CHAPTER 21: KI-ADI-MUNDI

Tranquility Spire, Jedi Temple

Four minutes earlier…

"Well, you were right about the turbolift," Olwa, a female Duros Jedi Knight muttered, pointing straight up with one finger. Directly overhead, drawing nearer and nearer as the turbolift maintenance pod levitated, was turbolift car number eight.

Ki-Adi-Mundi reached out to the Force Song, sending a sense of what they were seeing to Yoda and the rest of the Jedi present. Their path up was obstructed, and they would likely need to cut their way into the turbolift car from below.

When he and more than two hundred Jedi Knights had finished fighting their way through thousands of Clones and reached the base of the Tranquility Spire, they had found every single turbolift leading up into the spire unusable. The Clones made every effort to block all possible ways in. Six of the turbolifts had been sabotaged by blaster fire in all of the right places, while the Jedi sensed the seventh was filled with detonite charges, probably rigged to go off the moment anyone stepped aboard. The eighth turbolift was gone, and had not responded when Ki-Adi-Mundi pressed the "up" button (though, the Jedi Master had honestly expected that to be the case).

While a bomb squad was currently working quickly, but carefully, to get that turbolift seven safe to use, Ki-Adi-Mundi and six other Jedi had taken two maintenance pods up the shaft of turbolift eight. Each pod was less than half of the size of a turbolift, leaving a lot of space around each as they ascended. Unfortunately, this also meant they were cramped. The maintenance pods were only designed to hold two human-sized individuals, and Ki-Adi-Mundi's was so cramped that Olwa swung outside of the bubble-shaped vehicle—one foot solidly on the interior floor of the pod, the other dangling dangerously over the three kilometer deep turbolift shaft, while one of her hands gripped the frame of the door.

The third Jedi in Ki-Adi-Mundi's pod was Jazal, the eyeless Miraluka who had helped Dr. Gubacher rework Ahsoka's device to deactivate inhibitor chips. Ki-Adi-Mundi had not been sure whether or not Jazal should be trusted; after all, she had also been a convict and a detainee until yesterday. Now that he was connected to her through Yoda's Force Song, the Cerean was absolutely confident she was not in the employ of the Sith, and that she believed her survival hinged on the same thing every other Jedi's did: deactivating the inhibitor chips and removing Palpatine from power.

In the second pod, Kit Fisto rode with two human Jedi, both grizzled veterans of Geonosis and at least a dozen other campaigns. One was a graying male named Charro, and the other a black haired female with almond shaped eyes, Bultar Swan.

We're cutting through the floor, came the thought from Kit Fisto.

"No wait!" Ki-Adi-Mundi yelled, saying the command aloud and also sending his sensation of alarm into the Force Song. Danger sense was blaring. The Cerean cut the repulsors, allowing the pod to drop in free fall.

Less than a second later, Kit Fisto did the same and just in time to avoid being squashed by the rapidly descending turbolift car.

Neither Jazal nor Olwa screamed, but Ki-Adi-Mundi could feel their fear as intensely as they did. For Jazal, who couldn't see and had no idea what was going on besides the vague impressions Ki-Adi-Mundi and Olwa were conveying through the Force, the drop was terrifying.

Enhancing her grip with the Force, Olwa was clutching the pod's railing for dear life, both her feet floating as their speed increased to freefall velocity.

Ki-Adi-Mundi's stomach felt like it was rising in his chest, and sweat began to bead on his forehead as his jaw clenched. More than a hundred and fifty meters of free-fall later, he fired on the repulsorlift again, and pitched hard to starboard, drifting two meters into a twenty meter exhaust shaft that connected with the deep turbolift shaft. The pod's repulsors shrieked in protest as the Cerean taxed them to their limit, slowing the descent of the pod so abruptly that his knees buckled, and he had to grip the steering wheel bars just to keep himself on and upright.

Just as Kit Fisto's pod floated into the shaft, executing the same maneuver but more gently, and wind surged into the exhaust shaft, just as it always did to prevent too much air from compressing beneath a descending turbolift car.

Squinting against the gust of wind, Ki-Adi-Mundi waited for the turbolift car to pass completely, then turned to face Kit Fisto.

"Hopefully that's the last trick up their sleeve," the Nautolan said.

"You can be sure they have more tricks," Ki-Adi-Mundi rebuffed. Carefully, he pitched the pod back into the turbolift shaft, peering around the corner where the roof of the exhaust shaft ended and the gaping hole leading back into the turbolift began. Looking straight up, he could now see nothing but eerie darkness.

"There's no need to rush things, Master," Jazal protested. "We have time to wait for more Jedi to—"

Collectively, every Jedi present took a sharp inhalation of breath. A sensation of hopelessness, anguish, and dismay poured into the Force Song. Two seconds later, the entire turbolift shaft vibrated in a shockwave, too weak to cause serious damage, but strong enough to kick dust loose from the walls.

