IMPORTANT NOTE: Dearest readers, I want to start off by saying thank you so much for your patience with me. I appreciate all of your love and support of this story. I am most grateful for your understanding and have great news. Now that I've completed the lengthy training portion of my new job, I've been able to manage between this story and work! This being said, I am happy to announce that we are going back to weekly chapters starting today! If anything changes, I will keep you notified as always. So without further ado, on with the show!
Long Live Imagination,
~ Michael
Chapter: 79 Brothers' Keepers - (Part I)
"Ordering and leading troops into battle are two very different concepts."
A resilient survivor! Jedi Knight Elsa Dellian overcomes deadly odds and makes headlines back on Coruscant. Having endured Clayton's wrath and captured him, she's now returned to the Jedi Temple for rehabilitation. In the Circle of Jedi Healers, Elsa finds sanctuary while the Clone Wars rage on...
A healthy, pale hand gently stirred a cup of herbal tea. Taking a deep breath, Elsa reclined against a set of soothing cushions and gently sipped her beverage. Her lips welcomed the warm tea like an old acquaintance and she hummed in delight. Tranquil music played from nearby speakers while dim lights helped Elsa sink deeper into relaxation. For the first time in forever, her hair had been left completely unbraided. Those platinum blonde tresses of hers flowed freely and served as a cushion of their own. She let her face disappear behind her falling locks and smiled towards the teacup. "If only life was always like this," she whispered. "There'd be a lot less conflict if everyone had tea and fluffy pillows."
"You know-" a youthful voice said beside her. "-I could get behind that." Elsa peeked over as a Cerean Padawan lounged about. Like her, the Jedi Healers had given him a set of soothing white robes.
"If only it were that easy, O-Mer." a green-skinned Twi'lek remarked from the opposite couch. "I can see the HoloNet headline now. He raised his hands and declared, "Galactic Republic airdrops tea and pillows on Separatist capital. Dooku instantly surrenders."
Elsa jokingly shook her head while the Padawans chuckled amongst each other. Although she was older than them, she still found herself feeling unworthy of knighthood at times. Meanwhile, Ahsoka Tano was out on the frontlines, risking her life time and time again...yet was still Anakin's Padawan. Elsa just felt that as a Knight, she still had much to live up to. Regardless, she and this duo of Padawans were all in the same position. They'd all been roommates in the Circle of Jedi Healers for weeks. Under the watchful guidance of Knight Rapunzel Crin, the group was learning to manage their shared traumatic experiences. While Elsa had been kidnapped and hunted by Clayton, she'd learned the Padawans had been taken by Trandoshan hunters. Elsa considered it to be a miracle that any of them had survived and was grateful for any solace they could find. It astounded her that Ahsoka was already back to serving the Republic.
The lounge doors beside the group slid open and Rapunzel stepped in. "Hello my dears," she greeted. Elsa, Jinx, and O-Mer...how are we feeling today?"
"Please don't make me paint again," Jinx blurted. "My 'convore' was a disaster."
"What you call a disaster, I call abstract." Rapunzel replied. "But no, I have a new bonding exercise for us today." She merrily flourished her hands and declared, "Charades! But first, I'll need a volunteer."
"Nose goes!" O-Mer proclaimed and jabbed a finger to his nose. Jinx hastily followed suit by the time Elsa figured out their tactic.
"Sorry, Elsa." he simpered.
"Padawans," Elsa sighed before reluctantly getting up.
"Alright!" Rapunzel cheered and held up a bowl of folded paper squares. "Pick your word!"
Elsa's tranquil state was suddenly fading as she gulped. "O-kay," she mumbled and plucked out one of the squares. Rapunzel took Elsa's spot on the couch while she unfolded her word.
THE FORCE
"Seriously?" Elsa whispered under her breath. She turned to see all eyes on her as she prepared to act out 'The Force.'
"Just do it with your body!" Rapunzel advised.
Sighing deeply, Elsa opened her palms and reached out to the group. "Stretching?" O-Mer guessed.
"Pushing," Jinx considered. Elsa shook her head. "Denying someone entry?" She facepalmed, not meaning for them to read every gesture.
"Impatient?" Rapunzel added.
Realizing all of her motions counted, Elsa stood absolutely still while formulating a plan. "Frozen!" O-Mer still blurted and Elsa's eye twitched. "Oh come on, she's definitely frozen."
Rapunzel flashed a sympathetic grin and mouthed the words 'hang in there' to her patient.
How else am I supposed to show 'The Force?' Elsa thought. She mimicked a Force push and jabbed an arm forward.
"Throwing something!" Jinx proposed.
"With an open palm?" O-Mer refuted. "It's obviously a high-five."
Flustered, Elsa put more energy into her thrust and spun with both open hands. "Zama-shiwo martial arts?" Jinx queried.
Before Elsa could try something else, the peaceful music station suddenly switched to a HoloNews update. "This is Belle O'Har live from the Coruscant Rose," a voice announced. "Your source for the latest happenings in the Republic and beyond."
"Confused!" O-Mer declared as Elsa focused on the speakers. "Uncertain!"
"Disturbed?" Jinx added and nudged his fellow Padawan. "You can't tell me she doesn't look disturbed."
Noticing that Elsa was focused on the HoloNews, Rapunzel ended the round with a clap of her hands. "And times up," she said.
"Elsa, are you alright?" O-Mer asked.
