Freedom. The enemy obviously got caught off guard. Their response was slow and sluggish, with too many ships dying before they knew what hit them. By the time the Separatists got organized and attempted a spoiling counter-attack meant to give the hundreds of transports in the system time to flee, it was too little too late. The fleet's second echelon arrived and Tarkin cut most of his light ships lose to hunt. Veil obviously had the enemy fleet well in hand if the 'battle' over Darkknell's northern pole was anything to go by.

"Tactical, is there something left worthy of our attention?" Wilhuff asked.

"We're still analyzing the sensor data, sir. There were an awfully lot of ships in here when the vanguard arrived."

"I'm not interested in excuses, only results, lieutenant." Tarkin shot an icy glare at the junior officer.

"Sir! Sorry, sir! It won't happen again!" The lieutenant's fingers flew over the controls of his console as if they were on fire. "There, sir!" He exclaimed in relief. "A group of thirty freighters trying to clear the outer asteroid field. Those are the type that haul either tibana gas or fuel!"

"Get us an intercept vector. Calculate a hyperspace jump. I want them nailed!" Tarkin exclaimed.

He smiled viciously. If those ships were loaded – that would be enough supplies for a whole fleet. Even if empty, they would make nice prizes. Prizes… Such a nice though.

"Belay the last. I want them captured if practical. Call our ground compliment. I've got a job for them… Cut Eleventh and Twenty Seventh Frigate Division loose. I want them to block those transports from entering hyperspace. Send the remaining light cruisers with them. Do I have a line with the troopers?" Wilhuff asked.

"I've got a commander Zed on the comm for you, admiral."

"Excellent. Commander, I've got a job for you. We have thirty volatile targets to capture. Tibana gas or fuel freighters. I need them intact if practical." Tarkin ordered.

"I'll assemble a boarding force. Time?"

"ASAP. We're on intercept course."

"Roger that. We'll get them, sir. Zed over and out."

=RK=

Assault shuttle 911-AN

En route to objective Resh

Darkknell system

"Lock and load. Eta one thirty." Sergeant Kole roared. "If I see any of you fools release the safety, I'll frag you myself, am I clear?!"

"Yes, sergeant!" The three squads packed in the cargo hold chorused as one.

"Damn right I am! Listen close, lads. We're going to board that damned Seppie freighter, then we're going to trash every single clanker we can find so hard, their assembly line won't recognize them! We're going to shoot them up, bash them, kick their tiny droid brains right out of their tiny clanker heads! Right, laddies?"

"Damn right, sergeant!"

"Today we pay the traitorous motherless bastards for Kamino! I don't want a single one of them dragging its broken carcass to an escape pod! I don't care if they're a busted clanker or a kriffing traitor! We're going to make them all pay and secure that ship for the general! Am I clear!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"I'm a sergeant, damn it! I work for a living." Johnson grunted.

Why the kriff did he got saddled with babysitting a bunch of brand new Clones instead of being back home on the Freedom?! The dark skinned sergeant sighed. He couldn't even get a smoke as he was sealed in his CorSec Assault armor.

Johnson spared a moment to lament on the injustice of it all. There weren't enough of the nice new combat armors the GAR was fielding lately so he and his men were stuck with a home-brewed version of the standard Commando kit. The Republic released its specks to all member systems some months ago when they began to officially roll in the new superior equipment. At least the Assault Armor was much better than the original kit the Clones rolled in at the start of the war. Those things while rated for shrapnel, most ballistics as well as various hazards if sealed were notoriously easy to penetrate by military grade weaponry. That wasn't much of a problem against the hordes of cheap B1s with even cheaper weapons. Against SBs however…

"Thirty seconds! Look alive!" The pilot of this death trap exclaimed gleefully over the com.

"You heard her. Bi, I want you out and prepping the charges the moment that ramp opens!" Johnson ordered.

"I'm ready, sarge!" The demo expert patted a stack of explosives strapped to his chest plate.

"Ten! We're going in!" The navy pilot sounded like she had the time of her life in the cockpit.

"Brace!" Johnson shouted, gleefully. He couldn't let a bloody fly-girl outdo him after all. He might have to return his ground-ponder card if that happened.