A being not connected to Yoda's Force Song might have come to the conclusion that somewhere far below turbolift car seven, rigged with detonite charges, had exploded. But the sensation from the Song was even worse news. Images, sensations of fire and heat, and from the hundreds of Jedi staring out viewports, fear as the vast shield covering the entire Temple Precinct went down. The Temple Generator had been destroyed.

Shaak Ti, Obi-Wan, and the rest of Obi-Wan's strikeforce were running from flames. After a few seconds, the emergency backup generators kicked in, and glow lamps, computer terminals, charging stations, all flickered back to life. The emergency generators could provide nowhere near enough power to energize the shields, however.

"Can we still do this?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked Jazal, trying to sound calm but his voice cracked at the dryness in his throat.

"With the generator down? The emergency backups probably have enough power," she answered, "Assuming the Clones haven't damaged the Council Chamber's connection to the power system."

"And if they have?" Bultar asked.

"Ahsoka's original microwave emitter could still work, but it had a range of less than ninety meters. With Dr Gubacher's idea to transmit the microwaves along an Arc Pulse, the range is theoretically only limited by the power to the device."

"Yes, but how far will the microwaves carry along an Arc Pulse on battery power?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

"Let's just assume the High Council Chamber is connected to the backup generators," Jazal answered serenely. "The device should generate enough energy to disable the inhibitor chips in every trooper standing outside the Jedi Temple, even through their plastoid armor. The Clones too deep inside the Temple may be unaffected, but the inhibitor chips in every Clone within at least three kilometers, maybe five, should conduct enough energy to be rendered nonfunctional."

Ki-Adi-Mundi covered his face in frustration, but decided not to ask a third time.

"With the shields down we have to try," Kit Fisto said, in a more uplifting tone, though an unspoken fear answered, echoing over the Force Song:

With the shield generator down, will it even matter that the Clones in and around the Temple are freed from their madness? The sensation from most voices though was one of resolution.

"There is no try," Ki-Adi-Mundi said firmly, then pressed up on the lever controlling his pod's repulsorlifts. Kit Fisto did the same, and floating roughly at the same altitude, the two pods ascended.

All voices among the strikeforce grew hushed as they passed the doors leading from the turbolift shaft leading into the Hall of Knighthood. They passed the level, and continued going up into the three veranda levels. At the highest veranda level, where the High Council's special meeting chamber only used during times of conflict was, both pods came to a halt. The only noise that could be heard was the hum of their engines.

Kit Fisto and Ki-Adi-Mundi exchanged glances. Simultaneously, sensations of two opposing plans unfolded through the Force Song. Ki-Adi-Mundi wanted to use the Force to pry the doors open quickly, while Kit Fisto wanted them to use their lightsabers to cut their way in. Before they had any time to decide, the turbolift doors opened on their own, filling the dark shaft with blinding white light.

A torrent of blasterfire, more intense than anything he had ever faced in infantry combat, erupted before Ki-Adi-Mundi even had time to think. Less than a second had gone by, but already his reflexes were stretched to the limits. The Cerean parried and deflected as quickly as he could, all the while his danger sense did acrobatics in his stomach. He moved to the front of the pod and gave in to the Force, allowing it to guide his hand as he sliced left, right, up, down.

His hindbrain struggled to make sense of what was going on, utterly baffled by the disconnect between the amount of blasterfire he saw, and the fact he could sense only two Clones shooting at him. But when his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw both Clones were clad in reinforced Phase II armor, and each was wielding a Z-6 rotary blaster cannon, capable of firing up to thirty rounds a second on automatic.

Behind the Cerean, Jazal ducked for cover, just as a shot Ki-Adi-Mundi had failed to deflect passed through the spot her head had just been.

The torrent of shots shifted from Ki-Adi-Mundi to Perwa. With a one-handed lightsaber grip, the Duros swung her green blade, deflecting six or seven shots before two shots managed to get through. Pain erupted into the Force Song as a ribbon of fire burst through her abdomen. She fell from the pod, headfirst, until her neck broke on contact with the turbolift shaft walls thirty or forty meters later, and Ki-Adi-Mundi lost track of her.

The Cerean's own mortality flashed before his eyes as the two streams of blasts shifted back to him. Panicked plans and notions of plans flashed into his mind as he struggled to deflect the shots again. He thought of Force leaping, but that would mean taking a dangerous few seconds to prepare and—

Kit Fisto leapt toward the open turbolift doors, an icy river of hues of blue flaring through the air as the Nautolan deflected a dozen shots in just two seconds.

With the firepower no longer being leveled at him, Ki-Adi-Mundi pushed himself from the pod, pointing his lightsaber as he came down and skewered the Clone on the right. The Nautolan had already killed the Clone on the left, but now they had more to worry about.

From at least seven directions, Clones clad in conventional Phase II armor were firing at them, taking cover behind the differently-sized Jedi High Council chairs.