"I'm fine," the knight assured. "Can we turn those speakers up?"
Rapunzel nodded and raised the volume. "As hostilities between the Republic and Umbara intensify-" Belle continued. "-an invasion seems inevitable. After the planet's secession from the Republic, Umbara has sworn allegiance to the Separatist cause. The Senate will vote on necessary actions, especially now that Umbara has turned over vital trade routes to the Separatist war machine."
How terrible, Elsa told herself. She wondered if a similar news story would be reported if Avinaria had joined the Separatists. It pained her to imagine Republic forces bringing destruction to Senator Ryx's world.
"See something, say something." Belle added. "For the last two weeks, elite Republic teams have been conducting multiple raids on Inner and Core World safe houses. These structures are said to be linked with the cult cell, the Revenant, and could provide links to missing Republic scientist: Nila Morzetti. While multiple raids have emerged inconclusive, the hunt carries on and calls the privacy of Republic citizens into question."
Elsa rubbed her chin at the news update. She knew at least one of the elite teams conducting those Revenant raids and could only hope Anna was staying safe. She'd spoken to her sister on occasion, just as she had with Yelena whenever the master sought to check in. Oddly enough, Elsa's conversations with her former master came with a peculiar detail. Apparently, Chancellor Palpatine had been making an unusual amount of inquiries into her career as a knight. A less-experienced Elsa might've been ecstatic over such news. But after what she'd experienced with Dia Veritaz, the last thing Elsa wanted to be was another politician's glorified assistant. Even if that politician was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.
"Now all eyes are on the Thanium Sector," Belle reported. "After several days of orbital reconnaissance and bombardment, Republic forces are launching their campaign to retake Felucia from Separatist hands."
Unaware of which unit had been sent to the fungal planet, Elsa simply uttered, "May the Force be with them."
The Kaminoans had engineered the Republic's clone soldiers to be resilient against combat stress. It made them prominent warriors and was a key selling point to the Galactic Senate. However, what the cloners so courteously left out was that this endurance still had its limits. Even the most hardened troopers could falter under the excessive amounts of war's brutality. It was just another sliver of their remaining humanity that the Kaminoans sought to overlook. For Commander Frost of the 213th, calming memories were all he had to keep himself grounded.
His cold and raucous reality became a momentary blur as he thought about his past. Life had felt simple when he was just a shiny back on Hoth. Thinking of Elsa brought a smile to his face. There was a soothing calmness to her memories that let him sink into relaxation. It helped to learn that she had been safely returned to the Republic weeks ago. While he was able to get lost in those feelings, thinking of Elsa just made him miss her more. How bleak things had seemed without her around. While there had always been challenges, he'd rather face them with her at his side instead of General Krell.
"1127!" his Jedi General's voice bellowed. One of Krell's firm hands gripped Frost's shoulder as he snapped the clone back into reality. "What are you doing standing around, commander?" he snarked. Frost peered up and came face to face with the Besalisk's ominous glower. "I told you that I wanted the troops ready to move within ten minutes." He jabbed both of his right limbs towards the scrambling 213th. "Do they look anywhere near ready? Now do your job or I'll replace you with someone who can."
Krell's furious remark had Frost reluctantly nodding. "Sir yes sir," he murmured and trudged over to the troops.
"And you'd better not miss the briefing," Krell added with a scoff.
Frost traveled across the Deliverance's bustling hangar while clones rushed to their battle stations. Proximity sirens rang out, indicating that they'd emerged from hyperspace and were approaching Felucia. Weeks of preparation had led to this moment. The eyes of the galaxy were upon them. The hopes and prayers of Republic citizens weighed heavily on their shoulders. At least, that was what Frost kept telling himself. He urged himself to believe that they were fighting Separatist tyranny. That the droid army was somehow engaging in an oppressive occupation of Felucia. But despite his best efforts at optimism, Frost knew the truth. He knew that Felucia sat on a vital hyperspace route and possessed valuable resources. The Republic wasn't asking him to risk his life for Republic citizens. It was asking him to fight for their profits. Such a thought was devastating on his psyche, but Frost couldn't waver. The commander knew that if he appeared defeated, it would only be a matter of time before the 213th's morale crashed with him.
Keeping his head up, Frost encouraged his men to remain steadfast. No compliment was too small for any trooper. He knew they'd need every ounce of confidence. "Rip," he hollered. "Doubles!" The clone duo's heads darted up while hauling ammo crates. "Keep up the good work, brothers."
They nodded to their commander as he approached a pulsing holotable. Krell presided over it and impatiently crossed his arms. Frost watched as three other Jedi arrived. Master Luminara Unduli and her Padawan Barriss Offee took their places at the furthest end. Meanwhile, Master Gaston could be seen closest to Krell.
"It's just as we anticipated," Luminara said while powering up a holomap. Several dreadnoughts flickered into view as she continued. "The Separatists have a blockade over our proposed landing zone. But that's the least of our troubles." The master glanced at her apprentice, who proceeded to zoom in on a projection of Felucia.
"Our designated landing zone is no longer safe," Barriss explained and scrolled across the terrain. "Droid forces have heavily fortified the surrounding jungle, building up their defenses around this base." The Mirialan waved a finger atop a steep and hardly climbable plateau.
"My Padawan's information is correct," Luminara remarked. "As if the jungle fortifications were not daunting enough, the elevated base will rain destruction upon our advancing forces."