The shuttle shook and everyone got rattled when the compensators strained to kill the inertia and keep them from liquifying as their ride de-accelerated. A loud clang sounded and then the ramp began to open.

"We're in! The sky is clear. If anything tries to interrupt you, the Guardian will pop it. Up and at it, boys!"

"Go, go, GO!" Johnson shouted and popped his restrain's release.

Bi was already going out behind a pair of troopers acting as living shields for him and all the exploding goodness he was loaded with.

The Sergeant was out of the bird so he wouldn't be taken out by anything wiping out the advance party. The moment he stepped away from the ramp his feet hit the outer hull of their target and only his magnetic boots kept him in place. Even with them if it wasn't for the transports inertial dampeners, Johnson along with everyone else would have been thrown off the ship – which would be academic because the acceleration of even such a ponderous beast as their target was far above what most living things could survive.

Johnson ran behind his men and grinned when he saw where they had landed. The shuttle was resting just ten meters in front of the bridge and Bi was already strapping shaped charges on its windows next to their frames too so the automatic shutters would be busted by the explosion.

He looked around. There were two more shuttles on final approach which will should be carrying the rest of the platoon and two squads from Besh platoon which were their reinforcements.

"All set up! Clear the zone!" Bi snapped over the comm.

"Clear the zone! On the double!" Johnson ordered and hurried to do so himself.

The Clones scattered away from the central window and the Sergeant gave the all clear.

"Fire in the hole!" Bi exclaimed with just the right amount of glee and gave the ignition command.

The resulting explosions weren't particularly spectacular. There were a few small flashes that were almost completely invisible over the illumination coming from the bridge, the windows shattered and their pieces flew in like a volley of jagged daggers before the resulting explosive decompression sucked them out along with anything unsecured in the compartment. The smarter of the crew had either gotten away when they say the soldiers coming to visit or got themselves strapped in. A couple of brave fools even got out hand-blasters though the sergeant didn't know what they expected to accomplish with them.

Once the air was vented off, Arubesh platoon stormed in and secured the bridge without any real trouble. The above-mentioned fools were too busy strapping on oxygen masks to open fire and were promptly disarmed.

"Get the controls locked in. I want this place secure. Make sure our hosts don't suffocate or freeze to death..." Johnson began issuing orders. He wondered if this op would be enough to add pirate to his resume?

Part 6

=RK=

Observation deck

Corellian cruiser Freedom

Hyperspace

I sat in a chair near the windows observing the chaotic lights of hyperspace. To my right, Tarkin and Rex were discussing the success of Wilhuff's improvised boarding operation and how to streamline such stunts in the future. Meanwhile, Joanna was back on the Flag Bridge and as a good XO was overseeing the day to day affairs of the fleet.

Back at Darkknell we got very lucky, there was no doubt about that. We caught the Separatists with their pants down and didn't give them a chance to recover. Even better, there were no enemy fleets stumbling on our raid. Tarkin's stunt paid off too – there were ten Tibanna gas haulers and eight more chock full with hyper-matter flying at the rear of the fleet. Twelve other such transports were destroyed when they tried to flee in hyperspace. That was just the tip of the iceberg. Over a thousand large freighters were blasted out of space before we left for Naboo.

In raw numbers, those weren't too many transports. However a significant number of them were large super-freighters chock full with supplies. Those took time to build not to mention their cargo would take yet more time and freight capacity to make up for.

If we could strike a few more such blows to the CIS on our way back to the Core, they will begin feeling the strain on their logistics train. Nevertheless, Naboo came first. Deciding where exactly we would go next would hinge on what we would find when we arrived at our destination in twelve hours.

"Rex, Wilhuff, I need your capture teams to consist by troops not trained to deal with Jedi. If there's any significant resistance, the casualties could be heavy and I have no intention to waste specialists that way. Better slot people who weren't with us at Kamino for that job. Use that contingent for reinforcing Naboo as needed too. We're keeping our people with us." I interrupted them when they began discussing which troops will make the best boarders.

"That might be sub-optimal." Tarkin pointed out.

"Once the boarding parties are selected as permanent units, we'll provide them with additional training and specialized equipment as practical." I added.

"That might work."