The moment they reached the ground behind Ki-Adi-Mundi and Kit Fisto, Bultar and Charro each picked a direction. Bultar ran clockwise around the circular room, while Charro ran counterclockwise.

From the Clones, seven firing vectors had now become ten, but the troopers were shifting targets, no longer focusing only on Ki-Adi-Mundi and Kit Fisto standing in the firing line.

One trooper's rifle was cut in two when Bultar leapt onto the chair he was taking cover behind. He whipped out a pistol, managing to fire only one shot before the Jedi Knight's green lightsaber connected with his body, severing him in two from his shoulder to his hip.

On the opposite side of the room, behind Mace Windu's chair, a pair of troopers were laying down fire on Kit Fisto, crouching very close together—so close that both were decapitated by a single stroke from Charro.

Ki-Adi-Mundi stepped into the center of the room, trying to keep the focus of the fire on him as the Jedi Knights continued their circle of death.

"Watch out for—" A Clone behind Coleman Kcaj's chair managed to say, just before Bultar's blade pierced his lungs.

Briefly, the Cerean's gaze focused on that chair. It was so strange that Coleman Kcaj had been killed earlier that day, down at the Shrine in the Depths in the event that sparked all of this madness.

A blue blaster bolt nearly hit Ki-Adi-Mundi while he was staring at the chair, but he ducked reflexively at the impulse from his danger sense, and threw his lightsaber back in the direction the shot had come from.

The Clone in gray and blue Katarn armor let out a groan of surprise and ducked behind Yoda's chair just as the blade narrowly missed his head.

Gusts of wind suddenly kicked up in the room, whipping the Cerean's beard around. Expecting the commando behind the chair to re-emerge and open fire again, Ki-Adi-Mundi didn't take his eyes off Yoda's chair turn to look at where the rush of air was coming from, but he could sense from his companions, and see from the bright spotlights illuminating the room despite the night time darkness all around, that an LAAT was now circling around the tower. As his bright blue blade arced through the air, returning to its master, an omnipresent danger sense built and built, rising to a crescendo just as the Cerean clutched his hand around the hilt of his saber.

A distinctive menacing hum filled the High Council chamber. Ki-Adi-Mundi had heard the sound a thousand times whenever an LAAT wing turret fired.

Not even attempting to block the attack, the Cerean tucked his chin to his chest and took a step backward, and then all he could see was bright green. In spite of his discipline, Ki-Adi-Mundi cried out in surprise and pain. He could no longer see anything clearly, but there was an intense heat, accompanied by the acrid stench of burning hair, that could only mean one thing. His beard was on fire.

Nearly blinded, in what felt like an out-of-body experience, Ki-Adi-Mundi reached out to the Force Song, seeing himself pat out the flames on his beard through the eyes of his companions. The pain subsided to a tolerable level, and he rubbed his watery eyes, seeing nothing but the afterimage of the blindingly green light burned into his vision.

All of the Clones inside the chamber were dead, but the LAAT continued to pose a threat. It blasted again, this time the beam impacting against one of the hardened transparisteel windows rather than through one of the already-broken ones. The window bent under the energy, and the heat in the room began to rise. Circling around the tower

Jazal sent a pulse into the meld, offering to jump into the room from the turbolift shaft and set off the microwave pulse immediately.

"No, wait!" Ki-Adi-Mundi yelled, his sight returning enough to see the vehicle behind the wide green streak across vision. The LAAT began to drift again in front of the already-broken window, presumably one of the entry points the Clones had used to gain ingress to the tower.

Quickly-thinking, Kit Fisto grabbed a bandolier which had four thermal detonators on it, rapidly arming all four with his thumb, then threw them in the direction of the broken window. Spinning as it arced through the air, the bandolier thudded onto the LAAT's cockpit, slid down the hull, and wrapped itself directly on top of the starboard forward-facing anti-personnel turret.

For half a second, they stared in shocked astonishment until a ripple of danger sense prompted all four Jedi in the room to run back, as far away from the window as was possible. Ki-Adi-Mundi and Bultar Swan took cover behind Plo Koon's chair, while Kit Fisto and Charro took cover behind Depa Billaba's, and Jazal waited atop the turbolift service pod in the turbolift shaft.

"Fisto!" Ki-Adi-Mundi yelled, panic gripping his voice. "How long did you set the timer for?!"

"I don't know," Kit said frustratedly through gritted teeth, his jet black eyes focused on the LAAT. "I just thumbed the—"

Hovering in place, the transport opened fire, filling the room with laser cannon fire. Blasts punched through both Yoda and Mace Windu's chairs at the front of the room, reducing them to tatters as they continued along into Depa Billaba and Plo Koon's.

"PUSH!" Ki-Adi-Mundi yelled, simultaneously sending the impulse back into the meld and reaching out to the hulking metal death machine.

The LAAT swayed, the shift in position causing both laser cannons to miss the open part of the broken transparisteel, and instead flash as they impacted marble and solid reinforced portions of window.