Gaston scratched at the swell cleft in his chin. "The casualties would be catastrophic," he griped.
"Then let us change the landing zone," Krell intoned. The others watched as he shifted the marker from its jungle placement...to directly over the enemy base." Frost dropped his arms in shock over the sight.
"Have you lost your mind?" Gaston barked, taking the words right out of Frost's mind. "Are you completely forgetting about the jungle defenses then?"
"And the space blockade," Luminara added.
"We'd be quick," Krell assured. "Our gunships can get in and out of there. Meanwhile, you three can lead the space battle." Krell became irked by their bewildered silence. "Don't you see?" he asked. "We can't chip away at this serpent. We need to go straight for its head. Then the rest of the system will crumble."
"But Master Krell, the base is likely to have anti-air weaponry," Barriss considered.
"All the more reason for our gunships to quickly disable them, child." Krell murmured.
Barriss looked to her master, hoping she'd say something in her defense. Instead, Luminara pondered Krell's plan. "An effective, direct strike on the base could throw the enemy off guard," she contemplated. "Are you confident in the 213th's maneuverability?"
Krell's resolve remained steadfast. "We'll get it done," he asserted. "You focus on your battle and we'll focus on ours. The base will be in Republic hands before you know it. Commander-" Krell peered down at Frost. "Relay my orders to the rest of your unit. Inform them of the attack and ready the gunships."
While he remained shocked over the proposal, Frost reluctantly nodded. As he set off to notify the 213th, Barriss turned to Luminara. "Master," she began. "Is this frontal assault truly a wise alternative?"
"If executed properly," Luminara considered.
Her Padawan shook her head. "But either way, won't the invading team sustain heavy casualties?" she replied.
"Sometimes such losses are necessary in war, Barriss. There is no victory without sacrifice. This is why we must do our part to ensure that those who perish in the attack do not do so in vain."
Barriss felt conflicted over her master's words as they ventured to their starfighters with Gaston. Like Frost, she observed the uncertain clones as each learned of Krell's ominous plan. It was only a matter of time before one of the gunship pilots stormed up to Frost. "Commander!" he beckoned with a stern, yet worried tone.
Frost turned and instantly recognized the pilot. The dark blue spirals painted across his helmet were a dead giveaway as he inquired, "Midnight? What's wrong?"
"What's wr-" Midnight scoffed. "This plan. We have up-to-date intelligence on Felucia's defenses leading up to that base. Still, the general wants us to somehow bypass all of those defenses and attack the base directly? Come on, commander. Even you know this is suicide." His remark had other clones glancing over and put Frost on edge.
"If you have a concern," the commander said. "Please keep your voice down-"
"Respectfully, sir." Midnight huffed. "No. All of us deserve to feel safe and the men I'm carrying need to hear this too."
"Fine," Frost sighed. "We don't have a choice, brothers. General Krell's given his orders and-"
"And he must at least listen to his commander's advice," Midnight interrupted. His assertive tone dropped to one of desperation. "I'm not the only pilot who feels this way. Please, sir. If not for my sake, do it for the younger boys."
Frost glanced over at the 213th's newer troopers. Their unscathed and shiny armor reminded him of his early days on Hoth. "I...will speak with the general again," he lamented. Midnight thanked him as the commander sought out Krell. The Besalisk was scouring over the holomap once more when Frost stepped in. "General," Frost called only to go unanswered. "General Kr-"
"I heard you the first time," Krell murmured nonchalantly. "What is it?"
Frost tried to continue unfazed. "Some of our gunship pilots are...concerned about the assault." Krell's ensuing scoff was enough to get Frost's blood boiling. Still, the clone kept his composure. "With so many lives on the line, perhaps an alternative-"
General Krell's chuckle was as haughty as it was ominous. "Commander," he mumbled while shaking his head. "I'm starting to wonder if you actually have any authority whatsoever. Seeing as you let others decree what's best for the mission now."
"But these men do have a say," Frost retorted. "They're worried that-"
"The only thing they're worried about is change, 1127." Krell barked. "They fear rising to the challenge because their previous general was too weak to lead by example."
Frost's nostrils flared beneath his helmet as Krell spoke ill of Elsa. "She-" he started until the Besalisk glared at him.
"We stay the course," Krell asserted. "Tell these pilots that my orders stand. And Commander..." Frost clenched his fists as Krell placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You are a soldier, bred to follow orders and destroy the Republic's enemies. This was always your purpose, so don't overthink it. Don't let some 'pretty face' plant false hopes in your mind."
Frost's mental sanctuary was becoming harder to stay safe in. Krell's venomous words picked at his resolve even as he returned to his fellow troopers. Despite his best efforts to keep them strong, he could see the pain in their sunken postures. The troopers of the 213th were barely holding on and they hadn't even attacked yet. Frost glared at the jungle world before them. The Separatists had dug their metal heels into the muck of that alien hellhole and dared the Republic to come after them. So it would.
A trio of Jedi starfighters darted out of the Deliverance's hangar. Barriss, Luminara, and Gaston guided multiple squadrons of clone fighters into combat as they took on the Separatist blockade. The ensuing exchange of laserfire heralded the 213th's perilous descent. Frost, Rip, Doubles, and several other troopers joined General Krell in LAAT-5. As Frost looked over the troops, he noticed a set of feathers painted on one of their turquoise helmets. "You're the shiny from the Battle of Eshan, aren't you?" Frost queried. "Sparrow, right?"