"You two will have to make it work. Just don't forget to get a bit of rest. I'll want both of you on station an hour before we arrive at Naboo." I finished my drink and headed for my quarters.

"We'll be there in time, sir." Rex agreed for them both.

I simply nodded and got out of the former bridge. I needed to meditate about few things and get myself some rest after the limited use of Battle Meditation at Darkknell.

=RK=

I got out of the fresher clad in clean clothes and crashed on my bed. Ever since Ashaa restored my body, I've been feeling a bit off. At first I didn't really notice it and then chalked it up for no longer being a husk of a man on his last legs. It was only during the battle over Darkknell that the difference became plain to me, however at that time I didn't really have the time nor the inclination to even think about it.

To make sure, I did examine myself through the Force and with the exception of the minor fatigue I was currently feeling I was in perfect condition. No surprises there. Nevertheless, perhaps I should have grasped the implication sooner. I was in a perfect shape for a human male in his mid thirties. Before my body had to be rebuilt, I was in perfect shape too, for a superhuman who was faster, tougher and stronger. The new normal used to be different, with corresponding changes in my mental chemistry to account for the maintenance of my altered body – a bit more hormones of one kind, less of another…

To be honest, back in the day I didn't notice a change in the first place, however I was kinda busy then. In the days following my upgrade I had multiple people talking in my head and trying to make me insane, once that was fixed I had to fight a ritual war with a member of the Dark Council and then Crimson happened at a time when the Cold war almost went hot.

Here and now however… I relaxed and slowly submerged myself into the Force, all the while examining the nature of my connection with my power. As far as I could tell, there were no changes there. Yet, the world felt a bit brighter. More alive. It was as if a subtle filter was removed from my senses.

It wasn't like I suddenly shifted closer to the Light Side without noticing. At this time the Dark Side ruled supreme and even she seemed move vivid, more… real.

I frowned. The kriff did I do to myself when I got upgraded by Ashaa?! All the enhancements were physical so I thought my mind had been safe. Yet, did it really matter? Unless it affected my long term judgment, the upgrades were surely worth it.

Well, I won't have the time to get back for the foreseeable future so I would have the opportunity to see if something was different besides the world appearing to be a brighter place.

I let my mind drift through the Force and concentrated on my bonds. Aria's presence shone brightly like a newly born star. I could taste the touch of the Dark Side upon her even half across the galaxy, yet she didn't feel like someone who had actually fallen. She felt all right, if quite a bit tired.

The touch of my mind across our bond made her stiffen, then she relaxed. I could sense her relief when she got a confirmation that I was all right. I found myself sharing the same sentiment on her behalf. I sent a pulse of reassurance through the bound and pulled back.

I took a few moments to examine the unpleasant psychic scar where my connection with Jaybo used to be. My youngest apprentice died in fire somewhere in Corellia, though at the time I was too busy binding a whole fleet to me at Kamino to pay his demise a proper attention. I hadn't really thought about the kid ever since I sent him to the Green Jedi. He was supposed to be safe there, damn it! What a kriffing waste!

My awareness brushed the place in my mind where our connection used to be. It still held the impression of his final moments – fear, pain and desperate need to protect someone. Then everything was consumed by fiery agony.

Someone was going to pay for that! I would make sure my apprentice was avenged even if it would be a cold comfort for him.

I pulled back from the scar and let it to heal on its own. Only now I cast my awareness towards Coruscant. What I got was a simple impression more than anything else. A certainty that Obi-Wan was alive and more or less all right which likely meant that his wife was likely fine too.

Bo on the other hand… I grit my teeth. I knew it was useless. That she couldn't have survived her wounds, yet I searched for her through the Force. That's why I was left speechless on my bed when I felt a small bright spark through the shadow veils thrown by the Dark Side.

That.. That was surely impossible! My wife was dead – my mind rebelled in denial.

I concentrated on that spark. Bo was blind to the Force, so forming a proper connection, especially over such a distance was out of the question unless I wanted to die this time. However, that spark persisted. It continued to shine back on Coruscant with my wife's familiar presence.

I let the Force go and laid in the bed with a relieved smile on my lips. Yeah, the galaxy was indeed a bit brighter place today.