With all of their might, the Jedi continued pushing, shoving the LAAT back several meters as its engine and repulsors struggled to stabilize it. Jazal leapt from the turbolift shaft into the chamber and joined in, steady on her feet despite the bulky electronic package in her backpack.

"How is this possible?" Charro asked, closing one eye as he strained.

"With the Force, anything is—"

"That's not what I meant, Master," Charro grunted. "How is it that the thermal detonator has not gone off yet?!"

Before a further word had been said, another bright light left Ki-Adi-Mundi seeing stars again as an explosion erupted from the LAAT's starboard front turret. The dozen lives on board were instantly extinguished, even before the vehicle began to drop through the sky.

Jazal sent a warning through the Force Song, back to all of the Jedi at the base of the tower to be careful. A transport was falling and would crash somewhere in about ten seconds.

Twelve seconds later, a distant explosion could be heard, barely louder than the background breeze coming in through the broken window. No further Jedi lives had been lost.

The Miraluka pulled out a heavily modified datapad with a gel screen that curved and bulged in shapes a being who could not see could still feel, and felt the screen as she approached Master's seat, typing furiously as Kit helped her take off the bulky backpack.

While she did so, a vague danger sense began to rise, almost imperceptibly at first. For a wild moment, Ki-Adi-Mundi thought Jazal might be the source of the danger, but soon the sensation became clearer.

"Heads up, multiple LAATs, running with lights off," Bultar Swan said, just as Ki-Adi-Mundi's Force senses told him as much.

"This will be all over before they get here," Jazal said. "Assuming the Clones decide to side with us, once their free will is restored, that is. Assuming, also, that we're able to set it off again when another wave attacks…" Her voice trailed off as she became more engrossed with her work, unzipping the frontmost pouch and ran a power cord from her backpack's interior to a socket on the wall.

Ki-Adi-Mundi and Kit Fisto exchanged glances. Neither had thought far enough ahead to consider what would happen after this wave of Clones was stopped.

"Alright, we've modified the device substantially from Ahsoka's prototype. When the Arc Pulse enhances the microwave burst, it's going to transmit enough electromagnetic energy to fry ten thousand Clone chips within a three kilometer radius… all In thirty seconds… Uh…"

The danger sense was growing stronger and stronger, not just here but across the whole Temple. It wasn't twelve LAATs filled with thirty troopers each. It also wasn't a vague threat of another assault coming in an hour, but something immediate. Everything was in danger. Everywhere was in danger.

"Tell me you feel that," Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, running his hand through his burnt beard.

Before anyone answered, a dark point, illuminated by dots of lights along both its sides, pierced the nighttime clouds. It grew wider and wider, larger and larger as more and more of the shape emerged.

"Is that a Venator?" Bultar asked in a shocked stage whisper.

"No, it's an Acclamator, a missile cruiser to be precise," Kit Fisto answered, stepping in front of the broken window.

"Masters, we're not going to want to be here when this thing goes off! It's a hundred times more powerful than the burst we tested in the halls of healing!"

Not needing a third warning, Ki-Adi-Mundi broke his gaze from the slowly descending ship and ran for the turbolift, leaping into the pod. The moment Jazal was aboard he cut the repulsorlift, and began freefall just as Kit Fisto, Bultar, and Charro jumped into theirs.

"How far down do we need to be?"

"We will be fine here," Jazal answered. "Being away from transparent windows or out of the direct line of sight of the device should be safe enough."

Ki-Adi-Mundi re-engaged the repulsors, gently bringing the pod from freefall speed to hovering in place in mid air. A second later, Kit Fisto's pod came to a hover alongside theirs, with Bultar and Charro seated precariously at the edges.

There was relative inaction across the meld. The only Jedi still in combat was Jocasta Nu, who seemed to have caught some stragglers attempting to raid the Bogan Collection. Collectively, thousands of Jedi had a version of the same thought. A shared dread.

When the inhibitor chips are deactivated in the Temple, that assault ship will still be out there. What is going to stop it from leveling the entire complex?

A hum could suddenly be heard, warbling from above, and at places across the Temple, the lights flickered briefly as the prototype emitter transmitted microwaves at a frequency which would heat up inhibitor chip tissue faster and more intensely than skin or regular brain tissue. At least, that was what had happened in the Halls of Healing.

Presently, Ki-Adi-Mundi gasped in shock as more than five thousand lives were instantly extinguished, sending spasms of pain and distress into the Force so powerful that even the most latently-connected Jedi could feel it. All around the Temple and the surrounding precinct, presences of life vanished from the living Force. Further out, perhaps two or three kilometers from the Temple, injured beings writhed on the ground in agony, still alive but in serious pain.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Jazal half-screamed half-wailed, trembling so hard that the maintenance pod shook. "HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"

Ki-Adi-Mund put a hand on Jazal's shoulder, sending calming waves through the Force. He reached out to the Force Song, trying to get a sense of what was happening. Panic and confusion spread through the Force Song, though none of the dead were Jedi. In the midst of the confusion, he felt several Jedi who were more confident about what had happened, or who had witnessed…

Oh.