The clone turned with a nod. "Yes sir."
"General Anna Dellian spoke highly of your bravery after she recovered."
Sparrow's head tilted with eager curiosity. "R-...really?"
Frost leaned in and firmly shook the trooper's forearm. "Stay strong, kid," he said. "We're gonna need every bit of that courage, okay?"
The gunship's pilot, Donz, signaled his copilot with a chime. "Ready, Toto?" he asked.
"Copy sir," the youthful clone replied.
Meanwhile, Midnight buckled himself into LAAT-1. Before taking off, he took a solemn look back at the amount of troopers in his hold. With a deep sigh, he hoped that he could land his brothers safely.
Seeking to ease his own nerves, Frost approached Donz's seat. "How are you feeling?" the commander asked.
"I won't lie," the older clone muttered. "The odds aren't looking friendly. But I trust you."
Frost stammered. "These are General Krell's orders though."
"But you stand in approval of them, sir." Donz added. "I've followed you into chaos under the Dellians, so I trust that you know what you're doing under Krell."
That makes one of us, Frost thought to himself while returning to the hold.
"It's now or never!" Krell's voice boomed into his comlink. "All gunships, get to the surface. Attack!"
On the general's command, the gunships lifted off in a massive swarm. Their iconic, cacophonous whir filled the void of space as they descended in formation. With hatches sealed and boosters fired up, they could only hope that the space battle would keep enemy fighters off of them.
One step at a time, Frost told himself while clenching a handhold. Get through space, go from there. Relief took hold as he felt the rumble of Felucia's atmosphere. The gunships pierced the nighttime clouds and glided over a fungal landscape.
"We're through!" Donz called in while keeping a steady hand on the controls. "Pilots, proceed to the marked plateau base!"
"Copy that, LAAT-5," another pilot responded. "Leveling out and-" In that instant, a rocket struck the gunship's underbelly. The resulting explosion compromised the craft's integrity, killing everyone aboard and leaving nothing more than a fireball in its wake.
Donz's eyes widened at the horrific sight in his peripherals. "Karabast," he uttered.
Toto's head snapped towards the monitors as multiple blips closed in. "Incoming!" the co-pilot warned. Every droid defensive position enroute was aiming at the sky and opening fire.
"All pilots," Donz called in. "Take evasive action! Break formation and-"
"Negative!" Krell roared over comms.
"General?" Donz choked while narrowly avoiding missiles.
"Hold formation," Krell decreed. "Evade as needed. Deploy flares where you must. But no one breaks formation!"
The clones beside Krell looked to one another as the pilots followed orders. As a result, many gunships endured heavy laser barrages. Even if they could dodge most projectiles, maintaining formation kept them at risk. Another gunship was blasted into scrap while the rest pushed on. Midnight's heart raced as every warning symbol in existence flashed across his monitor. A vast assortment of scorch marks and blaster holes sizzled against LAAT-1's hull. The engine trailed smoke, yet still Midnight persisted.
Donz peered beyond the laserfire and spotted a prominent plateau. "I see the base!" he declared before heavy artillery fired from it. "We're almost there!" Several rounds punctured LAAT-1's right wing. "Midnight," Donz called, noticing the gunship's condition. "You have to back out."
The pilot sat amidst a symphony of foreboding alarms. "I can't stop now," Midnight panted. "I'm almost there. I've got to get these boys to safe-" Suddenly, a spray of lasers bombarded his cockpit's windscreen. While some shots struck Midnight's chest, others blasted the monitors and sparked an even greater fire. The rest of LAAT-1 went up in flames before spiraling into an explosive crash.
"Midnight!" Donz yelled hopelessly.
"Pilot!" Krell scolded. "Focus on your flying before you get us killed!"
"Sir yes sir," Donz groused and continued his descent. Fiery lasers exploded between the surviving gunships as they finally hovered over the base. "Opening hatches!" Donz declared. "Prepare to engage!"
The gunship's hatches hadn't even opened yet and lasers were already striking them. "Ready weapons!" Frost ordered the troops while steadying himself. He clasped his blaster rifle and looked over at Krell. Despite Frost's relationship with the general, the sight of two collapsible lightsabers on his belt prompted comfort. After all, fighting alongside a Jedi turned the tide for countless clones across various battlefields. This promising principle made it all the more disheartening...when Krell shoved Frost forward.
Instead of igniting his double-bladed lightsabers and leaping into battle, Krell shoved his clone commander. "Attack!" the general demanded. "Move! Move!"
Too distraught to comprehend the bewilderment, Frost led his men into battle. "Charge!" he shouted and sprung from the hovering gunship. Any clone that was able to get their boots on the ground was incredibly fortunate. Some were riddled with lasers as soon as the gunship hatches opened. Their limp bodies plummeted beside their valiant brothers as Frost led the attack. Krell's plan was beyond flawed...it was destructive. The gunships had deployed troops in the heart of the Separatist base. With limited cover and droids spewing from all sides, only Frost's resolve could keep the 213th together.
"Drop!" Frost commanded as the troopers went prone. Some desperate troopers had to use the bodies of their fallen brothers as human shields. Waves of B1 units marched in from all corners and poured on a seemingly endless supply of laserfire.