Jazal seemed to sense his realization and gasped. "The blasted armor! Plastoid can conduct microwaves, and an Arc Pulse—Doctor Gubacher only tested it on… I'm going to be sick!"

Rapidly, the emotions across the Force Song were evolving from a uniform sense of alarm and panic to more mixed feelings. Many Jedi were now as sorrowful as Jazal. Others though, while saddened, were sending out waves of relief at the end to this siege. Sentiment along the lines of: Though it was unfortunate that so many Clones had to die, is it so worse to kill them this way instead of with our blades? A more radical group, however, were sending out sentiment along the lines of if it's us or them, we only have one choice. Us.

Twenty or thirty seconds of this went on, until the voices of the Force Song devolved into such disagreement that any possible utility ended, the word Sith being levied at the radical utilitarianists who instigated the entire argument with such venom and frequency that they themselves could barely counter-argue.

Being connected to so many disagreeing voices, thousands in riotous discord, was so distracting Ki-Adi-Mundi couldn't even think. He only stared at Kit Fisto in open mouthed shock. At long last, Master Yoda projected a sensation of regret and tiredness, before ending the ritual and severing the connection wholesale.

After it was gone, Kit returned a tired look of disappointment and shook his head.

Less than a minute later, Ki-Adi-Mundi's wrist-comm crackled to life and Cin Drallig's voice came out, sounding regretful but determined.

"In case you missed it, this phase of the action is over. Whatever your thoughts or feelings on what just happened, zip it. We don't have time for soul searching. That Acclamator floating overhead isn't going anywhere and neither are those siege artillery batteries. Everyone is to evacuate to the lower levels, and from there, we'll work out where we're going. If you see someone in distress, someone who can't make it, help them make it. No one stays behind. No one gets left behind."

o.o.o.o.o

COMMANDER CC-2244 "CODY"

Siege Position Aurek HQ, Temple District, Coruscant

Commander Cody stared at the holotable showing the Jedi Temple, gunships swarming around it and Clones scaling it with ascension cables and jetpacks like an oversized version of the citadel training course back on Kamino. Around him, technicians and subordinate Clone Officers from the 212th and several mobility units were busy coordinating with their own assets and the other siege command centers.

"Commander," Crys said, stepped forwards with a datapad in hand, the blond-haired Clone handing it to him. "The shields are down."

"I am already aware," Cody said, staring at the holodisplay. Not only was it obvious from the energy readouts that the shields were down, but now a dozen LAATs were flying through the darkness above the Temple.

A journey that had taken thirty minutes for infantry moving along the ground at walking pace through the velocity-sensitive shields, slowly taking vehicles and aircraft through over the bridges and into the Temple Precinct, could now be accomplished in seconds. Time was no longer on the Jedi's side. All Cody could do was hope they'd evacuated as many as they could.

"What are our orders?"

Twenty or so meters behind Crys, the last of a group of Clones from the 481st boarded an LAAT, and it took off, rotated in midair, then sent the tent flaps of the command center rippling as it made a beeline for the Temple.

Cody didn't even feel like looking at the Temple. He was completely out of options. He could no longer help the Jedi by giving them intel. His only option was to stall or to strike out as best he could, perhaps by sabotaging the remaining LAATs or else… No he had to stall until he could come up with a plan.

Blast it Cody! You knew this was a possibility. Think! Is there any way to save the Temple?

He grimaced under his helmet. "Our orders from the Chancellor are clear. We're to let the Navy handle any and all bombardment duties unless instructed otherwise."

"Understood, sir." Crys snapped to and went back to his station at a nearby console, slipping his helmet back on over his dirty blond hair, unusual but not unheard of for a Clone.

Cody was stretching Palpatine's orders, and his authority as a Marshal Commander, to the limit, but so far nobody had called him out on it. He knew though that his stalling would be less convincing by the second as more and more units left the 212th behind, advancing on the Jedi Temple by any means possible.

So far it had just been the 481st and the legion's component battalions, but how much longer would that remain the case?

Cody looked back down at the holoprojector, and saw a dogfight unfolding. He tried to ignore the dogfight where Clone-piloted starfighters were now peeling off to draw the Jedi Eta-2s and Delta-7s moving to intercept the LAATs. Could I pull a Pong Krell? Cody wondered to himself. Not kill my comrades, but give them orders that will hinder the other units who are obeying Palpatine. What if I order a jammer to be depl—

The very next second, Cody experienced something that made him realize such a plan would never have worked. He could hear Chancellor Palpatine's voice, not over any comm channel, but in his head. For a terrified moment, he thought it had finally happened to him. He would now be a slave to the Chancellor's unlawful orders to kill every Jedi.

But the orders weren't to kill every Jedi.