Doubles screamed at the top of his lungs, firing his Z-6 rotary cannon into the incoming droids. Rip tried to get in range, but his flamethrower was hardly useful without cover on his side. "I can't crisp 'em from here," he groaned. "Cover me! I'm moving-"
"You stay back, soldier!" Frost demanded while shooting. "If you move up, you'll get yourself killed!"
"If we stay here, we'll be killed!" Rip snapped at his commander. "We're kriffed either way."
"Commander!" Sparrow warned and knelt alongside several troopers. "More on our left flank!"
Frost spun to engage incoming droids and shouted, "Hold the line!"
Krell shook his head from LAAT-5's vacant hold. "What are they doing?" he griped. "I said attack!" Fed up with his soldiers, Krell stepped out of the craft. Heads spun as his lightsaber hilts clicked into place. Frost's head turned to the sound of ferocious blades igniting. Vibrant, blue and green pinwheels spun as Krell charged forward. "On me!" his voice thundered and he launched himself at the droids.
The B1s' nasally, panicking wails filled the air as Krell descended upon them. His double-bladed lightsabers cut droids down by the scores. He easily decimated entire waves while simultaneously blocking incoming laserfire. As his threat level increased, the surrounding droids prioritized Krell over the clones. The Besalisk front-flipped into a group droids and extended all four arms. His ensuing Force repulse sent his metallic foes twirling and flailing through the air. Some of them even crashed into nearby cannons and prompted explosive chain reactions.
As Krell advanced on the surviving droids, it reached a point where the clones could lower their weapons. They just stood there, exhausted and frozen in shock as their general obliterated droids with ease. While some of them remained astounded, others wondered why Krell couldn't have just led the charge from the beginning. As he bisected a super battle droid, a pair of B1s dropped their blasters and dashed away. "Run for it!" one of them cried.
Krell roared to scare the rest off and raised his lightsabers proudly. He stood amidst the base's fiery devastation and shouted, "The plateau is ours!" Despite the Republic victory, Krell's declaration wasn't met with cheers. In fact, his clones were still recovering from the landing. Their helmeted heads hung betwixt the crackling flames while they observed their fallen brethren. An eerie stillness filled the air, one of which was only accompanied by the crackling of burning scrap.
Frost knelt to catch his breath while Krell activated his comlink. "Base secured," he told his fellow Jedi. "What's the situation in space?"
"The blockade's dispersing," Gaston's voice responded over comms. "The surviving dreadnoughts are regrouping on the other side of Felucia."
"Excellent," Krell replied. "Rendezvous on the plateau and we can plan our next move."
"I have to admit," Gaston said. "I'm surprised you actually pulled it off."
Krell peered from one of the base's walls and observed the droid forces in full retreat. With their base taken, even those in the jungle were fleeing. "Doubt will only hold us back," he remarked. "All which I decree can and will come to pass."
It wasn't long before a trio of Jedi starfighters descended over the base. The shaken troopers of the 213th watched as the Jedi surveyed their environment. While Luminara and Gaston advanced to speak with Krell, Barriss was taken aback by the scene. The young Mirialan shook her head at the sight of so many dead clones. She bit her lip as wounded troopers were gathered near a makeshift medical tent and injected with bacta. "We took the base," she told Luminara in passing. "But at what cost, master?"
"The cost these men were willing to pay to change the galaxy," Luminara assured her apprentice. "The Force will always be with them."
"Right," Barriss murmured. As she surveyed the carnage, Lyn Ferix's words came back to haunt her.
"What the hell do you people even do? Meditate on good intentions and send positive vibes towards the downtrodden? How's that working out?"
But Master Unduli said they fought for change, Barriss reassured herself.
"Change is a fun little word used to stoke spirits and win votes." Lyn had said.
That can't be true, Barriss thought. Can it?
"Well done, Master Krell." Luminara told the Besalisk as they delved into a conversation. Still entranced by the battle's grim aftermath, Barriss started to wander.
Frost travelled across the wreckage and checked his fallen brothers for vitals. Each grim discovery chipped away at his hopeful spirits and he wished Elsa was there. She always had something wise to say, even in the darkest of times. During his wandering, Frost found Donz resting beside LAAT-5. The pilot was hunched over and helmetless. His bushy, black mustache drooped as he stared into the reflection against his visor.
"Donz," Frost beckoned and stood before him.
The pilot's grip on his helmet tightened. "Midnight didn't make it," he mumbled.
"I know," Frost lamented.
"Neither did Rodsy."
"I-"
"Or Trix," Donz huffed. "Amazing pilots. Men who could outmaneuver any barrage if given the space. But when forced to travel through a narrow, open-" Donz could hardly bring himself to continue. His bold brows furrowed as he brought his voice down to a murmur. "They're all gone. Dead...dead...dead!" He angrily threw his helmet at the floor. The plastoid equipment rolled between Frost's legs and stopped at Barriss' feet. "That never should've happened!" Donz growled. "Yet still we went through with this flawed endeavor. And I was foolish enough to trust you both."
"You both."
Donz's words stung Frost at his core. Even if he was just following Krell's orders, it made no difference to the pilot. Frost felt like an enabler and nothing could stop the guilt from clawing within. "Donz," he uttered. "I-...I'm sorry."
"I know, commander." Donz sighed. "I just wish we had Elsa back. She didn't always get things right, but at least she cared about us."