{"The Archives!"} the voice compelled, an urgent panic causing the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck.

He could no longer see the interior of the command tent, nor the landing pad through the flaps outside. He was in the Jedi Temple, looking through the advanced HUD of a Clone Commando, firing madly as Jocasta Nu stood on a table deflecting every one of his shots. A moment later, an inexplicable fear flooded his very being. What was in the Jedi Temple Archives was absolutely essential and needed to be retrieved. He could feel the urgency flow through thousands of his comrades, and the superconsciousness they were now connected to was, somehow, growing bigger and bigger. Clones as far away as five kilometers from the Temple Precinct were now being dragged into the meld, for the purpose of—

THE TEMPLE ARCHIVES MUST BE SECURED AT ONCE!

No. This is ridiculous, Cody thought. He fought the urge and abruptly broke free of it, just in time to be trampled by Crys and several other troopers who were literally pushing Cody over as they sprinted from the tent.

"HOLD IT!" Cody yelled. He got to his feet and stepped out of the tent after them, a whirlwind of fears driving him to breathlessness as he started to run.

Would he start shooting Jedi mindlessly now if he saw them?

Could the other Clones, or the Chancellor, tell that he was less than enthusiastic about slaying Jedi?

Was he now exposed?

Breathlessly, now running up the steps to the landing platform, pilots still prepping the LAATs for takeoff, he cried out one more "HOLD IT!"

His men came to a screeching halt, standing there confused as they turned to face him. "Commander, we received orders to assault the archives," Crys uttered, now sounding unsure as to what he was saying and doing.

"WHAT SHAB'LA ORDERS!? I DIDN'T RECEIVE ANY ORDERS!" Cody bellowed, hoping the fact said Orders somehow were projected into his mind would confuse them on their legitimacy.

"But they're direct from…" Crys trailed off, helmet tilting upwards.

Cody turned and looked in the same direction, just in time to see movement near the Temple he did not understand. Thousands of bodies were falling. Many were Clones who had been scaling the temple with cables. Others were jet troopers, all of whom were now flying or falling completely out of control. Gunships careened from the sky, bodies raining from their holds. A few fighters climbed away while others spiralled out of the air.

Cody saw less than two seconds of this before he felt an electric tingle that reminded him of being zapped by an electrostaff's stun mode. He smelled smoke as his hair began to smolder, and ripped his helmet off, screaming.

All around, Clones stumbled about, clutching their heads and dropping their weapons or other equipment. Cody rapidly patted his hair down, smothering the blazes. The scar on his temple felt like it was going to split in two.

"STATUS REPORT!" he barked as he recovered, a decade of instinct drilled in by training and experience overriding his confusion and horror. There was no fight or flight, only command. He turned away from the fireballs blossoming across the Jedi Temple as the crashing gunships impacted it. In the background, alarms blared throughout the camp as Clones staggered from between artillery pieces and heavy armor to man defenses. AA turrets turned skyward as they returned to their neutral positions, abandoned by the Clones who had been manning them.

Crys, who had fallen to his knees, ripped his helmet from his steaming head, gasping. His skin looked like it had suffered the worst sunburn Cody had seen in his entire life. After patting down his head for a few moments, he managed to croak a question. "What the kriff was that?!" No longer riveted at the notion of charging headlong into the Temple Archives, he pulled out his own set of electrobinoculars.

When only moans and incoherent static responded from the comm built into Cody's helmet, which he was clutching in both hands, he stormed back into the command center. A few disoriented Clones came in tow, one man tripping over a tent flap they entered. "Commander? Are we under attack…?"

Cody ignored them, and focused on the holodisplay as a mix of specialist Troopers and 'soft-shell' Clone technicians in jumpsuits and padded blue-grey vests and soft helmets resembling flight-line personnel glanced over at him from their stations. Every single unit on the other side of Shinarcan Bridge was unresponsive. Holofootage of Clones everywhere revealed camps, vehicles, and landing pads surrounded by bodies, smoke rising from under their armor.

A Clone comms technician, Lon, looked up from one display opposite Cody's, his face pale. "Parjai Squad is reporting from Checkpoint Cresh… Half their men just dropped dead. The rest were eating their lunch rations with their helmets off when whatever… that was, happened. Sergeant Barlex is asking for orders. He doesn't remember why he's on the perimeter."

Cody felt his stomach churn, he'd had over a thousand men from the 7th Sky Corps on this side of the Shinarcan Bridge Extension, blocking the only way in or out of the Temple Precinct on foot from this direction. "Order them to grab their dead and fall back if possible, otherwise send in droids to recover them… What about the other units?"

"The platoons who're reporting in have similar stories sir, just varying in the number of dead," another Clone technician reported.

"And the ones who aren't…?" Cody asked tentatively.

"I don't know sir… Twenty of the forward platoons haven't reported in," The man muttered nervously.