Barriss frowned at the pilot's words while cautiously approaching him. The Padawan extended his discarded helmet to him and said, "Pardon me...but I believe this is yours."
Donz could hardly look her in the eye as he reclaimed his helmet. "Maybe...we can't trust all the Jedi," he said and Barriss subtly gasped. "It's ignorant to think that they have all the answers when they decide who lives or dies in the blink of an eye." Donz stared out across the plateau and observed the fungal forests. "What are we even doing out here?" he asked her. "Do you see any oppressed people? Any tyrannical systems to fight?"
Barriss swallowed hard when she couldn't quickly form an answer. "Well-" she stammered. Her heart sank as she looked into the clone's broken eyes. "I believe that..." She bit back the rest of her statement, for Donz's despair was reaching her senses.
"What?" the pilot sincerely asked. "Tell me what you believe in, because I don't know what to right now."
Noticing the Padawan's discomfort, Frost put himself between them. "Donz just needs some time," he said. The commander never thought he'd be grateful to hear General Krell's voice.
"Offee! 1127!" he bellowed from the base's primary compound. "Get over here!"
As Frost and Barriss walked together, the Mirialan hung her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can sense the feelings of you and your men. There's so...much...pain."
"We're soldiers," Frost replied more for himself. "We can take it."
"But should you have to?" Barriss asked. "Your pilot was right to be concerned and I should've had a better answer to reassure him."
"Respectfully," Frost sighed. "You're not the first Jedi I've served under and neither is Krell. The best thing that any of us can do right now is work together to see a swift end to this campaign. The sooner we take back Felucia, the sooner we can all move on to better days."
"But what will keeping our heads down fix?" Barriss queried.
"I-...I don't know," Frost grumbled. "But everyone's already on edge and the last thing people need is more uncertainty. So please...can we just-" Frost gestured to the compound and Barriss reluctantly obliged.
The duo entered an abandoned Separatist chamber. A narrow corridor led the way into a combined armory and command post. While a crimson holotable resided in its center, an assortment of untouched blasters lined the walls. The entrance was flanked by a pair of stationary commando droids, still left in standby mode. "Someone power those down," Frost suggested.
"Relax, clone." Krell scoffed. "They have restraining bolts equipped. They could've only been activated by the commanding tactical droid. This one, to be precise." The Besalisk tossed a tactical droid's severed head on the floor and proudly patted his lightsaber.
"So with the plateau secured, what's our next move?" Barriss asked.
"Taking this base has provided us with an array of new intel," Luminara replied. Her master typed away at the holotable until new structures appeared as holograms.
"The retreating droids are pushing further west in this region." Gaston explained. "There's a fuel depot that's been energizing both their troops and fleet. Beyond that resides an outpost situated across a vast marsh."
"This intel is most promising," Krell remarked. "But our actions will determine whether or not we're worthy of it." Luminara raised a brow as he continued. "Tonight we showed the enemy that we were willing to take risks and strike them at the heart. It is imperative that we continue to attack while they are broken and routed."
"What are you saying?" Gaston inquired. "We've just established a base on Felucia after months of defeat. Did you not hear what became of Master Savil's unit?"
"Master Savil and her troops were unprepared to gain any ground. We, on the other hand, possess the power." Krell made both of his left hands into fists and shook them. "We must launch an offensive effective immediately! We can hit both the depot and this outpost, driving Separatist forces completely out of this region."
"While I admire your courage, especially after this base undertaking-" Luminara began. "-we cannot underestimate our adversaries. They have had months to establish footholds in Felucia's terrain. Republic intelligence has reported numerous visits from General Grievous himself."
"And he will keep returning unless our campaign is successful," Krell retorted.
Gaston scoffed as a thought crossed his mind. "With any luck, we'll find Grievous here and end him ourselves."
"A brilliant thought that will remain impossible if we waste time here," Krell said. "We attack and we attack now."
"We should divide our forces," Luminara suggested. "Barriss and I will go to the fuel depot. Utilizing stealth, we'll sabotage it just as we've done on previous missions." She placed a firm hand on her apprentice's shoulder. "Like Geonosis."
Barriss nodded as Krell's voice took over once more. "One of us must stay to secure the base. Master Gaston, this responsibility falls to you."
The master's blue eyes widened. "You can't be serious," he griped. "As the best duelist, I'll be wasted here."
"The 213th is mine to command," Krell defended. "So you should consider yourself fortunate enough to even be here." Krell locked stern gazes with him before jabbing a leathery finger at the table. "I will lead my troops in a full frontal assault on the outpost." Even as Krell continued talking, Frost's breaths had already hastened. Watching the general drag his finger across an expansive, open marsh made him think about the suffering his brothers would endure. Images of those fallen in the base attack flashed through his mind. Donz's broken facade remained imprinted within as he dared to speak up.
"Sir," Frost blurted and all eyes turned to him. He removed his helmet so that he could truly meet the Jedi's gazes.
"Yes, 1127?" Krell asked sternly.
Barriss appeared worried as Frost summoned his courage. "This assault you're planning could have devastating consequences." He gestured to the holomap himself. "You're asking me to march our troops directly through miles of hazardous, open marsh before reaching that outpost."
"I'm not asking, I'm ordering." Krell asserted.
"Sir, these orders will cost us men. Good and loyal men. As General Unduli pointed out, we cannot underestimate our enemy. We have no idea what we're up against beyond this plateau."