We had twenty-eight platoons on that perimeter, over a thousand men from the various units attached to the siege… That's over eleven thousand men dead in the worst case if we count the 481st as a total loss…

He shoved the disturbing thought aside. "Have probes go check on them, pull everyone who's responding to hails back to the siege camps until we can figure out what just happened."

"Commander… What's going on?" Wooly asked again.

Cody turned back to the Jedi Temple, staring at the structure as the Jedi Starfighters abruptly pulled away from their pursuit while the surviving Clone fighters began circling lazily, their pilots requesting status updates over the commsnet, voices confused and disoriented. "I… have no idea." He suddenly remembered that strange, almost out of body experience, and compulsion to take the Temple Archives. "Did anyone else see Jocasta Nu?"

"Who?"

"The Temple Archivist. Right before this happened, we got…" Cody's voice trailed off as he thought how best to describe it. A vision? Compulsion? Need? Orders? "Someone tried to order us to assault the Archives."

"I don't remember that," Crys said.

"Neither do I," Lon agreed. "Sir, if all this is getting to you. Maybe you should—"

"I'm fine," Cody interrupted, shaking his head in annoyance. It was blasted annoying being the only sane Clone in a madhouse. The only benefit was he now had an excuse to prevent anyone from rushing the Temple or bombarding it. "Send the following order, all personnel are to undergo mandatory medical scans. Get all other camps and outposts doing the same, recall all airspeeders and starfighters so the pilots can be checked. We're on a general stand-down except for self-defense, nobody moves on or fires at the Temple until we figure out what the kriff is going on with our heads."

o.o.o.o.o

Gillad Pellaeon

Aboard the R/ACC Leveler

Panicking voices erupted from all around the bridge. The comm scanner sampling communications on the ground had gone nearly silent.

Captain Gillad Pellaeon stared at the battlefield holoprojector in disbelief as the holograms of thirty three starfighters and twelve LAATs changed color from bright blue to the dark, barely visible, shade of dark blue that represented a destroyed or disabled vessel. For ten to fifteen seconds, Leveler's scanners tracked the hulls of forty five ships as they plummeted to the surface, impacting the sloping walls and flat courtyards of the Jedi Temple.

"What in the blazes?" Pellaeon whispered, more to himself than to anyone in particular. He turned away from the display and approached the viewports.

"Multiple friendly craft destroyed!" yelled Rumahn, Leveler's second in command, who still stared in utter disbelief at the holodisplay. "Remaining ships are pulling away and requesting orders, Jedi are not pursuing!"

When Pellaeon reached the viewports, he saw plumes of smoke rising from the landscape. He didn't count them all, but he was sure there would be at least forty-five, one for every Republic vessel that had abruptly fallen to its doom.

"Most of the chatter on the ground has died down," the comm officer, Knob, said, looking up from the comm scanner and turning in his chair to face Pellaeon. "Commander Cody is ordering all forces to fall back to the artillery bases, self-defense only until a thorough medical analysis of all troops can be done."

"Our travel shields deflected some sort of electromagnetic pulse a few seconds ago," a systems technician reported clinically amidst the chaos.

The Jedi managed to pull something off after all.

Pellaeon kept the thought to himself and swallowed hard. "Increase altitude a thousand meters. I want more distance between us and the Temple."

"Sir, respectfully, the Chancellor ordered us to take up position at these coordinates to support the siege," said Lieutenant Lock, a Clone Navigation officer, and third in command of this shift.

Pellaeon took a deep breath, thinking hard to formulate a response. He warily looked over his shoulder, back at the fleet security Clones standing guard at the rear of the bridge. Several captains of other vessels had been killed by their own Clone crew members for refusing to follow Order 66, even in the face of certain death. Some had defied their own crews, protecting Jedi or refusing orders they felt were unlawful. Pellaeon wished he were that type of man.

If the orders came to fire on the Jedi Temple though, he would follow them. He told himself the reason why was that, at thirty-two years of age, with a son Mynar, a wife Hallena, he had too much to continue living for. Deep down though, a darker voice whispered that this was just an excuse.

"Uh, sir, are you going to follow the Chancellor's orders or not?" Lock asked again, this time impatiently.

"Look at the holoprojector, Lieutenant!" Pellaeon snapped, losing his patience at both Lock's petulant tone and this utterly insane situation. "There is no siege to support! I did not give you a suggestion. Increase our altitude, now. Stay below the cloud cover though, I want a constant view of the Temple."

"Very well, sorry sir," Lock said quickly, pulling up on the altitude controls.

For a few minutes, the crew of the Leveler resumed business as usual, holding position around three thousand meters higher than the Pinnacle Spire. Pellaeon's pacing grew more impatient, as he grumbled to himself under his breath.

This would not do… This just would not do!

With both hands clasped behind his back, Pellaeon left the bridge to his ready room, and patched himself through to Coruscant Fleet Command. After five beeps, a young human male, though not a Clone, appeared on the small holodisplay on Pellaeon's desk.