The Besalisk took his time to answer. He looked Frost over from top to bottom and sighed. "When the Jedi Council reassigned me to the 213th, I was told I'd be leading competentclones. Competent. You know...knowledgeable. Smart." Frost's heart pounded with each of the general's condescending remarks. "Yet here I stand wondering how you ever reached the rank of commander, 1127. Because leaders are supposed to be perceptive, and it appears to me that you've missed the entirety of our victory at this base. A victory achieved through our valiant offensive. Is your eyesight defective?" Krell thrust a finger at the holotable's projection. "Because that outpost is smaller than the base we just took." While he remained steadfast in his resolve, it hurt Frost to go undefended by the other Jedi. He felt outnumbered in the confined chamber as Krell continued to berate him. While Frost was able to block most of his jeers out, five words dragged him back to reality.
"Can you even be trusted?" Krell snapped.
"Of course I can!" Frost hurriedly answered.
"Then prove it," Krell demanded and loomed over the clone. "This Elsa Dellian was able to count on you. Can I?"
Frost unclenched his fists and hung his head. "Yes general," he sighed.
"Then get out there and ready the troops," Krell barked. His dark eyes slowly swayed and followed Frost until he departed.
Barriss hung her head in response. She wasn't sure what she was more ashamed of: The fact that Krell had spoken to Frost in such a way...or that neither her nor any of the other Jedi had intervened. As a whirlwind of thoughts raced through her mind, Barriss started to wonder, What's happening to us?
Gaston glanced at Krell and muttered, "Even I'll tell you that was harsh."
Krell simply shook his head. "It's like I said," he intoned. "Doubt will only hold us back."
Felucia's humid night came to a close as a sweltering sun rose over the jungle. Bright, scarlet streaks set the planet's expanse of marshes aglow. The murky trails looked like puddles of fiery gunk as plastoid boots trudged through them. The troopers of the 213th lumbered through together, braving scorching heat and irritating bugs. Everything from marsh spiders to millipedes scaled the clones' armored shins and tried to enter their helmets. Sweat soaked their faces as the marshes seemed to stretch on for miles. Every thick and muddy step made them feel as though they barely budged. Their tired grunts filled the musty air as they hauled heavy weaponry over their shoulders.
"Have I mentioned...that I hate this...planet?" Rip huffed and was hardly able to speak between breaths.
"Only about three hundred times," Doubles groaned while lugging his rotary canon. Its tip skimmed the marsh's mossy surface as they pressed on.
Krell led onward, stomping forth like the towering beast he was. Frost trailed behind him, staining the hem of his turquoise kama with a thick layer of moss. He paused as a web of rotten roots floated around his ankles. Acting quickly, Frost unsheathed his Echani dagger. The gifted weapon from Siv Makari was as sharp as it was intricate. With a mighty swipe, Frost sliced through the roots before they could snag his ankles. As the commander raised his head, he observed his weary troops. The lengthy marsh ahead was all the more demoralizing as they pressed on.
"Commander!" a clone scout hollered. His voice brought a subtle grin to Frost's lips.
"What've you got, Sparrow?" he asked.
Sparrow passed a set of macrobinoculars to him and pointed across the marsh. "I have eyes on the outpost, sir," he reported. "We're nearly there and-"
"Give me that," Krell barked and snatched the binoculars away. He peered for himself while toting a perpetual scowl. "Finally," he hissed.
Monitors hummed from within the Separatist outpost's command center. While multiple B1 units manned their assigned stations, a single droid approached its superior. "Scanners show Republic forces across the marsh," the B1 reported.
A dark and metallic hand clenched its armrest. A trio of fiery photoreceptors glowed and scanned countless readouts with ease. "Surprising yet foolish," the superior replied in an imposing tone. Contrary to its predecessor, the ST-series super tactical droid was capable of quickly adapting to new situations. Designated under the codename 'Kalani' this droid remained ever diligent.
"Should we send out a battalion?" the B1 proposed.
"Negative," Kalani replied while computing outcomes in his data-brain. "Reconnaissance from our lost base shows that this clone unit is being led by a Jedi. In the majority of their engagements, the Jedi succeed on a level battleground. This where they would lure our forces into traps, explaining why they've chosen to present themselves on such open terrain." Kalani rose from his seat and raised a metallic fist. "Prepare the heavy artillery. Initiate defense pattern: Epsilon."
"Roger roger," the B1 confirmed and scurried off.
An ominous whirring and grinding echoed from beyond the outpost. Having retrieved his binoculars from Krell, Sparrow examined the outpost once more. "Commander Frost," he grieved. "We've got a situation, sir."
"Talk to me, trooper." Frost muttered.
"The outpost just deployed a line of J-1 proton cannons," Sparrow said.
"Anti-aircraft artillery?"
Sparrow nodded. "Blasts from those would tear right through a frigate's shields and would obliterate a gunship. I'd hate to see what they'd do to infantry."
"The longer we linger-" Krell grumbled. "-the longer we'll give the enemy a chance to find out. Commander, rally the men. Full charge."
"What?" Frost gasped and garnered the attention of his nearby troopers. "General, those cannons will decimate us through the marsh."
"Not if you can get over and under them in time," Krell intoned. "I've had enough of your demoralizing backtalk, clone." He angrily gripped Frost's shoulder. "I was told the 213th consisted of valiant soldiers who fought alongside the Echani. But it's clear that those claims were greatly exaggerated. Otherwise, be a man and lead."