"This is Captain Pellaeon. I need to speak with Admiral Yularen. It is a matter of utmost urgency.

"Unfortunately, Captain, Admiral Yularen departed the Coruscant system an hour ago—"

"Departed the Coruscant System!" Pellaeon scoffed in disbelief. "Departed Coruscant, at a time like this!"

"I am not at liberty to discuss the nature of Admiral Yularen's mission, sir. I—"

Pellaeon's face was beet red by this point. "All forces on the ground around the Jedi Temple were just wiped out, and no one is telling us anything! Patch me through to whomever is in charge down there, right now!"

"Sir," the junior officer said calmly, far too calmly given the situation, "I'll patch you through to Vice Admiral Screed."

"Vice Admiral Screed?" Pellaeon asked, but before he had quite finished the sentence, the young officer's visage was replaced by an aurora of ghostly blue HoloNet static. The holopad began emitting a dial tone again.

Pellaeon met Terrinald Screed twice, back when they were both officers in the Judicial Corps. He hadn't known that Screed had been promoted to Vice Admiral though, and when a grizzly half-cybernetic face appeared, Pellaeon could not help but jump in startlement.

"Gil? Is that you?" Screed asked.

"Yes, Admiral," Pellaeon said, stiffening as he regained his composure, and somewhat baffled at being called Gil. As far as he remembered, he and Screed had never been on first name terms, let alone nicknames. "It's all chaos here. We—"

"Good," Screed interrupted. "Are you calling on a tight band?"

"Of course, Admiral," Pellaeon answered.

"Excellent," Screed said, sighing with relief. "Captain, I am meeting right now with most of the Republic Security Council."

"Apologies to dial at such a busy time," Pellaeon blurted out, "I had no idea—"

"Is where you are calling from safe? Can any Clones overhear you?"

Pellaeon turned around and gave one nervous glance back in the direction of the bridge. "They shouldn't be able to, sir."

"In that case, let me introduce you to those in the Security Council here, or as holopresences," Screed said, his own holopresence shrinking as several others appeared on the display. "General Locus Geen of the Army's Special Operations Command, Admiral Dodd Rancit of Naval Intelligence, and Director Armand Isard of the Senate Bureau of Intelligence" he said, needlessly introducing three human officers whom Pellaeon recognized by reputation alone. Screed then gestured to a pale white Kaminoan with purple eyes, "And, of course, we are joined by Senator Halle Burtoni, of Kamino."

Pellaeon remained standing at attention and smiled as he nodded politely to the senator, wondering more deeply what sort of conspiracy in the Republic Security Council he had gotten himself involved with. It was extremely odd, to say the least, that they were hiding this meeting from Clones while including one of the aliens who created the GAR.

"And Senator Canny Mandary Bertar, who represents the Senate Dispensation Committee on this council," he added, introducing a mostly-colored feathered alien, with a shockingly green crest of feathers upon her head. Pellaeon smiled, his brain working overtime to figure out if this alien was a Calibop or an Mrlssi. "And finally, Senator Aang, who is representing the Senate Military Oversight Committee." A Roonan senator with gray skin and pupiless giant blue eyes gave Pellaeon a nod.

Collapsing in his chair, Pellaeon wiped the sweat from his forehead, his heart palpating faster and faster.

What is going on here?

"You'll notice, conspicuously, that several members of the Committee are missing. Senator Padmé Amidala, of Naboo, is currently hiding at an undisclosed location, along with two other Security Council Members, Senators Giddean Danu of Kuat and Orn Free Taa of Ryloth. Admiral Yularen is aboard the Resolute, which departed Coruscant alongside several other vessels without orders from High Command and without any word to us a little over an hour ago, and the broad spectrum shadowfeed jamming is precluding us from sending hails. Most conspicuously, Vice Chancellor Mas Amedda is not with us, nor is Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine."

Pellaeon gulped. In truth, he was overwhelmed after calling headquarters for orders and, instead, being thrust into a meeting of the Republic Security Council; so overwhelmed that he had not even wondered yet about Mas Amedda or Palpatine.

"This is because Sheev Palpatine has been acting extremely rashly lately, to say the least, and Director Isard suspects he may have gone completely insane. After the latest debacle at the Jedi Temple, he and the Vice Chancellor have gone radio silent. We, a majority of the Security Council, are trying to wrest back control of the government and end this madness before the Republic is destroyed. Are you with us, Captain?"

In truth, Pellaeon wanted assurances before he committed to anything. He wanted to know exactly how many forces were on their side and, more importantly, whether they had a plan. He wanted to be sure that his odds would be better than suicide at blaster point. However, under the stares of three flag officers, the director of the SBI, and three senior Republic Senators, Pellaeon caved. "Alright. I am in."

"I am glad to hear it," Screed said, with a smile so wide across his cybernetically-reconstructed face that teeth showed. "Now, can you patch us through to the Jedi Temple? We need to speak with the Jedi High Council. A laser comm transmission should do."