Frost clenched his rifle and observed the distant outpost. With a heavy breath, he declared, "Battalion! On me!"
"He can't be serious," Rip murmured to Doubles. "He's making me look sane."
"We'll be slaughtered," Doubles whispered before hurriedly shaking away any doubt. "No matter what happens, I'll watch your back, brother."
Frost didn't even bother looking at Krell, for he knew the general would be pulling up the rear or worse. Instead, he summoned his courage and raised his weapon. "Charge!" the commander shouted and began a grueling dash through the swampland. His loyal troops followed suit, hauling themselves across uneven and gunky terrain. As the 213th departed, Krell remained stationary with all four arms crossed. His glower deepened as he silently observed his unit's attack.
Back at the outpost, a B1's head swiveled from its monitor. "The clones are attacking," he said.
"A frontal assault without any tactical advantage," Kalani computed. "This is most improbable. Open fire, but remain vigilant for possible diversions."
Frost knew the J-1 proton cannons were bound to fire, it was only a matter of when. Their flares were nearly blinding, even from such a distance. The whistling fury of an incoming projectile with an unknown trajectory was terrifying. Frost's heart sank when he started hearing the screams. Marsh water spewed with each impact and sent troopers flying through the air. Each blast left colossal, swampy craters burnt into the ground. Still the clones pushed on, tripping over roots and each other. They were like trapped womp rats, scurrying across a barren plain as explosive projectiles surged towards them. Desperation sunk in and some clones even dropped their weapons in favor of running faster.
"Forward!" Frost yelled over the explosions. Swamp muck splattered over his helmet and breastplate. "Keep pushing!" One of the proton blasts exploded beside him, obliterating clones on impact and sending others spiraling off. "Come on!" Frost urged as he reached for a trooper's arm. He pulled the clone from the muck, and was horrified to see the arm was all that remained.
The proton cannon barrage was deafening and relentless. Frost had tunnel vision as he exasperatedly raced to reach the outpost. By the time he and the survivors had made it, they had to contend with a steep and muddy slope. They dropped down by the slope's base, finally out of the cannons' sights. Each J-1's colossal barrel stretched over the ledge and cast an eerie shadow over the troops.
Frost glanced over at the clones who'd made it. Their muddy helmets nodded to him as they awaited further orders. "We scale this slope-" Frost panted. "-and turn the cannons on the enemy. On my mark. Let's move!" As soon as Frost began his uphill charge, Kalani initiated the second phase of his defense. Various battle droids appeared from the edge of the slope and took aim. "Contact!" Frost warned and stumbled back down. "Engage! Engage!"
A spray of scarlet lasers rained down, striking any clone who couldn't descend in time. Their sizzling bodies rolled down the slope while Frost and the others returned fire. One of the B1s even set up a rapid fire turret to keep them further pinned. One of the shots skimmed the soil beside Frost and had him peering around. Despite how confident he wished to remain, he knew the truth. There was no way the 213th could take the outpost under such a strategy. Krell hadn't even joined them and was still observing from the marsh's furthest reaches. Any plan would've been better in Frost's eyes and he feared for the lives of those around him.
Rip could hardly get any flames out and Doubles tried to protect him. Clone troopers were dropping at alarming rates beside them. A crunched, Phase II helmet lay sinking in the dirt. The symbol of Republic ingenuity and superiority had become nothing more than a ravaged piece of plastoid. Is this it? Frost thought to himself. Is this what all of those nightmares have been about? Never knowing what I'm doing. Just...having to kill? Following orders until the inevitable? No...If this is the end, let it be one among my brothers. Fighting for them. If no one else remembers who I was and what I did, they will.
"I think I see an opening!" Sparrow yelled while blindly firing his rifle. "I blasted a droid on the right. If we reform, we might be able to climb up and-"
Frost wasn't even listening. He was solely focused on the super battle droid taking aim on Sparrow's left. "Look out!" he warned and lunged out of cover. "Watch that wrist rocket!"
The clone spun just as the droid launched its projectile. Before it could strike Sparrow, Frost leapt and pushed him out of the way. The blast ignited and sent both clones tumbling further back into the marsh. Sparrow's world spun as he looked up at the ashy skies. He checked his body for injuries before rolling over and seeing Frost's limp body. "Commander?" he uttered. "Commander!"
Sparrow crawled over to Frost and observed his charred armor. Even Phase II equipment couldn't handle a wrist rocket's brunt at close range. "Commander!" Sparrow called again, quickly removing his broken helmet. Frost's eyes barely listed amid shortened breaths. Noting the commander's condition and the overall massacre, Sparrow dared to give an order of his own. "Fall back!" he yelled amidst the chaos. "Retreat! Retreat, damn it!"
The battlefield became a deafening and muffled blur to Frost. He could hardly feel anything and was unsure where he even was anymore. It became more of a question of where he wanted to be. The dark clouds above faded to brightened skies. Instead of seeing a panicking Sparrow overhead, he saw another. Her gentle gaze was tranquil enough to bring a single word past his chapped lips. "Elsa?" he whispered before shutting his eyes.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading this week's installment! It's an honor and pleasure to be entertaining you all weekly again. Get ready for epic confrontations in "Brothers' Keepers (Part II)" next Friday!
Long Live Imagination and May the Force be with You,
Michael